Bundle of Joy

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  And yet he hadn’t minded a single minute of the class. Not even the video. He wasn’t sure how to describe his feelings, except to say he’d felt a part of something important.

  “Joe?” Alicia set her mug on the table. “Would you help me get a tree tomorrow? We need to make things more festive around here. For Grandpa’s sake if for no other.”

  “Sure. Be glad to. There was an article in today’s paper about a place to chop down your own tree.”

  He was about to tell her what else the article had said—about the horse-and-sleigh rides, the barbecued ribs and hot chocolate, and the carolers—but she spoke before he had the chance.

  “Chop? I was thinking more along the lines of the tree lot near the center of town.” She placed one hand on her belly. “I don’t think I’m up to much more than that.”

  “Tell you what,” he said, unwilling to give up on the Currier and Ives image in his head. “If I promise you won’t have to chop anything, not even so much as an onion, will you go to the mountains with me? Just the two of us. We can ask someone to stay with your grandfather if it would ease your mind.”

  For several heartbeats, she said nothing. Then that soft, pleased smile of hers returned, gently curving the corners of her mouth.

  “Okay, Joe, I’ll go with you. If that’s what you want.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alicia awakened early the next morning, feeling as excited as a child. She’d dreamed about being in the mountains with Joe, watching him chop down tall trees. The dream had been so real she would have sworn she smelled the scent of pine in the room.

  A whole day alone with Joe. It sounded wonderful.

  But she didn’t allow herself to read more into it than what was on the surface. She would savor every moment and be thankful for it. She would love him with all her heart. But she wouldn’t ask more from him than what he freely offered.

  Beside her, Rosie stirred, meowed, stretched, then climbed onto Alicia’s lap—what there was of it. Seconds later Rags plopped her muzzle onto the mattress and whined.

  “Morning, Rags,” she whispered as she patted the dog’s head.

  The aroma of coffee drifted into the darkness of the bedroom, telling her that either Joe or her grandfather or both were already up and about. She got out of bed and slipped her arms into her bathrobe, tying the belt above what used to be her waistline. Then, her feet in her slippers, she made a quick stop in the bathroom before making her way to the kitchen.

  Joe stood near the coffeemaker, mug in hand, waiting for the machine to make its last gasp.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Morning.” As he spoke, he reached over to the stove and turned on the burner beneath the teakettle.

  It made her throat tighten, watching him, thinking how nice it was to have someone who knew her so well that he anticipated what she wanted, almost before she knew it herself.

  If only…

  Joe poured himself a cup of coffee, then turned to face her. “By any chance have you seen my brush? It isn’t on the bathroom counter where I thought I left it, and it isn’t in the drawer, either.”

  “Sorry. I haven’t seen it.”

  “Mind if I use yours until I have a chance to buy another?”

  “No. I don’t mind. Help yourself.”

  “Can’t figure it out.” He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her. “I never used to lose things the way I have since I got here.”

  Alicia turned away, making herself busy with a mug and teabag, not wanting Joe to see that she’d lost something since he came here, too.

  Her heart.

  Joe had been a teenager the last time he’d driven this highway through the mountains to Idaho City. It had been winter then, too, and he and a bunch of his friends, as many as they could pack into one vehicle, had spent the day tubing at the gulch, followed by a swim at the hot springs. If memory served, his driving was more conservative on this trip than on the last.

  “You’re grinning,” Alicia said. “What’s funny?”

  He released a low chuckle. “I was thinking what a wonder it is that anybody grows older than sixteen.”

  The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a souped-up, low-slung automobile came barreling up the road behind him. The driver—male, under twenty and stupid—laid on the horn, then passed Joe’s SUV seconds before the road curved to the right. Alicia gasped as the car fishtailed before disappearing from view.

  “See what I mean?”

  She didn’t reply, but he sensed her tension. He let up on the gas pedal, hoping to reassure her.

