Homespun Christmas (2 page)

“It was Dad’s house. If he comes back and thinks I’m an intruder...”

“He won’t bite,” she said quickly. Then she added, “He might sit on you, though. He did that to Daniel Medeiros once. Just knocked him to the ground and kept him there until Adam came home. He’s not dangerous, but I should warn you, he does drool a lot.”

Joshua stared at her.

She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. A dog his size doesn’t sneak up on anyone. When he’s running, he sounds more like a pony than a dog, and you can hear him breathing ten feet away. If you see him, just call me—your dad kept my number beside the phone in the living room. Oh, and Bear can be bribed. Carry some dog treats with you. Your dad has a jar of them in the kitchen.”

“So now I’m a dog trainer?”

“Guess so,” she said. “Welcome home, Joshua.”

He laughed.

“If you need any help sorting, carrying or moving stuff, let me know,” she said, pointing to the van. “I figure you’ll want to haul a lot of your father’s things away.”

“The van’s full of stuff from my apartment in San Francisco. As far as Dad’s things, Dan’s coming over later and we’ll handle it.”

They walked back to the van together, and after he got inside and started the engine, he glanced at her through the open window. “Remember that blue sweater you made for me right before I left for college?”

She smiled. “Yeah. It was my first attempt at making something wearable.”

“I’ve still got it, and it’s as warm as ever.” Without waiting for her to answer, he drove forward, then backed into the next driveway down.

She watched him as he propped open the front door of the house, then began to carry in boxes from the van. Although she could tell by the way he lifted them they were heavy, he walked with unwavering purpose.

Life might have knocked Joshua down, but something told her he’d soon be on his feet, stronger than ever.

* * *

A
N
HOUR
LATER
, Myka walked to the three-sided loafing shed in the backyard where she kept the grain. All ten sheep came to the fence, used to the routine.

After scooping grain into the feeders, she noticed a white butterfly perched on the edge of the welded pipe fence. It adapted to the breeze and, against all odds, remained where it was.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d stood there, watching, when a woman’s voice called her name. Myka turned her head and saw Liza Jenner standing at the corral gate. She waved and walked over to greet her friend.

In her early fifties, Liza was one of the town’s most experienced weavers. “Do you have any more of that spice-colored yarn left, Myka? The Spinning Wheels are meeting at my place tonight and we’re out of it for our Blankets for Warriors service project.”

“Come on. I’ve got some skeins in a box inside,” Myka said, unlocking the gate and letting Liza into the yard. “Has your daughter heard anything yet from that company in Las Cruces?”

“Yeah... She didn’t get the job. Unofficially, she was told they don’t like to hire anyone who’s been out of work that long. Have you ever heard of anything so crazy?”

Myka shook her head. “When Robyn worked in IVA’s public relations department, everyone loved her. That’s why she got such glowing recommendations. I can’t believe the trouble she’s having landing a job.”

“She took this last rejection really hard, but our get-together tonight will cheer her up,” Liza said. “You coming?”

“I’ll be there.” She looked back at the butterfly. If such a fragile creature could adapt to summer heat and strong winds, why couldn’t they be just as adaptable? “You know what this town’s problem is? We’re stuck in a holding pattern, clinging to our memories of what used to be—but that’s not good enough anymore.”

“You have something in mind?” Liza said as they walked toward the house.

“Yes. Tonight, instead of just talking about the projects we’re working on, let’s do something different. Ask everyone to bring a friend or their spouse and we’ll brainstorm on how to breathe life back into Independence. We dream up new colors, patterns and designs all the time. Why don’t we put some of that creativity to work and see what we can come up with for our town?”

“I’ll get busy making calls.”

She’d ask Joshua to come, too. It would be good for him to get away from all the memories the house still held.

Liza left five minutes later, and Myka finished taking care of the sheep.

Her mind was racing. Spur-of-the-moment ideas didn’t always pan out, but they had to try
something.
Endless waiting for the economy to turn around just wasn’t working. For the town’s sake, they had to find a new direction, and more important, a reason to hope.

CHAPTER TWO

J
OSHUA
STOOD
ON
his back porch, ignoring the dust that was blowing in the afternoon breeze and watching Myka, her hair swirling and falling in soft waves around her shoulders, tend her sheep. The girl he’d known since third grade had grown up and was more beautiful than ever.

He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t been drawn to Myka, the good girl who always had something nice to say, and who’d stuck up for him when others tried to put him down. She was a natural leader, never quite falling in step with the rest of the girls, yet seemingly unaware of her own influence.

The fact that she’d eventually married Tanner was no surprise—they’d been a couple most of the way through high school. What
did
surprise him was Myka’s loyalty to this dying town. Why was she still here? What was she waiting for?

He wasn’t a betting man, but from the looks of it, he’d say that the odds were definitely against the place.

“You gonna stand out here all day?” Daniel asked, coming out of the house.

