by Nancy M Bell
“Where’s Mary?” she whispered.
“I could ask you that self-same question,” he answered her quietly.
“Mary, damn you all to hell. I am going to kill you,” Michelle muttered while dragging her gaze back to the stage.
The Mabels were in the middle of a rollicking song about a hound dog named Mabel. The lyrics made Michelle smile, and she almost forgot about killing Mary. She risked a quick peek at the man beside her. He seemed oblivious to her presence. He watched vivacious Suzy with an interest Michelle found disturbing. She dismissed him from her mind with some difficulty and focused on the music soaring to the rafters. When Lana sang the opening lines of “Alberta Blue”, applause rippled through the audience. The number was one of Michelle’s favourites from the gigs the girls played at the local steakhouse earlier in the year. The song captured perfectly the magic of the prairie and the mountains spread out to the horizon, while the sky burned blue above them. Michelle smiled; it was like touching magic. Unbidden, she turned her head to look at Cale, only to find him looking at her. Suddenly, Michelle was acutely aware of his thigh resting against hers and the heat of his shoulder and arm beside her. The sound of applause broke her trance, and she quickly turned away to hide the blush she could feel rising up her neck.
Damn the man, and damn Mary. She is so going to pay for this.
Michelle took the beer from between her knees and finished the last dregs before she set the bottle on the floor under her chair. The Mabels were swinging through the last song before the intermission, something about a guy in a bar who thought he was Elvis. Michelle was too aware of the man beside her to pay much attention. Relief rushed through her when the house lights came up, and Amy announced a twenty minute intermission.
Cale’s hand on her arm stopped Michelle when she started to get to her feet and bolt for the bathroom. Anywhere away from Cale was a good place to be. She looked down at him and couldn’t help smiling at the expression on his face.
“I didn’t know you’d be here, Michelle. Mary told me she bought the tickets, but at the last minute, she couldn’t go. It didn’t make sense to let the ticket go to waste. Luke was supposed to be here, not you.” His eyes pleaded with her to believe him and make nice.
“Trust Mary to work both ends against the middle.” Michelle dropped back into her chair shaking her head.
“It is Christmas. Can’t we just enjoy the evening and the music? Maybe forget the fact that for some reason you can’t stand the sight of me.” Cale entreated her.
Michelle had the grace to blush, before she offered him a smile.
“It is almost Christmas,” she agreed. “Let’s call a truce for the rest of the night.”
“Why is it you don’t like me, by the way?” Cale asked seriously. “People don’t usually hate me on first sight.”
Michelle was saved from answering by the fact the house lights dimmed, and The Mabels returned to the stage.
She enjoyed the rest of the concert, singing along to the ones she knew. Her voice blended richly with Cale’s as the audience sang along to “Remember”. Cale rested his arm across the back of her chair, and Michelle felt his fingers play with the ends of her hair. The hall seemed suddenly small and intimate, and she forgot why it was she didn’t like the man.
Cale and Michelle filed out of the hall and stopped on the wide porch to admire the big prairie moon illuminating the snow-covered landscape. In the distance, the lights of nearby ranches showed in the darkness, but the moonlight and the prairie dominated the view from the hall. Michelle lingered, unwilling for the night to end. There were night chores to do though and the dog to check on. She stepped away from Cale with brief smile and turned as Cale followed her down the steps.
“Are you parked over here, too?” The moonlight made his face shadowed and mysterious as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
“Mary said you’d need a ride home,” Cale explained. He waved his cell phone at her. “She just left me a message.”
“I don’t know why she’d think that, my truck is right…” Her voice tailed off as she raised her hand to indicate where she parked the Chev not three hours before. The snowy piece of prairie was empty; only tire tracks showed in the moonlight.
“Mary is going to die a slow painful death.” Michelle ground the words out between her teeth.
“You mean she took your truck?” Cale said in disbelief.
“She surely did, but not before making sure you knew I would need a ride home.” Michelle let the laughter bubbling in her chest sound in her voice. Mary knew she kept the spare key under the floor mat. Nobody locked their trucks at East Longview Hall.
“She set us up.” Cale laughed, too. “Her and her cronies have been throwing all the pretty girls in the vicinity at me since I got here. I should have seen this coming.”
“Me, too. Mary’s been matchmaking for me ever since Rob ran off with his dressage queen and left me high and dry.” Michelle mentally kicked herself, even as the words were leaving her lips. What in God’s name made me say that? I don’t ever want to think about Rob and his princess again.
“Rob was the boyfriend who done you wrong?” Cale guessed. “Mary said something about a fiancé and the situation not working out.”
“Mary should mind her own business. It’s ancient history. I need to get home; I think Storm is going to pop her babies tonight.” She changed the subject quickly.
“The Mighty Dodge awaits, seeing as the Chev is AWOL.” Cale swept his hat off his head and offered her a bow.
Michelle couldn’t stop the giggle. “Fine, let’s just get going, Romeo.”