  “Were you a reckless teenager?” she asked after a lengthy period of silence.

  “Reckless enough.”

  “I don’t remember that about you. You seemed grown-up, so responsible and mature. You were always doing nice things for Belinda.”

  “Not always.” He tried to remember the last time he’d talked to his sister. “I was as rotten to her as my mom let me get away with.”

  “I envied her. She never got lonely the way I did. She always had her big brother to talk to.”

  He cast a quick glance in her direction. “Were you lonely a lot?”

  “Oh, I don’t suppose you could call it a lot. But sometimes…”

  He wished he remembered the child she’d been better than he did; the memories were fuzzy at best. She’d been a girl of ten, skinny, freckled, hair worn in twin braids down her back. His little sister’s friend.

  At seventeen, the only girls he’d noticed were the ones with short skirts or tight jeans, preferably with hormones racing as fast as his own.

  “You’re grinning again.”

  This time his laugh was boisterous.

  “What?”

  “I think I’ll take the Fifth. I want you speaking to me when we get to Idaho City.”

  “Hmm.”

  Her murmur of suspicion only made his grin broaden.

  “Humphrey Harris,” she said in a stage whisper, “no matter how many little brothers or sisters you have, you must promise not to be as rotten to them as Joe was to Belinda.”

  He felt a peculiar flash of disappointment when she used the name Harris with Humphrey. Better not to analyze why.

  “Oh, look!” Alicia’s hand lightly touched his right arm. “Joe, slow down. Look up there. On your left.”

  He followed her commands and saw a small herd of elk on the hillside. The bull raised its head to stare at the highway.

  Joe whistled beneath his breath. “Look at the rack on that fellow.” He pulled to the side of the road and stopped.

  “Isn’t he magnificent?”

  “Sure is. Think of the hunting seasons he’s made it through unscathed. He’s gotta be old to have that many points.”

  “Are you a hunter?” She didn’t sound accusatory, only curious.

  He shrugged. “Some. Never seem to have enough time. But I enjoy a good elk steak when I can get it.”

  “Well, I’m glad no hunter’s shot that one.”

  “Me, too.” He looked at Alicia. “Because then I couldn’t have shared him with you.”

  They reached Idaho City before eleven. Not unexpectedly, the streets in this former gold rush town in the central Idaho mountains were quiet. Tomorrow, a Saturday, would be different. Folks from the valley would come up for trees or sledding, cross-country skiing, snowmobiling or a relaxing swim at the hot springs. But today it was the locals whose four-wheel-drive vehicles were parked in front of the various business establishments, few as they were.

  “Where to now?” Alicia asked.

  She leaned closer to the window and looked at the high walls of dirty snow the plows had left on either side of the road. It was difficult to see most of the buildings because of it.

  “The paper said I could get directions at the Gold Bar Saloon.”

  “Not the ranger station?”

  “You know how it is in these small towns. Nobody does things the way you ex
pect.” Joe turned off the main drag and slowed to a mere crawl. “There it is.”

  The Gold Bar Saloon was not much more than a large, faded sign and a false storefront. Judging by its exterior, it had to be one of the surviving buildings from the late 1800s.

  Joe parked his vehicle in front of the saloon. “Need to use the restroom?”

  “Yes. I’d better.” She pressed a hand into the small of her back. “Besides, I need to stretch a bit.”

  “Sit tight. I’ll come around for you.”

  Alicia smiled to herself. She had to admit this sort of service was one of the few perks of being pregnant. Even men who would never otherwise think of opening a door for a woman had been opening doors for her for the past couple of months. They also pulled out chairs and allowed her to move ahead in a line.

  She was going to miss the many small courtesies once they stopped.

  Joe opened the passenger-side door. “Here we go.”

  She took hold of his hand, and he helped her to the ground. Immediately he took hold of her arm with a firm grasp. She’d grown to like that, too, Joe walking close, protecting her.