“Nah. Just needed some air.”

“And clouds of blowing dust from this unswept porch? City boy, all that carbon monoxide must have jellied your brains.”

He laughed, and they went back inside together. Daniel Medeiros, his best friend from high school and the town’s remaining grocer, had volunteered to help him clear out his father’s house. It was a good thing, too. The task was harder than he’d thought. Everything here was a memory wrapped in wishes, most of them never fulfilled.

His father had always dreamed of better things, making detailed sketches of the barn they’d someday build, and the workshop inside, with the benches and storeroom. Yet the money and time for his dad’s projects had never materialized as he spent his life laboring at his backbreaking job as IVA’s head custodian.

Joshua hadn’t made it any easier on the man. He’d constantly gotten into fights after school and around town. A group of guys, knowing his dad was a janitor—and a Navajo to boot—had hounded him since elementary school.

Knowing which buttons to push, they’d counted on getting a reaction from Joshua and had rarely been disappointed. Eventually, he won enough fights to earn respect, and that had somewhat toned down his defensiveness.

After high school he’d left to pursue his own goals, and somewhere along the way his dad’s time on earth had run out. Adam Nez’s dreams were just another footnote in the history of a man who’d done his best with what he had.

“We should donate most of your dad’s clothing and furnishings to Reverend Anders,” Daniel said, jarring him back to reality. “These days, he’s got a long list of people who need a hand.”

“Sure. That’s fine.”

“Help me load the boxes into my truck and I’ll take the stuff over there now.”

“After that, let me buy you dinner,” Joshua suggested.

Daniel laughed. “Hey, if you don’t mind, I’d rather buy the groceries at my store, then cook something on your dad’s old grill after the wind dies down—like the good ole days.”

“No problem,” Josh said, then thought about it a moment. “Business is okay for you, right? I mean, everyone needs to eat, and you’re the only full service grocer left.”

His friend shrugged. “I’m selling a lot more chicken and hamburger than steaks these days, and too many people are asking for credit. I’d give it to them if I could, but I’ve got to pay my suppliers, too.”

“You thinking of leaving?”

“I’d need to sell the business first, and that’s not going to happen. Not only are there no buyers, but the place has been in my family for generations.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker.

“It’s hard to walk away from things that matter,” Joshua said quietly. “When I look around here...” He shook his head.

“What might have been, huh?” Daniel asked, following Joshua’s line of sight as he gazed through the window at Myka’s place. “You always had a thing for her, didn’t you? But she was Tanner’s girl.”

“She and I have both gone through some tough times these past few years.”

“Which is why maybe you should back off. She’s a widow just trying to survive. Don’t complicate her life.”

“I don’t have any designs on Myka, Dan. I’m here to wrap up this part of my life then go on to whatever’s next.”

“So how long, exactly, are you planning to stick around?”

“No idea.” His pride wouldn’t let him admit it, but until he found a job, he couldn’t even afford cheap rent. He’d sunk every dime he’d had into trying to save the firm. When that had run out, he’d used his personal credit, just as his partners had, trying to stem the tide.

“So, dinner?” Daniel repeated. “After I drop this off at the church, I’ll stop at the store and pick up the food. You can grill us a couple of steaks and microwave some potatoes.”

Joshua pulled out his credit card and handed it to Daniel. “Just put whatever you bring on this.”

“There was a time when I would have argued with you....”

“No, this is on my tab. It’s a thank-you Wish I could do more.”

“No need, buddy.” Daniel headed out to his truck. “Give me about an hour.”

Joshua watched him leave. That card was his only credit these days. It had to last until he was back on his feet again, and he had no idea how long that would take.

He’d sent out a lot of résumés and his application for a license in New Mexico, but he’d yet to get an interview in or out of state. He guessed that some employers didn’t want to hire a guy who’d failed to hang on to his own company. No matter, he’d figure something out. Joshua knew he was a good architect. All he needed was the chance to prove himself.

He walked around the house for a while, remembering old times, like reading on the sofa while his father snoozed in his recliner, supposedly watching the baseball game. But memories belonged in the past.

This place had been fine for his dad, but it would never be enough for him. He still wanted it all—success, and more importantly, the kind of respect it commanded. For him, it wasn’t about money, it was about recognition for his work and achieving the American Dream.

No one in his family had even come close to that elusive brass ring, but someday he’d claim it. As far as he was concerned, it was meant to be.

* * *

J
OSHUA
EASED
HIMSELF
onto the back porch bench beside Daniel and took a long pull of a cold one.

“I know you’re planning to fix up the house, but be careful not to waste your money,” Daniel said, chewing on his after-dinner toothpick, staring at the grazing sheep across the way. “Houses are on sale around here for practically nothing and still no one’s buying. We may go down the same road as Soledad.”

