Someone at the elementary school had decorated the teacher’s lounge with a horrifying collection of Santa figurines, but the gingerbread houses more than made up for it. The long rectangular tables were packed with entries and the room was thick with the smell of frosting, gingerbread, and chocolate.
April leaned in to look through the windows of a house. Flames. Someone had made an actual gingerbread fireplace complete with flames using broken candy. And the entry next door had billowing snow drifts of spun sugar and curtains at the windows of homemade taffy.
They were so out of their league.
“Wow, I feel stupid,” she said quietly to Scott as they moved on to a gingerbread mansion with working Christmas lights. “Our house is pathetic; Em’s going to be crushed.”
“It’s not that bad,” Scott said in a low tone. “There are plenty of others like yours, or worse.”
He was right. Interspersed among the creepy Santas and the masterpieces were many amateur attempts with the same crooked walls, haphazard roofs, and globs of icing as theirs.
“She liked making it and that’s the important thing,” April sighed. She edged around the wheelchair and put her hand under Ben’s chin. “Lift your head, Benny,” she nudged him gently and he brought his head up with a jerk.
April helped position him more securely against the padded headrest. “Do you like the houses?”
Ben’s smile lit up his whole face.
“Only a participation ribbon?” Emily moaned when she saw the white ribbon next to their entry.
“Don’t worry about it,” Scott said. “The prizes are one person’s opinion. Yours is very clever. No one else thought to make a woodpile with candy canes.”
The woodpile was Emily’s idea. She looked at it and a small smile crept back onto her face.
“We can try again next year,” April said, but only in an attempt to be supportive. She had no intention of ever building another gingerbread house. Ever.
Emily was getting bored, but April didn’t want to pull Ben away from the houses when he enjoyed them so much. “Could you take Emily to decorate cookies?” she turned to Scott. “I’ll stay here a bit longer with Ben.”
“Should I make some for Trevor?” Emily asked.
“One. If he stays home to play video games instead of coming to the party, he misses out.”
They left and April pushed Ben around the room, stopping frequently at anything that caught his eye. Some of the entries were truly amazing – who knew there was such talent in Snow Valley? She examined the tiny gingerbread cemetery in front of a gingerbread church and wondered how long it had taken.
The baker had even carved names into the tombstones.
“That one’s mine,” Wade sauntered over. He was wearing the denim jacket he’d had in high school, the one she loved to borrow because it smelled like him. She’d even slept in it a few times.
Her heart leapt and she couldn’t keep from smiling. “Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious. When I’m not mucking out stables, I like to frost gingerbread.” He crouched so he was eye level with Ben and reached out to help him raise his drooping head again. “Hey Benny, how you doing?” he said gently.
Ben gave him a huge grin.
“That good, huh? You like the houses?” Wade smiled as Ben became even more excited. “Are you managing him okay?” he asked April as he stood up.
“Mostly. His nurse has been a big help. She’s over every day all day; she even does his physical therapy. I haven’t had the nerve to ask how much my parents are paying her, but it’s got to be expensive, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” Wade replied. “There are programs to help families pay for disabled care. They could have signed up with one of those.”
April nodded. She hadn’t thought of that.
He looked around the room. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Trevor stayed home; Emily and Scott are in the gym,” April replied, and did not miss his slight frown at the mention of Scott. “Are you here with anyone?” she couldn’t keep from asking.
Wade scratched the back of his neck. “Tracie’s in the ladies room. After this we’re gonna ride up into the mountains and make out.”
For one horrible second she thought he meant it; then she caught the gleam in his eye. “Stop it, Ego,” she slugged him lightly on the shoulder. “I never should have told you that.”
“Would it bother you?” Wade asked quickly.
Their eyes met and held and April caught her breath. What could she possibly say to that?
Then Wade’s gaze shifted to the door and back to her. April turned to see Scott coming toward them, Emily in tow. His mouth was set in a grim line.
“The Adams twins started a frosting fight,” Emily explained breathlessly. “We had to get out of there.” She held out a paper plate of decorated cookies for April’s inspection, oblivious to the sudden tension among the three adults.
“You must be the fiancé,” Wade spoke first. He was several inches taller than Scott and he was working it.
“And you must be the ex-boyfriend,” Scott said in an equally chilly tone.
They reminded April of two roosters squaring off in the chicken coop. “Um … yeah. Sorry, I forgot to introduce you.” As if introducing these two should have been among her top priorities.
“My future wife has been telling me a lot about you,” Scott said, with a ridiculously heavy emphasis on the words.
“Really?” Wade raised an eyebrow. “She hasn’t told me anything about you.”
Oh … he did not just say that.
April felt Scott’s simmering anger and she threw Wade a dirty look. The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew he was trying not to smile.
“We should probably get Ben home,” she said in a clipped voice. “Em, are you ready?”
“Yep,” Emily said with her mouth full of cookies.
“Let’s get out of here.” April leaned into the wheelchair to get it moving and stomped toward the door.
