Homespun Christmas. Aimee Thurlo
The dog’s got food and water in two places and the weather’s still in the low fifties at night,” he said.
“You don’t understand. This is about keeping my word to your dad. He trusted me, and I’ve got to find a way to make things right.” Her voice tightened, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat.
“Sometimes things just go wrong. No one’s perfect.”
“This isn’t about perfection. It’s about being able to look at myself in the mirror at the end of the day,” she whispered.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he asked, taking her hand.
She shook her head and waited, almost holding her breath.
“I see a woman who’s done her best for everyone, and who never hesitates to lend a helping hand.”
She smiled. “I appreciate you saying that, but that’s not what I’m going to see until I find Bear.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he said, then kissed her on the forehead. “My dad was very lucky to have a friend like you.”
The tenderness in Joshua’s gaze took her breath away. Her heart ached to feel his arms around her, to feel safe and protected again.
Almost as if he’d read her mind, he pulled her to him. She didn’t resist. It was too tempting, and even if it was only for a moment, she needed to feel wanted for who she was, flaws and all.
His lips brushed hers then, slowly. As his kiss deepened, a sweet fire coursed all through her. It was pure heaven, and she lost herself for one brief moment.
Drawing away at last to take a breath and force herself to think clearly, she stepped back. “We shouldn’t...”
“No, probably not, but we both needed that,” he said. “You and I are connected. We know what it’s like to have our dreams taken away.”
A connection. That’s what she’d felt, but what had given her so much comfort also made her vulnerable. “Maybe that’s true, but it can’t happen again.”
“The problem is that we both want it to.”
His words were open and honest. They stated a fact but made no demands. “We’re both too fragile, Joshua. You’re trying to find a new direction, and I’m fighting to hold on to my life in Independence. We’re on different paths right now. I need to stay here and keep what I have, what I need. You want to leave and find something new, bigger, better.”
“Is that so bad? Living in the past has never worked for me. It never will,” he argued.
“You see? How can we have a relationship when we can’t even agree on what we want beyond today? We can’t afford to get close to each other, not now, maybe not ever.”
“I guess you’re right,” he said, looking away.
They walked around the yard looking for Bear, but there was no sign of him and his tracks disappeared where he’d crossed the road.
Myka checked her watch. “The delivery van will be here soon. I’ve got to finish getting the boxes ready to mail.”
They went back inside, and Josh helped her by sealing boxes with packing tape and sticking on the prepared labels.
After the packages were picked up, she glanced at the grandfather clock and drew in a sharp breath. “Where did this morning go? I’ve got a class here in another hour. I didn’t realize it was already past one.”
“You never told me you were teaching classes,” he said.
“I’m not. The Women’s Guild meets at two the first Friday of every month, and we try to teach each other a new skill. I’ve been learning about colcha embroidery, wool-on-wool work, but I’ve got a long way to go before I turn out anything decent,” she said. “Not that it matters. That’s not the goal of our group.”
“What is?”
“Strengthening our sense of community. There are only a half dozen members left—the others have moved away—so these meetings are more important than ever. It’s our way of lifting each other’s spirits.” She walked him to the door.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, and headed out.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, as Daniel got something to drink from the fridge, Joshua turned on the light and walked down the hall of his father’s house. He stubbed the toe of his boot against a bookcase that was too large for such a narrow space. It was filled with regional history books, most of them University of New Mexico Press titles.
Josh preferred open spaces—that was why much of his architectural resource materials were on DVDs and other digital storage devices. His dad, on the other hand, had been old school, down to his choice of furnishings. All the rooms were cramped and overflowing with large wooden furniture pieces, most of them handmade.
He stepped inside the spare bedroom. This had become his father’s library, a testament to his passion for history.
Daniel followed him, handing Josh a Coke, and looking around. “I only glanced in here before, but now I see what you mean,” he said, and looked at the open maps on the futon. “You can’t just give this away or throw it out. You’ll have to go through everything. Collectors might have use for this stuff, or maybe some university professors.”
“Yeah,” Joshua said. “No way around it. Some of those maps of Independence go back to the late 1800s. I have no idea where Dad got them, or if they’re originals or copies, but they might have historical value.”
“You could check online, or take them to the librarian over in Painted Canyon.”
“What happened to the Independence Library?”
“It closed six months after the plant shut down. IVA had always funded the library utilities and the librarian’s salary in exchange for tax benefits. Once IVA left, the librarian had to be let go. Volunteers filled the gap for a while, but they’d cut services so much that people stopped coming in.”
“What happened to the building and the collection?”
“The books are still there, but the building’s closed,” he said. “You could ask the mayor for the keys if you want to poke though the books and reference materials.”
Joshua nodded, lost in thought. “Speaking of the mayor, any idea what Dad’s connection was to Mayor Allen?”
“I didn’t know there was one,” Daniel said.
“Something was going on. I found a lot of emails back and forth between them. I haven’t had a chance to read through them yet, but I got the impression that Dad was working for him, some kind of local research, I think.”
“Wish I could tell you more, but this is the first I’ve heard of it,” Daniel said, casually straddling one of the chairs. “Your dad would come into the store once a week or so, and he and Grandma would go into the office and talk over coffee. You might ask her if she knows what was going on. She knows everyone’s secrets.”
Josh smiled. “That’s because it’s so easy to talk to her.”
Daniel nodded, then sat for a while, looking around the room at the books, the carved wooden animals on the windowsill and, basically, everywhere but at Josh.
“Okay, Daniel, you finally gonna tell me what’s on your mind? You don’t generally walk away from your work like this in the middle of the day.”
Daniel expelled his breath in a hiss. “Yeah, okay, you got me. I need a favor, actually.”
“Whatever you need, consider it done.”
“It’s about Betty...” He paused, looked down at a stack of old newspapers for a minute, then continued. “She was really antsy at the store the other day, looking