Silent Night, Star-Lit Night

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Silent Night, Star-Lit Night Page 8

by Ruth Logan Herne


  He didn’t stick around the office area to gauge Pete’s reaction.

  He’d spoken his piece and stood his ground and probably should have done it two years before. He went through the remainder of the day helping customers. He filled cars with wreaths, packages, dog gifts. and more Carhartt products and farm-friendly toys than he could count, all the while wondering how Mia was doing.

  He didn’t text her. He didn’t feel right intruding on this time with old Joe. And whatever her grandpa had put in his will, Jed hoped Mia stood to gain some leverage after Daniel’s dirty deal.

  “Jed, have you seen Uncle Pete?” asked Cara, one of their unappreciated full-time employees. Pete wasn’t Cara’s uncle, but most of the staff referred to him that way.

  “His van’s gone. Must have ducked out.”

  “Do you think he’ll be back?”

  Cara must have overheard their earlier exchange. Jed met her gaze and shrugged. “I’m not sure, but there’s a big difference between being a strong manager and being a jerk. I’m going for a middle ground.”

  “Not for nothing, and not to get into the middle of family stuff, but you had two employees ready to turn in their notice on Christmas Eve. This might have tipped the scales your way. Nobody like to be berated.”

  “I hope they stay,” he told her, but didn’t ask for details. “Whatever happens, I’d like my experienced staff to be on board, one hundred percent. I’ll text everyone that we’ll do a post-Christmas meeting when we re-open on the twenty-seventh.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  He called their payroll company and asked them to issue a hundred-dollar bonus to all part-time employees and a larger one to the four full-time employees. His father used to do Christmas bonuses. Uncle Pete had stopped that, and so much more.

  Driving north, reading the increasing tenor of Pete’s texts, Jed knew the store had to move forward in some ways and turn back the hands of time in others.

  He locked up, started for the car, and spotted Mia.

  Tears streaked her cheeks.

  She’d forgotten to put a hat on, and her pretty hair was being blown about by a Pacific Northwest wind.

  He hurried to her side and drew her in. “Hey. Hey. It’s all right. I’m here, Mia. Right here.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  He held her close, letting her talk.

  “I went away to make something of myself.”

  He kept his arms snug, cradling her to his chest. “Which you did.”

  “I needed to prove to myself that I could rise above my background. Be someone smart and take-charge and sure of herself.” She sighed against his chest. Her hands curled into fists. “And then I come back here and see him . . . hear him . . . and right away I’m that twelve-year-old kid with no mother, a wretched father, and no future.”

  Jed’s heart ached for her. He’d missed so much of her misery as a kid because he was surrounded by faith, hope, and love. She’d known the direct opposite. “Except none of that is true now, and you proved it wasn’t true then. It was lousy and miserable, but you got yourself up and out. Doesn’t that count for something?” He drew back and cradled her face between his two gloved hands. “You made it, Mia. That’s something wonderful to take credit for.”

  “I made it straight into the arms of a cheater and liar, so what does that say about me, Jed?” She stared up at him, angry and defiant. “It says I’m weak. It says I’m needy and foolish and willing to compromise my principles to be loved, except that wasn’t love at all. Not with my father. And not with Daniel. And I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t be here. I can’t—”

  “Shh.” He drew her back in, and tucked her against his chest. Behind him stood the business his father worked for, all his life, a business handed down by his grandfather, John Taylor. West of them stood a family ranch, a ranch that bore Jed’s name.

  He had employees counting on him.

  He had family counting on him.

  Responsibilities loomed in every direction and right now all he wanted was to be able to make this right for Mia, but there was no way he could do that. He couldn’t change the past, and until she was ready to handle it face-to-face she couldn’t deal with the setting.

  This was home. But the longing in his heart said he wanted Roslyn to be her home, too. Just to see if maybe . . .

  “I’ve got to get back. I needed to step away. I meant to sit right there, holding Grandpa’s hand, but then Dad came in, all fired up about his future, what he wants to do, where he wants to go, and I lost it because once again, it was all about him. Like it’s always been. Celia let me use the center’s transport car.”

  “I’ll follow you back.”

  “No.” She put firm hands on his upper arms. “I needed a shoulder and you provided it, but I can handle my father. I hate it, but I can do it. And I want to be with Grandpa for however long he has.”

  “Unless that baby decides to be born.”

  Mia grimaced. “I know.” She sighed. “I’ll call a local doctor in the morning to apprise them.”

  “Ellensburg is over a half hour away.”

  “Well, they say first babies take a while, so that should be fine.” She stepped back as the wind caught her hair. “I’ll call you if anything happens, okay?”

  “The first call you make. Promise?”

  She studied him. Hope lightened her features, not much, but enough to poke some of that hope his way. “Promise.”

  She got into the car and drove south toward the assisted living center.

  He ignored her instruction not to follow her, because it felt good to make sure she was safe and sound. And when she turned at the care center door and waved, he knew he’d done the right thing.

  He couldn’t change Roslyn.

