'Tis the Season: Under the Christmas Tree / Midnight Confessions / Backward Glance

When she pulled up to his house, a woman was just leaving the clinic, locking the door behind her. She was a tiny thing with salt-and-pepper hair cut supershort, and when she might have headed for the only car parked outside the clinic, she stopped and waited for Annie with a smile on her lips.

Annie approached her. “You must be Virginia,” she said.

“And you would be Annie McKenzie,” the older woman said. “Nice to meet you. I met your parents some years ago, but I think all you kids were either at school or had maybe already left home. Nate’s not home yet, but you have a key, right?”

“I do,” she said. “Thanks for helping with those puppies. These are for you,” she added on a whim, passing Virginia the plate of brownies.

“You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did. Annie, tell Nathaniel to give you both the clinic and my home phone numbers and to leave your phone number for me. If we run into a situation when he’s stuck out at a farm or ranch, we can work together to cover for him. I live in Clear River and he tells me you’re in Fortuna. It’s about the same distance for both of us to get here.”

“Sure. And I’ll tell him to call me first. I don’t have a husband to irritate by running off somewhere to take care of puppies.”

Virginia tilted her head, regarding her. “He doesn’t talk about women, you know,” she said.

“Your husband?” Annie answered, confused.

Virginia laughed. “Nathaniel. Can’t get a word out of him about his love life. And I’ve known him since he was this high,” she said, her hand measuring about midthigh.

“Maybe it’s not much of a—”

“But he’s talked about you for a week now. Annie this, and Annie that.”

Annie’s eyes grew round and maybe a little panicked. “This and that what?” she asked.

“I think he finds you delightful. Maybe amazing. You knew exactly what to do with the puppies because, raised by Hank and Rose, you were trained to know. And you’re tall. For years he’s been asking me if I’ve always been this short. I think he likes tall women. When you were little, he said, you had a big batch of curly, carrot-orange hair, but you obviously outgrew it. You shot a mountain lion, butchered a cow, raised a blue-ribbon bull. Oh, and you’re beautiful. But a little crabby, which he finds humorous.” Virginia shook her head. “Nathaniel likes to try to find his way around a difficult woman,” she said with a grin. “Being the youngest of four with three bossy older sisters, he can’t help it, so don’t let down your guard.”

Annie laughed. No problem there—her guard was up.

“It’s nice that you two have renewed your friendship,” Virginia added.

“But, Virginia, we were never friends,” Annie said. “We barely recall each other from childhood. He knew my older brothers, but not that well. We all went to different schools and might’ve run into each other at fairs, 4-H stuff, that sort of thing. Really—a long time ago. A couple of decades ago.”

But the woman only flashed her friendly grin. “Isn’t it great when you renew an acquaintance with someone you have that kind of history with?”

That kind of history? Annie wondered. That wasn’t much history. “But we don’t know each other as adults. Not at all.”

Virginia laughed. “Bet that’ll be the fun part. Now, you call me if you need me,” she said, moving toward her car. “And thanks for the brownies! My husband will be as thrilled as I am!”

“Sure,” Annie said. “Of course.”

Virginia paused at her car door. “Annie, if you need anything other than puppy care, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

“Thanks,” she said.

* * *

It wasn’t long after Annie had spoken to Virginia and let herself into Nate’s house that he came home. She heard his truck enter the garage, and when he walked in the door to the kitchen, his face lit up. “Hey,” he said. “I thought I’d beat you here.”

“Just got here,” she said. “And something smells good.”

“I just hope it also tastes good. I admit, Virginia gave me a hand.”

“No shame in that, Nate.” Then she smiled at him. Standing in the kitchen like that, waiting as he walked in the door after work, felt very nice. And then she told herself not to fantasize. Just one day at a time.

They fed the puppies and while a roast simmered in the Crock-Pot, complete with potatoes, carrots, onions and whole mushrooms, they let the puppies loose in the family room. They sat on the floor with them, a roll of paper towels handy, and laughed themselves stupid trying to keep track of the little animals, which escaped under the sofa, down the hall, behind furniture. They kept grabbing the puppies, counting, losing count, temporarily misplacing one. Nate estimated they were just over four weeks old because they were starting to bark, and every time one did, he or she fell over. It was better than television for entertainment.

