High Plains Hearts (22 page)

Jake faced her, tilted her chin upward, and said softly, “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

With lips as gentle as a prayer he kissed her.

The world exploded into a stunning display of golden and purple glitter, streams of brilliant orange and yellow, a spray of red and silver.

And the earth moved to make room for heaven.

At last his lips left hers, and she opened her eyes. Behind his head a fountain of blue stars shot into the sky far above the horizon, and she laughed shakily.

“Fireworks,” she explained. “The city display is on. I thought we were—I mean, when you kissed me, I saw—oh Jake …” Her words trailed off, and she was grateful the dark hid her heated cheeks from his scrutiny.

In the splashes of light that cut through the darkness, she saw him smiling. “I saw them, too—the fireworks. Both sets.”

For not speaking much they were saying volumes, and the image of Reverend Barnes and his wife flashed into her mind. She remembered looking at them on Thanksgiving and wanting the same closeness of silent language they had. And now, apparently, she had it.

Her heart was full.

“Happy New Year,” she said to him, reaching up to touch his cheek with her mittened hand. “It’s going to be a great year!”

Especially for someone who had just committed his life to Jesus Christ, she added silently. Jake knew who walked with him every step of his life’s way, who had been with him all along, and now was revealed.

The church doors were still open, and the voices of Reverend Barnes, his wife, and some of the First Night team from Nativity floated up from downstairs.

“I’m falling in love with you, Tess. I’m declaring it in front of God Himself because, if you feel the same way, I want His blessing and His guidance on us as we go forward.”

Feel the same way? She could only nod, mute with the happiness that flooded her entire being.

It was a wonderful way to end the year and to start a new one.

Jake swung his head back and forth in amazement. “I can’t get over that. You don’t strike me as the kind of person to watch a football game at all, especially on New Year’s Day.”

He was pouring pretzels and chips into a bowl.

“Word of warning,” she said, laughing at his expression. “I don’t know a thing about football except that if the guy runs the ball to the end of the court—”

“Field,” he corrected.

“Field, that it’s worth more than if he kicks it down there. If there’s logic in that, well, I’ll eat a Giblet Niblet.”

He grinned. “A Giblet Niblet, huh? That alone would make it worth my time to find out.”

“If you want to see me be sick and die, yes, it’d be very entertaining. But to get back to football, the only reason I watch it is so I can sit on the couch and not think except to wonder where the pretzels are.”

“Here they are,” he said, carrying the bowl to the living room. “I’ve never been a pretzel fan, so you can have the whole bowl to yourself.”

“Nothing like a pretzel when the ball hits the twenty-foot line.”

“Yard line. Twenty-yard line. And you probably don’t want to hit it, you want to—hey, you really don’t know anything about football, do you?”

“Nope,” she answered cheerfully. “And I like it that way, so don’t even bother trying to explain it to me. My eyes and my ears both will glaze over, and I’ll be as catatonic as, well, my cat.”

He shook his head. “You are an amazing woman. Truly amazing. So when does the game start?”

“Two.”

“When’s that?”

“After one and before three.”

“Funny woman. Which team are you rooting for?” he asked. Then, noticing her face, he winced. “You’re not rooting for a team, are you?”

“No. I have no idea about either one of them. I just shout and yell and hoot and holler and have a ripsnorting good time.”

He leaned back and looked at her. “I’m still finding this a total contradiction in you. How can you be so wild about a game you know nothing about?”

“My grandparents had a tradition like the one we’re following. I asked Grandma one time why she let Grandpa watch the game and why she sat in with him the entire time, usually doing some sort of needlework. She said her mind wandered all over the place during the game. Even back to when she met Grandpa, after a football game when he was in his uniform and she was selling apples.” She smiled at the memory.

“She was a romantic, was she?” Jake edged down the couch, past a sleepily objecting Cora, to put his arm around Tess. “I like that.”

“She loved Grandpa, that’s for sure,” Tess said. “And that, my dear man, is the story of how Tess Mahoney came to her New Year’s Day tradition.”

The football game took all afternoon. Jake claimed he still couldn’t see how Tess could possibly enjoy the game without knowing the rules of play. She knew all she needed to know, she told him.

“There’s a football,” she said, pointing at the screen. “That guy with the amazing shoulders has it, and everybody else who’s wearing different colors wants it.”

“They’re on the other team,” Jake offered helpfully, but he received a withering glance in return.

“I know that. And I also know those aren’t the guy’s real shoulders, that they’re pads and not really paddy pads but big plastic jobbers that’d probably jar your teeth out if you ran into him face-on, which is why the other guy’s wearing a cage on his head.”

“Helmet,” Jake said helplessly.

“And that one end of the, um, the big football place—”

“Field.”

“Belongs to one side, and the other belongs to the other side, and the players want to kick the ball and make a goal.”

“Touchdown.” His voice was weak.

She shrugged. “So what’s the big deal with rules? What I don’t understand is why they run right into each other and pile on top of one guy. I mean, it’s clear he’s not going to slither out from under this heap of, what, nearly a ton of sweaty men, right?”

“A ton?” Jake looked confused.

“Well, there are ten of them, right?”

“Um, no, well, yeah, sure. There are ten. Close enough.”

“And each one weighs what, two hundred pounds?”

He tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.

She glared at him, and he controlled himself. “You bet. Two hundred pounds.”

“So ten of them would weigh two thousand pounds, which is pretty close to a ton in my book,” she ended triumphantly.

He stopped and stared at her. “Through all that convoluted logic you’ve come to what has to be an absolutely correct answer. Amazing.”

She smiled happily. “And that, Jake Cameron, is why I love football.”