  He couldn’t change her father.

  But he prayed that she might find a way to give herself and their hometown another chance, and figured they both deserved it.

  Chapter Eleven

  December 23, Roslyn, Washington

  Christmas music played softly in Grandpa’s room as the night wore on. He lay back, propped up slightly to ease the pressure of breathing.

  Peace marked his face in sleep. A gentle contentment, as if he was at ease with this moment.

  How could that be?

  She didn’t know, but she’d give just about anything to face life with that kind of equilibrium.

  She sank down into the chair and grasped his hand.

  His eyes fluttered open, but not at her. Beyond her.

  He smiled.

  Oh, that smile! It did her heart good to see it. She leaned forward, laid her head against the side of his chest, and squeezed his hand lightly. “Hey, handsome.”

  Her voice drew his gaze, but she read reluctance in his eyes, as if he’d seen something wonderful. Something glorious. “Mia.”

  She nodded and kissed his hand. “It’s almost Christmas, Grandpa.”

  “I had Celia get you a box of those chocolate mint things you like so well. I remembered.”

  His voice broke every third word, but he clutched her hand and looked toward the nightstand near his bed. “I’m leaving you my picture.”

  The framed quote from the Bible had been on his desk for as long as she could remember. “I’ll treasure it, Grandpa.”

  His smile faded. He pulled for air.

  Momentary panic set in.

  What should she do? He had a DNR.

  But could she sit here as a medical professional and watch him pass away?

  Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you.

  The framed words on the nightstand prodded her to take a breath. “It’s all right, Grandpa. I’m right here. I’ll stay right here with you, okay?”

  The smile flickered a flash of warmth, then faded with his breathing.

  Celia stepped into the room.

  Mia looked up, eyes wet.

  “Well, now.” Celia took a seat on the other side of the bed. “Heaven awaits its own, doe
sn’t it?”

  Did it?

  Mia swiped a tissue to her face with her free hand.

  Celia began humming the warm notes of a hymn Mia heard as a child, a hymn Jed’s mother sang often.

  Grandpa’s eyes closed. His breathing slowed . . . then stopped.

  Mia couldn’t release his hand.

  He’d been her stronghold for so long, the one person she could go to, growing up, and then she’d stayed away on purpose because he’d know something was wrong.

  All that time wasted, and now she couldn’t make it up to him.

  “He sure did love you, child.”

  “I did nothing to deserve it,” Mia whispered around the lump in her throat. “Nothing at all.”

  “Well, isn’t that the beauty of true love?” Celia noted the framed sign with a glance. “It’s never about the deserving. It’s about the giving and forgiving, and that’s really all a body needs to know. To love, live, and forgive.”

  Forgiveness.

  Her father. Daniel. Those other women.

  Normal people shouldn’t have to overlook broken bonds of love, should they?

  Celia leaned forward and removed a chain from Grandpa’s neck. A small gold cross hung from the chain, flat and unadorned, but strong in its simplicity. “He told me when the time came, to make sure you got this.” She reached over and pressed the cross into Mia’s hand. “And the picture, there.”

  And then she prayed, softly, words of commendation and praise, as if they sprang from her heart spontaneously. Mia sat quietly, listening, and when Celia was done, she placed one hand on Grandpa’s shoulder in benediction before turning her gaze toward Mia. “Do you want to sit with him awhile?”

  Unable to speak, Mia nodded.

  Celia rounded the bed and gave her a big hug. “You blessed him by making it here, child. You gave him permission to go home.”

  She left.

  Soft carols crooned in the background. Outside, multi-colored strings of lights adorned the trees surrounding the small adult living center. They cast a rainbow’s glow on the snow below.

  Grandpa was gone.

  The baby squirmed, indignant about the lack of space, a quick, stretching reminder.

  Life goes on.

  Mia leaned her face against Joe’s and kissed him good-bye. He’d never asked why she hadn’t come back. He just waited until she did, and maybe that’s what true love was all about. Waiting and trusting.

  She picked up the picture and moved to the door.

  She had patience. She’d needed it with Daniel and nursing.

  But she hadn’t been able to trust anyone or anything in as long as she could remember, and maybe that was the push she needed. To take a chance and trust again.

  She walked through the open door and there was Jed, waiting.

  Her heart jumped.

  He was here. Now. In her moment of need. She moved forward, into his arms. “How did you know?”

  He shook his head, his cheek against her hair. “I didn’t. I just stayed out here, praying.”

  He’d stayed.

  Tears stung her eyes again.

  He’d stayed without being asked.

  It was too much to think about, the blessing of such kindness, but his quiet, steady presence made her think that maybe . . . just maybe . . . things could be all right.

  They started forward.

  She ground to a halt, grabbed the back of a lobby chair, and breathed.

  The pain built, low and deep, then high, circling her middle in a way that promised this was no Braxton Hicks moment.

  “Mia?”

  Celia moved alongside. “You been feelin’ these pains for a while?”

  “Off and on.” She took a deep, cleansing breath. “Yes.”