  Once inside the dilapidated building, he paused to let their eyes adjust to the dim light. Then he said, “There’s the restroom. You go ahead. I’ll get directions and meet you back here.”

  She didn’t argue with him, suddenly in a hurry, in the way of all expectant mothers. But hurrying didn’t turn out to be an easy thing. Not dressed as she was in several layers of clothes. Why on earth had she purchased a pair of bibbed maternity snowpants?

  As she reached beneath her oversize sweater and bulky down coat to release the straps from their clasps, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. No one that big should have to go through such crazy gyrations, she thought. And then she chuckled. At this rate she would still be in the restroom an hour from now.

  What was keeping her? Joe wondered. If she didn’t speed things up, they were going to miss their scheduled departure to the lodge. He glanced at his watch again, then back at the restroom door.

  “Come on, Alicia. Get a move on.”

  As if on cue, the door opened, and out she came, smiling as if someone had told her a joke.

  “Ready?”

  She arched an eyebrow at his impatient tone. Her smile faded. “Why? Are the trees going somewhere?”

  “No.” But he wanted to keep his secret a little longer. “Guess I’m afraid Christmas will get here before we’re ready.” He took hold of her arm. “Can’t let that happen.”

  “Do we have time for me to get something to drink? I was hoping—”

  “I think there’s a store up the road a ways. We’ll stop there.”

  “But I’m thirsty. Can’t I—”

  He pretended not to hear. He steered her out the saloon doorway, to his vehicle and into the passenger seat. When he settled behind the wheel, he could feel her staring at him in confusion. He didn’t return the look. He was afraid he would spoil the surprise if he did.

  He pulled onto the street. When he reached the highway, he turned north again, heading higher into the mountains. They drove in silence, and he assumed she was mad at him for refusing to get her a beverage. He couldn’t blame her, but hoped she would forgive him once they reached their destination.

  The road curved, and suddenly there was a huge sign. Christmas Sleigh Rides, it proclaimed. A red arrow guided him to a parking lot cut out of the forest.

  “Joe?”

  He dared to glance her way as the SUV rolled to a stop.

  “Merry Christmas, Alicia.”

  He would have been hard-pressed to describe what the look in her eyes made him feel.

  “Oh, Joe.”

  “Surprised?”

  “Yes.” There were tears in her eyes and the brightest of smiles on her mouth.

  Then he knew what he felt like…like somebody’s hero. Like Alicia’s hero.

  “I thought we were getting a tree?” she said softly.

  “We are.” He shut off the engine, unfastened his seat belt, and opened his door. “A tree and a whole lot more. Come on. You’ll see.”

  It was one of the best days of her life.

  Three couples and the driver rode in a bright red sleigh that was pulled by a pair of draft horses with thick winter coats and flowing manes and tails. The steady but muffled beat of their hooves matched the rhythm of jingling bells on the rigging. Otherwise, the snow-covered mountains were silent.

  Beneath a layer of plaid woolen blankets, Alicia snuggled against Joe’s side, enjoying the passing countryside almost as much as the feel of his arm around her shoulders.

  She couldn’t get over that he’d done this for her. That he’d plotted and planned, keeping it a secret. She had to remind herself not to make Joe’s surprise into more than he’d intended it to be.

  “Warm enough?” he asked her.

  “Yes.” But she snuggled closer, anyway.

  “Look over there, folks.”

  Alicia reluctantly moved her head from Joe’s shoulder, following the driver’s outstretched arm with her gaze. She was just in time to see a fox darting across a clearing, a reddish-brown blur against the white landscape.

  “He’s not the only one looking for something to eat,” the driver said, pointing again, this time upward.

  “What is it?” the woman behind Alicia asked.

  “Prairie falcon.”

  The bird soared effortlessly, as if it were suspended from heaven itself.

  “He’s takin’ it easy right now,” the driver continued. “But falcons have been known to dive at over two hundred miles an hour. Pesticides and spreadin’ cities have about killed ’em off, but they’re makin’ a comeback. If you’ve never been, you ought to visit the Birds of Prey Reserve down on the Snake River.”