The truck was warm when she stepped up into the cab. Cale had the foresight to use his automatic starter while they were talking outside in the cold. The snow crunched under the tires when they turned out onto the road. The radio was tuned to the local country station, and they sang Christmas songs all the way home. They belted out “Six White Boomers” as they pulled up at Michelle’s back door, and she smiled across the dark cab at Cale. His eyes seemed to darken as he leaned closer to her and raised a hand to her cheek. Michelle jumped back, and she fumbled with the door handle.
“I gotta go check on Storm,” she said to the door, refusing to look at Cale.
“I’ll come in and check on her leg. I told Luke I would to save him the trip out here.” Cale opened his door and stepped out.
Michelle slid out of the truck and pressed her cold hands to her burning cheeks. She wished for the millionth time she didn’t blush so easily. There was nothing for it, but to step away from the truck and lead the way to the door.
Storm thumped her tail on the floor in greeting when Michelle flicked on the light in the kitchen. The black dog nosed a still wet puppy toward her teats and then continued to lick the caul off the second puppy between her front paws. Michelle knelt beside the dog’s head and offered her hand. Storm licked her palm and returned to her ministrations on the black puppy. Cale hunkered down beside her. The black dog spared him a glance before dismissing him as a threat to her and her puppies.
“Looks like she’s taking care of things just fine,” Cale remarked.
“So far; there’s more than two in that belly.” Michelle stroked the dog’s still prominent back bone as she spoke.
Cale picked up the puppy between Storm’s paws before he examined the bandages on her leg. Satisfied, he sat back on his heels and grinned at the two squirming puppies as they slurped up their first meal. He gaze turned serious when the dog’s sides heaved in a contraction. He relaxed as another small creature emerged into the world. Michelle rose to her feet and got the makings for coffee from the shelf over the stove. Soon the invigorating smell of fresh coffee permeated the kitchen. Cale left the momma dog to her puppies and helped himself to a cup before he settled himself at the table across from her. Michelle slid the new Traveling Mabels CD she’d bought into the stereo and hit play. The CD jacket had butterflies all over it. She giggled when Eva’s “Smolder Blues”
poured from the speakers. Now that I’m getting older, I gotta learn to smoulder. If I want some loving, and I might. Cale grinned at her and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“This always makes me think of Mary. Can’t you just see her and Doc smouldering away?” Michelle broke into uncontrollable giggles at the thought.
“That’s not an image that’s conducive to my love life.” Cale joined her laughter.
“I don’t have one for it to ruin.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute, Michelle.” The laughter left his face.
“Believe it, Vet Man. I swore off men after Rob left.”
“What did you call me?”
Startled, Michelle thought for a minute. What did she just say?
“Vet Man, I used to call Doc that when I was a kid. I can’t for the life of me figure out why I said it just now.”
“Does that mean you don’t hate me quite as much?” Cale’s voice softened.
“I guess it must be what it means.” Michelle couldn’t put her finger on exactly how she felt about Cale. Michelle broke the silence that settled between them. “Have you got your tree up yet? It’s only two days ‘til Christmas.”
“I’m not putting one up this year. It’s just me in that big old house, and I’m covering for Doc on Christmas day.”
“Seems kinda sad. Carolyn always decorated the whole house weeks before Christmas…” There were too many memories, some happy, some not so much.
“How long did you know the Chetwynds?”
“All my life…us kids all grew up together. Rob and I were going to combine the two ranches once we got married.”
“Rob was a Chetwynd? I bought his parents’ place?” Cale’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“The only reason it was ever for sale is because his dressage queen wanted to be closer to Calgary. Rob would have been the third generation of Chetwynds to farm that land. His grandpa must be rolling in his grave.”
“I’m sorry, Michelle. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Cale laid his hand cautiously on hers.
“Over and done with. I don’t wanna ride down that trail ever again.” Michelle pushed back from the table and stood up. “Since you’re not having a tree of your own, you can help me drag this sucker in and wrestle it into submission.”
Michelle heard him set his mug on the table and follow her down the hall to the wood room by the front door. The air in the room was frosty and her breath hung in wispy wreaths. She reached between the snowy boughs of the tree and found the trunk with her fingers. Heaving the fir tree upright, she gave it a shake to knock some of the snow out of it. The evergreen towered over her head. Michelle sighed, she always did this, brought home a tree much bigger than what she really needed. It just didn’t seem like Christmas unless the tree filled the big west window of the living room. The darn things always looked smaller outside. The only problem was going to be getting it through the door.
“Did you cut down a redwood, Michelle?” Cale’s voice came from the other side of the bushy behemoth.
“It’s a Douglas fir, smart ass.”
“Will it fit through the door?” Cale didn’t sound convinced.
“It came in, so it’s gotta go out.”
Michelle heard Cale grunt something unintelligible. She was pretty sure she didn’t really want to know what he said.
“You ready? I’m gonna push from this side,” she warned him.
She cocked the tree backward a bit so the stump end would go out first and heaved. The thick body of the fir went through the opening a lot easier than Michelle anticipated. The springy branches fluffed out again as soon as the bulk of the tree cleared the doorway. She heard Cale curse accompanied by a thump before the tree keeled over dragging Michelle with it. She landed on top of the bottom branches. Other than some fir needles in her hair and down her shirt, she was unscathed. Michelle raised her head. There was no sign of Cale.