“The base shut down there, right?” Joshua asked, wondering what he’d do if he couldn’t sell the house. This was going to be seed money to start up a new business. Finances could get tough in a hurry and he was living on a shoestring as it was. A businessman with lousy credit didn’t have much of a future. Even potential employers might shy away.

“Yeah. It’s all gone. Used to be a nice little town, too. Now, without the Air Force test facilities, it’s nothing more than empty homes, a natural gas field and a pumping station. Not more than fifty people left. That could happen here, too.”

“Well, I need to keep busy,” Joshua said, knowing that he couldn’t afford to sit around and wait for things to happen. “I figure I’ll start by cleaning the place from the ground up and giving it a fresh coat of paint. Like you suggested—sweat equity.”

“Is it tough for you? I mean, being here at the house without your dad around?”

Joshua shrugged. “It’s not the memories that bother me most. It’s the feeling that I’m back to square one. I never thought I’d return empty-handed.”

“Maybe you took a wrong turn somewhere and destiny wants you to start over—here. Ever consider that?”

“You sound like Grandma Medeiros,” Joshua said. Daniel’s grandmother.

“Her words exactly.” He reached for his jacket and fished out the keys to his truck. “I’d better get going. I’ve got to help her close up the store.”

Joshua set his beer on the side table. “Your grandma’s still working? She’s got to be...what? Close to eighty, if I figure it right.”

“Seventy-seven, and she still works a forty-hour week to supplement her social security. I can’t get her to slow down. I swear she’s got more energy than I do.”

Joshua walked Daniel to his truck, which was parked behind the rental in the driveway. “Feel free to come by anytime, Dan. It was good to shoot the bull with you again.”

After his old friend drove off, Joshua wandered to the woodworking shed he and his dad had built—a concession to the workshop/garage that remained a faded drawing in his dad’s file cabinet.

Memories crowded in around him as he looked up at his own first project, a small sign that hung over the doorway. He’d used a woodburning set to carve out the words Adam and Joshua Nez in a piece of scrap pine.

He stepped inside and turned on the shop light. As a cloud of dust settled, his gaze fell on the yellowed designs tacked to the wall. The one in the corner was his own scale drawing for a treadle spinning wheel he’d worked at in secret for nearly six months. He’d wanted to give it to Myka for graduation, but he’d run out of materials and it had remained unfinished by the time he’d left for college.

He glanced around for the wheel, wondering if his dad had kept it. Adam almost never threw things like that out, so chances were it was still here someplace, maybe taken apart and stored in a box. Perhaps now, with everything in the world just a mouse click away, he could get the flyer assembly and bearings he needed on the internet.

Out of curiosity, he decided to look inside the big storage cabinets first, but to open them, he’d need to find the keys to the padlocks. All he’d found so far was the key to the shed itself.

He was rummaging through the workbench drawers when he heard a soft knock behind him.

Myka stood there, holding something. “I don’t mean to intrude, Josh. I know you’re busy.”

“Come in. It’s been a long time since I’ve set foot inside this workshop, and I’m trying to remember where everything is.”

“Your dad said you spent the night here once.”

“Yeah, I fell asleep waiting for some varnish to dry,” he said, chuckling. He’d been working on her spinning wheel.

She looked up at the spinning wheel design tacked to the wall. “Cool. Was that one of your dad’s projects?”

“Something like that,” he said but didn’t elaborate. She was standing in the place where he’d first fantasized about kissing her.

“Life was so much simpler when we were kids, wasn’t it?” she mused. “I sometimes wish we could turn back time.”

“I can’t say I do. I don’t care much for the kid I used to be,” he said, admiring the way she looked in the glow of the overhead light.

“Any sign of Bear yet?” she asked.

“The only animals I’ve spotted are lizards and a bunch of daddy longlegs spiders on Dad’s shelves,” he said. “I kept Bear’s dog bed and dishes, though. You’ll need those if he shows up again.”

“Thanks. I just wish he’d come back.”

“He found his way here once before,” he said.

“That sounds like something your dad would say.”

He nodded. “Navajo teach that everything is connected and forms a pattern. We all have a place within that, the dog included.”

She avoided his gaze, stepping outside. “He can jump the fence or dig under, so if it’s okay, I’ll be walking around the back of your property from time to time looking for Bear.”

“You don’t need permission, Myka. You’re always welcome.”

“Thanks.” She reached into her pocket. “There’s something I should return to you. Your dad gave me his extra set of house and truck keys when you went off to college.” She tossed them to him through the open door.

He caught them with one hand. As he did, he saw the inscribed cedar stick attached to the key ring. “I made this for Dad in eighth grade shop. I didn’t realize he still had it.”

“You were his son. He was proud of you. You could have chosen a career as a sheepherder and he would have bragged about you to his friends.”

“I just wish—” He stopped and turned away, staring at the drawings on the wall. She was too easy to talk to.

“I know it’s hard for you to be here, Joshua. I think what you really need is a distraction. I’ve got the perfect idea.”