Later, when the team with the green and white uniforms beat the team with the gold and blue ones, as Tess explained it, they sat with the living room illuminated with only the lights from the Christmas tree.

“We need to take that thing down,” he said. “It’s flinging its needles off with abandon.”

“But it’s so pretty,” she objected. “I like to keep it up until Epiphany.”

He stared at her. “Isn’t that January 6?”

“Sure is. What’s wrong with that?”

“That tree will be nothing but a stem and some twigs by then. You’ll have to take it down sometime this week, sorry to say.”

“Um-hum,” she responded lazily, leaning against him. “Cora’s finally used to having her very own tree in the house. You expect me to justify taking it down with the thin excuse that it’s dropping needles and it’s so dry it’s a fire hazard?”

“Take it down while she’s sleeping and put a bag of Giblet Niblets in its place. She’ll think the Tree Fairy came.”

Tess snorted. “Giblet Niblets indeed. I’ll send her over to breathe in your face—thank you very much.”

Their conversation turned to the events of the night before.

“How many people do you suppose turned out for First Night?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but we have a commission meeting next week; so if the paper doesn’t have the count, I’ll probably find out then.” She stretched languidly. “The committee’s been on hiatus during the holidays, and I still don’t expect there to be much business to report on. So we’ll undoubtedly hear every detail about how the New Year’s celebration went.”

“Next year maybe Panda’s will participate in First Night,” he said, absently tracing one of her auburn curls with his fingertip.

“Sure! You could have a stand somewhere and probably bring in a ton of money.”

A yawn overtook her, and she nearly missed his next words.

“Setting the halo straight.”

At least that’s what she thought he said. It didn’t make any sense, and she was too sleepy to figure out what he meant.

“You’re tired, and I need to get home. Happy New Year, dear Tess,” he whispered. “I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

She pulled Cora’s warm body up and nestled her cheek against the soft fur and let the Christmas lights blur into dreams.

C
ora was not impressed with the swirl of red taffeta Tess proudly displayed.

“You don’t like it, Cora?”

Tess held it up against herself and swished the dress around her legs. That caught Cora’s immediate attention, and a gray ball of fur shot off the bed and attacked the hem of the dress.

“No, no, Cora! You’ll rip it!” Tess gently disengaged Cora’s extended claws from the fabric and grinned at the expression on her cat’s face. “I suppose I shouldn’t have teased you with it like that. Sorry, Sweetie-Cat.” She rubbed Cora’s nose, but the cat glared at her and stalked out of the room.

Tess didn’t know for sure where she and Jake were going this Valentine’s night. From his hints she assumed it was Whispering Winds. Her mouth watered at the memory of the elegant chocolate dessert she’d tasted there.

As she dressed, she thought about how she and Jake had both changed during the time they’d been together. In such a short period they’d come to know and understand each other.

Since making the step from belief to faith, Jake had grown both spiritually and personally. He attended Nativity regularly and had even joined the choir, much to Mrs. Smalley’s delight.

Tess had seen the way his face had relaxed, the way the lines around his eyes and mouth had softened, the easy way he moved, since he’d let Jesus fully into his life. Now that he knew he no longer walked alone, that his burden was shared, he could allow the harmony of being in spiritual balance back into his life.

A glance at the clock told her she had better hurry. He was due to arrive soon.

“Wow!” Jake added a low whistle as she showed off her new red dress. “You look like a Valentine yourself in that!”

He knelt down to greet Cora, who had padded out to the kitchen to see if by any chance Jake had remembered to bring her some treats.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cora,” he said to the cat, who was already sniffing around the coat pocket he had reached into.

“Those had better not be Giblet Niblets,” Tess threatened.

He laughed and took the bag out to prove they weren’t. “No, these are plain old Tuna Buddies. See? They’re shaped like little fishies, and they even smell like them.”

Tess nodded. “So I notice—from way over here. But at least they’re not as awful as the dreaded Giblet Niblets. Go ahead. She can have them.”

The last words were unnecessary as Cora snatched the bag away from Jake. With one powerful swipe of her claws she had torn it open and was eating the treats before Tess could finish her sentence.

“Now’s the time to make our getaway,” he whispered to Tess, “while she’s still wrapped up in the Tuna Buddies.”

She had been right about their destination. They were headed toward Whispering Winds.

The night was cloudless, and the moon was bright. It was a perfect evening, even if it was seven below.

He pulled the car over to the side of the road at a familiar spot. “Do you remember when we first came out here?”

She nodded. How could she forget? The kiss had changed her life.

“And we looked at the stars?”

They had! He had shown her the patterns in the sky, but no shine was as great as the one in her heart that night.

“Well,” he continued, “there’s a nova I want you to see.”

He unfastened his seat belt. “Come on. Let me show it to you.”

They stood at the edge of the road. She shivered against him, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Do you know what a nova is?” he asked.

“Sort of. Fill me in.”

“It’s a new star being born. I suppose it happens all the time—for angels, it’s probably an everyday occurrence,” he said, grinning at her. “But for us mortals, seeing a nova is rare.”

The sky, away from the glare of the town’s lights, glittered with thousands and thousands of stars.

“Each one of those was once a nova,” he said. “Even the old stars.”

“What does the nova look like? Where is it?” she asked, her eyes scanning the sky. “I can’t see it.”

“It’s here.”

“Where?”

“In my hand.”

She looked down, startled.

Open in his hand was a jeweler’s box with a ring nestled inside it. The diamond caught the reflected light of the stars and glittered wildly.

“Tess Mahoney, I love you. I love you completely, totally, and madly. I think I fell in love with you the minute I walked into Angel’s Roost that first day and saw you standing there, looking as if you’d just alighted from heaven yourself.”