After the puppies were put away again, dinner eaten, dishes cleaned up, Annie made noises about leaving, and Nate talked her into sitting down in the family room. “It’s early,” he said. “Let’s just turn on the TV for a while.”

She plopped onto the couch. “Oh, God,” she said weakly. “Don’t let me get comfortable. I really have to go home. You have no idea how early I start my day.”

“Oh, really?” he asked. “Do you have eight whiny, hungry puppies in your laundry room? I start pretty early myself. Besides, I want you comfortable. This is such a great make-out couch.”

“How do you know that?” she asked.

He shrugged like it was a stupid question. “I’ve made out on it.”

“You said you’d be a gentleman!”

“Annie, you just have to try me out—I’m going to be very gentlemanly about it. Come on, don’t make me beg.”

She grinned at him. “Beg,” she said. “I think that’s what it’s going to take.”

He got an evil look in his eye and said, “Come here.” He snaked his fingers under her belt and tugged, pulling her down into the soft sofa cushions. “Let’s put a little flush on your cheeks.”

* * *

The next night Annie took eight lengths of ribbon in eight different colors to Nate’s house. They tied the ribbons around the puppies’ necks, so they could be identifiable. They weighed them, made a chart, had dinner—and Nathaniel was more than happy to put a flush on her cheeks again.

Night after night, she fed Ahab right after work so she’d be free to—ahem—help with the puppies. And talk and play and kiss. The kissing quickly became her favorite part. Greedy for that, she trusted Pam to hold the shop open two nights a week and a half day on Monday. In exchange for that, Annie insisted Pam take a little comp time to get her own Christmas baking and shopping done; she came in late a few days to compensate.

There was more contributing to that flush of happiness on Annie’s cheeks than just the kissing. Minor though it might seem, getting to know him when he had his shirt pulled out of his jeans and his boots off seemed so much more than casual. Of course her boots were off, also, and while they necked, their feet intertwined and they wiggled their toes. They wiggled against each other, too. It was delicious.

When they were feeding or cleaning up after puppies, preparing a meal together, they were also getting to know each other. Annie had never really thought about it before, but that was what courtship was all about—figuring out if you had enough in common after the spark of desire to sustain a real relationship.

Nathaniel had wanted to work with Thoroughbreds since he was a kid. He owned a couple of retired racehorses, good for riding. “One good stud can set you up for a great side business,” he said. The initial investment, however, could be major. “In the next year or two, I’m going to invest. See what I can do.”

“Why not show horses?” she asked.

“That’s good, too, but I like the races.”

“I love horses,” she said. “You knew that. But did you know this? I’ve competed in dressage events all over the state. When I was younger, of course. Eventually it became too expensive for me. The best training was never in my neighborhood and the biggest competitions, including for the Olympics, were out of my reach. But if I could ever do anything, I would teach beginner dressage. Maybe even intermediate.”

She told him she had thought about inviting him out to the farm to meet her parents and horses, but realized he already knew them. He knew them before he knew her, in fact. So she invited him to see her little Fortuna house and she made him dinner there. “I don’t have a great make-out couch, however,” she warned him.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “I needed that couch to get you going, but now that you’re all warmed up, we can do it anywhere. The floor, the chair, against the wall, the car...”

“I was so right about you. You’re just arrogant.”

He was also sentimental. Nathaniel was charmed by her two-bedroom house with a detached garage. The decorating was not prissy like a little dollhouse, but dominated by strong colors and leather furniture. The best part was, she had it completely decorated for Christmas, a garland over the hearth, lights up on the outside eaves. She had drizzled glitter on her huge poinsettia, had a Christmas cactus as big as a hydrangea bush, lots of what his mother had always called gewgaws. Ribbons, candles, potpourris, a Santa collection and, of course, a tree. A real tree, decorated to match the house—in burgundy, green, cream and gold. “And you’re not even spending Christmas at home,” he said.