“Well, that was a cozy scene,” Scott snapped as soon as they were in the van. He slammed the door and threw the engine into drive.
“He was simply saying hello,” April replied wearily.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“It’s a community event; I’ve been away from home. Of course, people will want to say 'hi'.”
“People? As in plural? I didn’t see anyone else there with you.”
“I’m so tired of having this hanging between us,” April burst out. “I don’t know what else I have to do to convince you I’m over it.”
Scott brought his palm down on the steering wheel with a crack. “How about you don’t run around with him? Shall we start there?”
Silently, April prayed Emily would stay quiet about Big C’s. She would tell Scott eventually, but now was definitely not the time.
“We weren’t running around,” she said finally, her eyes on the road.
“You know what I mean.”
“Why are you so threatened?”
“I’m not threatened,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask you to stay away from him.”
“Okay, I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Later as she straightened the house, April took a stack of mail to the desk in the corner where her mother had left a list of important numbers tacked to the bulletin board. She ran her finger over the numbers next to Wade’s name, wishing she had the courage to tell him to leave her alone and at the same time, wishing she could ask him to come take her away.
Chapter Eight
APRIL WAS ADDING ANOTHER SCOOP OF hot chocolate mix to her cup when Trevor burst through the door the next morning. “One of the goats is sick. She didn’t get inside last night and she’s really cold.”
“Didn’t you make a count before you locked the door?” April asked.
“I did; I must have made a mistake.” He looked devastated. “What if she dies?”
April pushed her chair back and
stood up. “I’ll get Scott and let’s go see her.”
“Should I call Wade?” Trevor offered. “He just left a few minutes ago.”
“No,” April said quickly. “We can handle it.”
There must be some obscure rule that all farm trucks have to be completely thrashed, April thought as she gazed at her dad’s truck. The front bumper was collapsed, the right fender was dented, the tailgate was held together with bright orange baling twine, and the whole thing was starting to rust. She felt a surge of fondness for her dad.
“Does this thing even run?” Scott looked horrified. He hadn’t been too thrilled when April asked for his help, but had agreed to come along. At least that was something. Plus, if he was going to marry a farmer’s daughter, he’d better get used to at least a little bit of farm work.
“Sure it runs,” April pulled a knit cap over her hair. “Get in, you’re driving.” When he hesitated, she smiled sweetly. “Or we can take your car?”
Scott gave a gusty sigh and slid into the truck. He slammed the door, only to have it bounce open. He tried again with the same results.
“You have to tie it shut with that bungee cord,” April scooted into the passenger side and pointed to the yellow cord wrapped around the driver’s door handle. One hooked end dangled free.
“Uh … how exactly?”
“Hold the door closed,” she ordered. When he did, she leaned across his legs to grab the end of the cord, stretch it, and hook it to a bracket on the bottom of the seat.
“How in the world did this pass inspection?” Scott asked.
April gave him a blank look. “Why would it need to pass inspection? We only use it on the farm.”
“Well, that’s something new … as is that.” Scott pointed to the two holes in the floorboards of the passenger side. One was so large a foot could fit through it and they could see the snow on the ground below.
“Those are very convenient if you have to pee,” April said.
“Are you kidding?”
“If you’re a guy,” she amended. “Girls have a bit more of a challenge.”
He looked skeptical. “Don’t tell me you’ve tried it.”
She gave him a shameless grin. “Okay, I won’t tell you.” She hadn’t tried it, but it was fun to see him squirm.
Scott leaned away from her, as if she might suggest he try peeing through a hole in a truck right here and now. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“That’s farm life,” April shrugged. “Well, see ya.” She made a move to get out of the cab.
He grabbed her arm. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“I’m riding in the back.”
“No, you’re not. What if you fall out?”
April sighed. “I’m not going to fall out, but if by chance I do, I’ll aim for a snowbank.”
She climbed into the back of the truck while Trevor took her place in the cab and slammed the door. Fortunately his side stayed closed without the need of a bungee cord. Scott turned the key and the engine coughed and sputtered.
“Pump the gas,” April hollered from the back. She thought she heard him swearing, but couldn’t be sure.
When the engine roared to life, April cheered and pounded on the back window in triumph. Scott threw her a dark look and started down the driveway.
They reached the road and Scott, following Trevor’s instructions, turned left. He picked up a little speed and loose hay leaves in the bed of the truck caught the wind and swirled away. April took a deep breath. She felt like a child again, going off to do the chores with her daddy.
She began to hum Ghostriders in the Sky. Her dad used to sing with her on rides like this – Johnny Cash, Marty Robbins, and Hank Snow were his favorites. April wondered if he still sang when he did the chores and realized with a pang how much she wanted to be there to hear him. By growing up and moving away, she had distanced herself from her family, the farm, Snow Valley, and other things she had thought to hold dear forever. In the back of the truck, she started to feel as if she belonged again. She sang louder and began keeping time by beating on the hood of the cab.
