Mom smiled, lifting both her hands as if she didn’t know what to make of all this. “Carrots it is.”
Billy listened as Mom left, and then he took off his gloves and rubbed Snowflake’s snowflake. Her hair was soft but thick. “Promise me you’ll never go away,” he begged. “Even if Santa comes back for you.”
Snowflake touched her nose to his, and he felt the promise all the way to his snow boots.
“You’re my best friend, Snowflake.” He hugged her as tight as he dared. “You’ll always be my best friend.” He kissed her cheek and took in the earthy smell of her fur. “Nothing’s going to tear us apart. We’re going to have a lot of fun together. And I’ll read you all my favorite books while you’re getting better.”
Mom reappeared, and he clammed up.
“You know, I used to talk to Buttercup all the time.” Mom worked without looking at him.
“What would you talk about?”
“Everything.” She laid a wooden ruler over Snowflake’s leg and eyed it for size. “I’d tell her about my day at school, my fight with your aunt Barbara … just about anything. She was a great listener.” She set the ruler in place and began wrapping a bandage around the ruler and the leg. “I’ll bet Snowflake is a good listener too. Her ears are the perfect size for it.”
Snowflake flicked one ear in agreement. Billy met his mom’s astonished gaze, and they laughed together.
Once the wrapping was done, she pulled a long carrot out of her inside coat pocket. “Go ahead, give this to her for being such a good patient.”
Billy held out the carrot. Snowflake sniffed the air around it before using her lips to draw it into her mouth and crunching loudly. Mom chuckled.
“Can we keep her, Mom?” As much as Snowflake’s promise to stay filled him up, Billy understood that there was a more powerful force in the universe—a mother’s decree.
“Let’s take it week by week, okay?”
“Okay.” He hugged her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She ruffled his hair. “Thanks for trusting me with your secret.”
* * *
Mitzi Edge
Mitzi helped Billy get settled in the barn with the reindeer for an afternoon of storytelling and healing. She found herself chuckling as she stood at the kitchen sink to wash dishes and keep an eye on the barn. At first, she hadn’t liked the layout of the house, with the single-lane road winding up at the back door, but right now, she was glad to have a view of the barn while she worked.
The reindeer was something special. Her first thought when she’d seen Snowflake had been of Sleigh Bell County, where she’d spent most of her elementary school years. What had the Nicholas boys called themselves? Reindeer wranglers! That was it. Even when they were no taller than Billy, they’d insisted they were “wranglers.” She grinned. Well, one of them insisted …
Forest Nicholas.
The sandy-brown-haired boy was a tornado in a pair of cowboy boots. She’d spent many hours telling Buttercup about the stupid things Forest did in class. That boy could get under her skin so fast. Looking back, she’d probably had a crush on him, but she’d been too young to understand why she could go from staring at him with her brain full of fog to madder than a wet hen in two seconds flat. Of course, it didn’t help that Forest liked to push her buttons.
He was all grown up now.
So was she. Grown up and wiser to the ways of charming men and their wandering hearts.
Turning her thoughts back to her own barn, she contemplated where the reindeer had come from. They were too far from Reindeer Wrangler Ranch for it to be theirs—especially if she’d been harnessed to a sleigh. Mitzi would need to walk out with Billy and look it over. Maybe there was contact information or a license plate or something. She scoffed at her thoughts. They may be in farm country, but if it didn’t have a motor, then it didn’t need a plate. And even that rule was pushed aside if the tractor was old enough.
Billy thought Snowflake was one of Santa’s reindeer.
Mitzi’s heart ached for all that her son had lost over the last year, so much so that saying no to helping the wounded animal wasn’t an option. If Mitzi could, she would have given Billy everything on his Christmas list and more. Between the sporadic child-support checks and her minimum-wage job, she was lucky to make ends meet, let alone spoil her son.
She reflected on their time in the barn and the sound of laughter that filled the air. Billy seemed like his old self this afternoon. And she remembered what it felt like to let go of the clouds and let the sunshine through. Her sunshine.
Maybe this was a good thing. Dad always said animals had a way of healing the soul—bless him for being a man she could count on. If only he were still around.
She turned on an Elvis Presley Christmas playlist and swung her hips to the up-tempo beat. She wanted laughter back in her life and her home. She wanted to be the kind of woman who took care of others, who opened her home and let Jesus shine through the windows of her soul.
When the song ended, she blew a kiss towards the barn. “Thanks, Snowflake. You reminded me of what Christmas is all about.”