  In a low voice Joe said, “Makes a person thankful to be alive, seeing the beauty of God’s creation.”

  “Yes.” She glanced at him. “Thank you, Joe.”

  He smiled, then he kissed her forehead. “I’m having a good time, too.”

  The driver interrupted again. “We’ll be to the lodge soon. It’s around the next bend.”

  Alicia was sorry to hear it. She didn’t want this ride to end.

  As if he’d read her thoughts, Joe tightened his arm and said, “The day’s not over yet.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The focal point of the lodge’s cavernous main room was a stone fireplace. A blazing fire on the grate greeted the cold but cheerful group when they entered the lodge.

  Like the others with her, Alicia looked around, delighted by everything she saw.

  The hardwood floor was scuffed and scratched, worn from years of use. Rustic log beams ran the length of the ceiling. Near the center of the room, three round tables had been set with red tablecloths, white tapers in crystal candleholders, and plates with a pattern of holly and mistletoe painted around the edges. A pair of Christmas trees, draped with garlands of red, green and silver, added to the festive decor. Familiar carols played over loudspeakers decorated with tinsel and candy canes, and delicious odors wafted from the adjoining kitchen area.

  Joe leaned close to Alicia. “Notice how they’ve placed those Christmas trees. You can’t see the other tables. They’re giving each couple their privacy.”

  His warm breath on her neck caused goose pimples to rise on her arm.

  “Hope you like barbecue,” he added.

  “I do.”

  “It seemed more of a summertime offering to me, but I guess it goes with the surroundings.”

  She looked at him. “It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect.”

  His grin made it even more so.

  A large man—easily six foot four, with a girth that matched his height—came through a pair of swinging doors from the kitchen, a Santa hat perched on his head.

  “Welcome folks. Come on in. Come on in.” He motioned with his hands. “That’s right. Take yourselves over by the fire and get warm. I’m Harold, owner of the Nugget
Lodge. This here’s my wife, Marisa.”

  A woman about half her husband’s size stepped from behind him, flashing a bright smile at one and all. She wore a Santa hat, too.

  “You just give your coats to Marisa,” Harold continued, “and then make yourselves at home. We’ll have your dinners out in no time. Sure hope you’re hungry.” With that he turned and strode into the kitchen.

  Marisa came forward with an outstretched arm. “Let me take your coats. Did you stay warm enough in the sleigh? Did you see any deer? How about elk? See any of them?” She kept talking without giving anyone a chance to answer her questions.

  Alicia exchanged an amused glance with Joe as she handed her coat to the woman.

  “Well, look at you!” Marisa exclaimed. “About ready to pop, ain’t you? When’s that baby due?” Finally, an expectant pause.

  “Next month,” Alicia replied.

  Marisa looked at Joe. “You’re one lucky man. You take good care of this pretty little mama now.” She winked at him, then moved off toward the other couples.

  Over the stereo speakers, a new song began to play. It was one of her favorite Christmas carols: “Mary, Did You Know?” As the melody filled the air, she couldn’t help imagining Mary and Joseph on a wintry night in Bethlehem many centuries before—tired, hungry, in need of shelter for the night, Mary large with child. Had Mary often wondered about what the future would bring for her precious son, the way Alicia often wondered about her child’s future?

  She smiled, certain that in many ways, Mary was just like her—a mother who wanted only the very best for the baby she carried in her womb.

  Was it possible Alicia had grown prettier over the weeks since Joe first met with her in that coffee shop?

  Firelight flickered across her features and streaked her hair with gold. There was a pretty peach-pink flush in her cheeks and a soft upward curve in the corners of her mouth. Her eyes had turned from aquamarine to midnight-blue in the dimly lit room.

  He might have kissed her if the proprietor hadn’t poked his head out of the kitchen to announce they should all be seated.