  Celia looked at Jed. “I don’t think you’re going home tonight, Jed Taylor. It looks to me like your first stop is the hospital in Ellensburg.”

  “The baby’s coming?”

  Celia laughed and clapped him on the back. “I’ll call them to expect you. The roads are clear; the moon’s got her sweet light shining. And then call me, and tell me about this baby, you hear? We’ll take care of Grandpa Joe.”

  Another pain started to ripple as she took a step. “I’ll bring the car to the door.” Jed didn’t walk across the festive entry.

  He ran. And he was back in less than a minute, holding the doors wide while Celia walked her out. He got her into the car, climbed into the driver’s seat, then pulled out, headed east.

  Once they were on the straightaway of I-90, he reached over, covered her hand with one of his. When she looked up, he flashed her a smile so sweet, she thought she might weep again. “Let’s do this.”

  “It appears we have little choice,” she scolded lightly as another pain began. “You don’t mind being with me?”

  “Oh, honey.” He kept his eyes on the road, but his hand patted hers gently. “We started this trip a few days back, thinking it would be a straight road, and we met plenty of curves and roadblocks along the way. We did all right.

  “This?” He chanced a quick glance at her middle as he drove. “This is the reward we’ve been waiting for.”

  It was.

  Her daughter.

  Her very own little girl to love and cherish.

  Her throat choked up, but since that had been a regular occurrence, she forced herself beyond the emotion as she rode out the pain. When the lights of the hospital appeared twenty minutes later, Mia was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be a long night of waiting.

  And it wasn’t.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jed had never properly sympathized with the cows before, but after watching Mia in labor he vowed to never be cavalier about giving birth again.

  “Hey.” He tiptoed into the room once things had settled. “You did it.”

  “I did.” Mia looked up at him.

  Gone was the sadness.

  The fear was erased.

  Joy had won out, and as she unwrapped a portion of the hospital blanket for him to see the baby’s face, her smile brightened the room. “She’s perfect, Jed.”

  “That’s not exactly a surprise, Mia.” He smiled down at her, then crouched alongside the bed. “She’s got a great mama setting the example for her.”

  “Oh, Jed.” She smiled up at him, and he couldn’t help himself.

  He kissed her.

  He kissed her gently but lovingly, a kiss meant to let her know she meant something special to him. He dropped his forehead to hers. “So. Mia.”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  “Does she have a name? Because I know she doesn’t have a stitch to wear.”

  Mia flushed. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “Not necessarily. But you are a woman, so it could apply.”

  That made her smile. “I was scared.”

  Tell him something he didn’t know. “I got that part.”

  “I felt like my world was falling apart, and I didn’t dare think of names or clothes or anything because what if something horrible happened? I didn’t think I could face dismantling everything, putting her things away or giving them away. So I just waited.”

  Scared and alone, great with child. A Christmas story, for certain. “My mom says they’re throwing you a shower the first of the year, that there’s nothing more special to welcome a new year than a new baby. She’s got a bedroom ready for you, a bassinet my sister used, plenty of sheets, burp cloths, and diapers. We’ve also got several pink John Deere onesies, and a stack of freshly washed newborn stuff from my sister.”

  “I did pack one thing for her.”

  “In your bag?”

  She nodded. “Just in case she decided to spend Christmas with me.” He crossed to the single bag in the closet, opened it, and lifted the tiniest Christmas sleeper he’d ever seen. “So you were prepared, after all. How silly of me to doubt.”

  She laughed.

  It felt good to see her laugh, to see her relax with this baby, to see her joyful face.

>   Now if he could just convince her to stay.

  “You need to go home and rest,” she told him.

  He pointed to the clever chair that transformed into a cot. “Staying right here.”

  “You can’t miss work, Jed, and the store opens in five hours.”

  “I’ve worked on short sleep before. It’ll happen again. And I’m still waiting for a name, Mia.” He leaned over and stroked the baby’s cheek with one finger. She squirmed and made tiny sucking noises, then a few odd squeaks for good measure.

  “Josie. Josie Mae.”

  A perfect name shared by two beings who passed in the night. “For Grandpa.”

  “Do you like it, Jed?”

  “I love it.” He yawned. So did Mia, and when the nurse came in to bundle Josie off to the nursery for routine testing he stretched out on the cot. “If you need anything, just say so, okay?”

  She reached out and touched his hand. “I can’t convince you to go?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m glad, Jed.” She smiled at him from her higher vantage point, a flicker of a smile. She dozed off, exhausted.

  So did he.

  * * *

  There was no resting in a hospital.

  Babies and nurses and lab techs and doctors and noises made anything more than a catnap rather impossible, and Mia vowed to take patients’ sleep time more seriously from this point forward when she returned to work.

  “We’re letting you go in the morning so you can have Christmas Eve at home!” a bright-eyed young nurse exclaimed late afternoon. “You’re both doing fine and Dr. Oswald has set up an appointment to see Josie in four days. His staff will walk you through everything, okay?”

 

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