“Hey, Vet Man, where are you?”
“Under your man-eating tree. Can you get off me?”
Michelle struggled out of the tree’s embrace and stood on the bit of bare floor by the wood room doorway. The Douglas fir rolled and bucked with Cale’s attempts to free himself. The air was practically blue with cuss words. Michelle stuck her knuckles in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He slithered out from under the tree and sat on his knees to catch his breath.
Michelle’s gaze met his over the length of the tree, her face flushed with heat which owed nothing to her fight with the evergreen. Her laughter died, to be replaced with a tension that sent hot tingles of awareness through her body where they gathered in the pit of her belly.
Michelle couldn’t look away from the dark fires burning in his eyes. It was a distinct relief when Cale broke the contact and stood up. He smiled at her before he bent to pick up the top of the tree.
“Do you want to try and stand it up, or just carry it this way?” His voice was muffled by the branches.
“We need to turn it so the butt end goes first, or all the branches will break.” Michelle wasn’t exactly sure how they were going accomplish that feat.
She stood back while Cale stood the tree upright and mentally blessed her grandfather for building the house with ten foot ceilings. Michelle moved toward the towering evergreen, thinking to help tip the top toward her. She jumped back when the fir seemed to shake itself and move down the hall toward the living room. Stifling her laughter, she followed in its aromatic wake. There was a brief pause while the tree and the doorway fought for supremacy. With much rustling and bending of branches, the fir won and slid through the opening.
“Where do you want this thing?” Cale’s voice was strained.
“The stand is by the window. I’ll get it.”
Michelle retrieved the tree stand and looked at the green bulk in front of her. There was no way she could see to manage it, except get down under the tree and secure the stand while Cale lifted it and held the thing steady.
“Lift when I say.” Michelle shimmied under the thick lower branches.
Without too much trouble, the stand was fastened, and Michelle crawled out from under the boughs. Cale offered her his hand, and she allowed him to pull her upright.
“You couldn’t find a bigger tree?” Laughter danced in his dark eyes.
“It didn’t look so big outside,” she said defensively.
“It’s nice though. My mom always gets a big tree. Every year she promises she’ll get a smaller one next year, but she never does.”
“I think it’s beautiful. I love the smell in the house.” Michelle smiled happily.
“Where are your decorations? You’ll never get the topper on this monster without help.” Cale eyed the green mountain blocking the window.
“The boxes are by the fireplace.”
“How many do you have?” Cale looked at the pile of boxes in amazement.
“It’s a big tree.”
Michelle plunked herself down by the hearth where she began sorting and opening the boxes. She carefully unwrapped the crocheted ornaments her grandmother made, placing the starched crochet work nativity scene on the cleared space in the middle of the low pine coffee table. Before long, every surface in the room was draped with glittering garlands. Glass balls, along with a multitude of other decorations sat on every flat surface. With a shout of glee, Michelle emerged from the depths of a box with strings of lights clasped in her fists.
“Lights first, I presume?” Cale teased her.
“Of course, didn’t your mother teach you anything?” Michelle shot him a look of fake annoyance.
“She taught me never to get between a woman with Christmas lights and her naked tree.”
“Your mother is a smart woman.”
The better part of an hour later, the tree glimmered with lights and sparkled with decorations. The only thing left to do was place the angel on top. Michelle stroked the soft folds of the topper’s skirts, before caressing the feathers in her wings with trembling fingertips. T
ears welled up in her eyes, and Michelle blinked rapidly to clear her vision. The angel had been on top of the Christmas tree every year for longer than she could remember. Gramma said Grampa brought the angel home on their very first Christmas Eve as man and wife.
Michelle jumped at the sound of Cale clearing his throat. She shot him a watery smile, crossing the floor to hand him the shimmery ornament. She watched as he carefully held the angel while he climbed the step ladder that stood beside the fragrant evergreen. Michelle tried not to look at the entrancing sight of Cale’s butt as the fabric of his jeans outlined the firm contours of his hind end with each rung he climbed. Michelle sighed in appreciation. The man could certainly fill out a pair of jeans.
She looked upward, past the enticing jean-clad butt, to find Cale grinning down at her. Michelle felt her cheeks burn and knew they were fire engine red.
“I said does the angel look straight.” Laughter danced in Cale’s eyes, and Michelle cursed inwardly. Damn him for catching her looking.
“She looks great.”
Michelle waited until Cale was on the bottom step of the ladder before exiting the room on the pretence of checking on Storm and the puppies. The kitchen seemed unnaturally bright after the intimate firelight of the living room. Storm happily nuzzled her feeding puppies with her nose. Michelle knelt beside her and counted six squirming puppies. She picked up a soft warm puppy and cuddled it to her chest. The little creature was black like its momma. Its tiny pink tongue stuck out of its mouth, and the small lips moved in suckling motions even in its sleep. Storm gave a huge sigh and stretched herself out flat on her side. She raised her head when Michelle returned the sleeping puppy to the bed with the rest of the litter. Michelle ran her hand gently over Storm’s head before moving the two puppies lying on the dog’s wounded leg.