They reached the goat barn and April jumped down before the truck had completely stopped. “That was quite a concert,” Scott said. “I’ve never heard you sing like that before.” His mouth was pressed into a tense line.
“I sing, just not at school,” she said lightly, determined not to let him ruin her good mood.
“So I’ve noticed.”
A small black goat lay on her side next to the barn, glassy eyed and bleating feebly. They could see her shivering.
“Poor thing!” April said. She threw herself down in the straw, tugged off her glove, and laid her hand on the animal’s neck. “She’s so cold.”
“Won’t she warm up once she’s in the barn?” Scott asked.
“Not if she’s got hypothermia,” Trevor said. “She won’t be able to get warm again on her own and she’ll die.
April looked up and locked eyes with Trevor. “We need to take her home,” she decided and he nodded.
“Take her home?” Scott asked. He hung back by the gate and seemed reluctant to approach the goat.
“We’ll take her inside and get her warmed up.” Trevor told him.
“Inside where … the house?”
“It’s no big deal, we’ve done it before,” April put in.
Scott shook his head. “And how are you going to get her there?”
“That’s why we brought the truck,” April answered. She stroked the goat’s black nose. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll take good care of you. Trev, you get the gate, Scott and I will lift her.”
“What?” Scott protested. “How am I supposed to …?”
“Grab her legs and lift,” April said, fighting back irritation. She had to remember he wasn’t used to this.
He gave her a sour look. “I don’t think so.”
“Fine. You get the gate and Trevor can help me lift her.”
The goat did not appreciate being hauled around like a sack of wheat. She kicked and bucked and they stumbled with her movements. “Don’t let go!” April called, over the animal’s frantic bleating. The struggle was a good sign – it meant she still had enough energy to fight.
At last, they reached the truck and heaved the goat into the back. Her hooves shrieked along the metal bed as she scrambled frantically, trying to stand.
“She’s going to hurt herself,” Trevor said.
“I’ll hold her in,” April hoisted herself into the bed. She tried to capture the goat’s legs in her hands but the animal kicked free, surprisingly strong in its panic. She dodged a flying hoof and then threw all her weight on top of the goat, pinning it to the floor of the truck.
Trevor laughed and held up his phone. “My sister – goat wrestling champion of the world. Smile for Facebook, April.”
“Just hurry,” April gasped as she got a whiff of goat stank at close range.
The ride back was not nearly as fun as the ride out. April was spread eagle, angling her body over the goat to achieve maximum weight distribution, with her nose buried in the goat’s coarse hair. She was nearly thrown off several times as the goat continued to try and escape. It jerked and bucked and swung at her with its horns. Each time they hit a bump in the road, it fought harder.
“How ya doing?” Trevor called through the window of the cab.
“AWESOME,” she hollered back. The goat landed a kick to her shin and she shrieked in pain.
“Scott says to tell you 'hi',” Trevor said in a syrupy voice.
“Shut up,” April growled. He was enjoying this way too much. There would be revenge … when she wasn’t so occupied trying to keep a goat from killing them both.
The goat was exhausted by the time they reached the house. Emily spread an old blanket and several layers of dog training pads in front of the wood burning stove and Trevor built up the fire. He opened the doors to the stove and they laid the goat in front of the heat, then sank down exhaustedly on the floor
beside her.
“Does she need a blanket over her too?” Emily asked, tracing the goat’s black horns with her finger.
“I don’t think so,” Trevor said. “She put up a good fight; she’s probably more tired now than cold.”
“It certainly warmed me up,” April gathered her hair off her sweaty neck.
Trevor smirked. “I’ll show you the video, Em. It’s awesome.”
“What? You took video?” April yelped.
“Yep,” he said smugly. “I’m totally going to play it at your wedding.”
At the mention of the wedding, she suddenly remembered Scott. She’d been so wrapped up in the goat drama, she’d forgotten he was there. Now, she looked around and saw him leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, arms folded across his chest.
“Thanks for your help,” April smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood.
“What’s going to happen when that thing pees everywhere?” he scowled.
“That’s why we have the pads,” Emily said. “It’s happened before.”
“Are you okay?” Scott turned to April.
She examined her forearm where an ugly bruise was already forming. “A little beat up, but I’m fine. Exciting, huh?”
He rolled his eyes and pushed away from the doorway. “I’m going to take a shower and then check my email.” He disappeared down the basement stairs and they heard a door slam.
“Whoa.” Trevor muttered. “Why’s he so mad?”
“He’s not used to this; he’ll come around,” April said. She got to her feet. “Where’s Ben?”
“Still in bed,” Emily said. “We were watching cartoons.”
“Help me get him up. He’ll love this.”
Ben crowed with delight when he saw the goat. April parked his wheelchair next to the blanket and he nodded in approval and smiled.
“Cool, huh?” Emily said to him. Her eyes danced with excitement. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a goat in the house.”
April returned her smile. “Let’s get some pictures for Mom and Dad.”
They spent the next hour taking selfies with the goat, who seemed content to sleep in the warmth.
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