TWELVE
ROSCOE
The week after Christmas, Reed exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath for months. Not only had he had a successful season, selling more trees than in the past, our lease payment had settled his debt.
The farm was closed and snow blanketed the landscape in white. For the first time since I'd arrived at Right as Rain(deer), there was nowhere urgent to be. The pack was living in their cabins and preparing to build additional buildings in the spring, while Reed and I were together under his roof. The ducks and chickens were in the barn and all work on Herbal Harmony had stopped.
Erik had returned from his Christmas Eve duties exhausted and we were all so proud of him. He regaled everyone about soaring over cities and the excitement if people glimpsed Santa’s sleigh.
“Are you sure you're up for this?” I asked as I loaded our suitcases into my car. Reed was bundled up in his favorite winter coat and his cheeks had a healthy pink glow. And as had become his habit, he rested one hand on his belly, even though he wasn’t showing yet.
“Roscoe, it's a cabin in the mountains, not a trek to the summit.” My mate laughed. “Besides, the doctor said travel is fine in the first trimester as long as I'm feeling well.”
The morning sickness had eased on Christmas Day, and we believed that was Santa’s present to him.
“I know.” I kissed his lips and then his belly, always in that order. “I’m just making sure.”
The cabin I'd rented was tucked away in the mountains about two hours from the farm. It was far enough that we wouldn’t have visitors knocking on the door at all hours of the day. That had happened in the week leading up to Christmas and my mate was exhausted and ready for down time. The Christmas tree season was done for another year and we were on vacation.
The cabin was close enough to a small town if Reed needed a doctor but we were looking forward to not having the outside world intruding.
When I turned off the main road and pulled into the winding driveway, Reed wound down the window. A blast of frigid air filled the car but Reedyelled, “We’re here,” at the trees weighed down with snow. “This is incredible. It reminds me of a Christmas card.”
The cabin was nestled among the pines, with smoke curling from the chimney thanks to the caretaker who'd prepared the place for our arrival.
“I love this.” My mate peered at the roaring fire and stone fireplace. “If we’d been here Christmas Eve, Santa would have come down the chimney when we were asleep.”
I nodded, not pointing out he would have missed Santa’s sleigh as it flew through the night sky.
I inspected the kitchen, making sure it had been stocked as we asked, while my mate was drawn to the window that overlooked a valley, covered in snow and without human footprints.
“No cell service.” I turned off my phone. “And no internet. There’s no one on earth who needs anything from us.”
Reed spoke over his shoulder as he tossed his coat on an armchair and headed to the bedroom. “I can't remember the last time I had nowhere to be.”
He squealed and I ran in, my heart thumping hard and my reindeer complaining about the loud noise.
“Look at this bed.” He fell backward and bounced. “Let’s stay tucked under the covers the entire trip.”
“Are you sure about that?” I pointed to the magnificentview.
“The first day anyway.”
We did stay in bed the first twenty-four hours. The rest of the time we cooked and ate and even though my mate’s coffee-making ability had improved, I brewed the coffee.
This was my first opportunity to see my mate doing nothing. He wasn’t checking the trees’ irrigation or tapping at the computer. There were no customers to schmooze. Instead, he napped while I read but whenever he woke, he’d glance at me, making sure I was still here.
“I’m not going anywhere, my darling.”
“Just checking.” He closed his eyes and snuggled under a quilt.
In the evening, I made dinner while my mate sat at the table and chatted. He didn’t much like cooking and with the amount of stress he’d been under, my aim was to make his life as worry-free as possible.
“Do you ever wake up and think you’re living a dream?” We were on the sofa tucking into a venison curry I’d made.
“Since I met you? All the time.”
He told me he wished his aunt was here to see her land being lovingly tended by the pack and to meet me. “But I have to believe she’s beside the goddess, smiling down at me.”
