Winter Star, page 3
The storm wore itself out shortly after midnight, leaving behind plenty of snow for building snowmen and making forts and having snowball fights.
Julie rolled over to check the clock on her cellphone. She found it hard to sleep, a million things running through her mind. There was plenty she and Hector needed to get done if they were going to pull off the perfect surprise and not exactly a lot time to do it in. Plus, the added complication of doing it all right under Belle’s nose.
The clock read ten minutes shy of four in the morning. Julie still had an hour before the agreed upon waking up time. So she rolled over again, her back to the nightstand, and stared at the peacefully sleeping form of her girlfriend. Belle’s hair was a bit of a tangled mess on the pillow, a halo of sorts, or at least that was how the books Belle read usually described them.
Julie smiled wistfully. They’d met in a bookstore, quite literally bumping into each other and dropping books upon the floor. She’d been there to purchase a few new volumes of manga, an obsession she just couldn’t let go, and Belle’s picks turned out to be a mixture of romance and cozy mysteries. Who knew in that instance that two hearts were about to find each other and her world would be changed forever?
Belle sighed in her sleep, burrowing under the blanket. Julie resisted the urge to reach out to her, to touch her, to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. She loved moments like these, when she could study Belle without being interrupted, memorizing the curve of her jaw and how she occasionally twitched her nose while she slept. She considered drawing Belle into her embrace. Snuggling would have been pleasant, but altogether impractical if she wanted to sneak away in a little while.
Her eyelids began to droop, slumber whispering at her and tugging her back into its depths. Julie slowly gave in, praying she would hear the subtle vibration of her phone, having otherwise silenced any alarms. As she drifted off, her thoughts circled around Belle and how loving her had taught Julie the true meaning of love and desire.
* * * *
When next she woke it was still dark, only the faint touch of moonlight from the pale sliver in the sky reaching into the room. Belle lay curled in the fetal position with her back to Julie. A quick peek at her phone and Julie silently cursed. She was a half an hour behind schedule. Had Hector woken?
Only one way to find out.
Now came the challenging part, slipping out of bed without waking her beloved. Slowly, Julie inched her way to the very edge of the bed. She stuck her left leg out, toes touching the carpet. Next her arm, almost whacking her elbow on the nightstand. When Belle snorted, Julie froze, her heart hammering away in her chest. Belle remained asleep.
Julie scrunched up her eyes, gritting her teeth. Perhaps the best method was much like tearing off a bandage. Do it in one quick move. Julie went for it, slithering out from under the covers and on to the floor, making as little noise as possible. For a moment or two she sat there, knees bent, hands out behind her, listening to see if her departure was enough to wake Belle. Silence, however, maintained its hold on the room.
She did an arm pump in celebration.
Then, on hands and knees, she crawled to the bedroom door. Back home at their apartment, Belle liked to sleep with the door closed, but here it either didn’t matter or she’d been too tired to care. The gaping entryway nagged at Julie, prompting her to stop and look back over her shoulder.
When she had told Belle they were coming here, she’d caught a glimmer of the holiday spirit in Belle’s eyes, especially after they’d finished watching Sir Patrick Stewart trudge about with three ghosts. That light had dimmed a little when Julie had then mentioned Hector would be joining them. He was the quintessential third wheel, and she hated to bring him along, technically speaking, but she needed his help and prayed that when all was said and done Belle realized it.
Packing their bags and grabbing one of the cookie containers, the drive here, and even over dinner last night, Belle had been quiet. Something was bothering her, and Julie wondered if it was all to do with Hector’s presence.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. The goal in bringing Belle home for one of her favorite holidays was to brighten her mood and help ease the pain of being ditched by her parents. Again. Tomorrow everything would be different, and if the roads were sufficiently clear, Hector would be on his way out.
In the hall, Julie stood, grasping the doorknob and pulling the door closed, stopping just short of latching it. At this point she feared any sound might blow their cover. In the city it was easier to sneak around, thanks to the occasional passing car or someone playing their music or TV too loud. Out here the quiet night might be broken up by the whine of the wind or an owl’s forlorn call.
Upon reaching the room they’d parked Hector in, Julie raised her hand to knock, not the sort to barge in. Besides, what if he slept nude? There were some sights she didn’t care to see. She never got the chance to knock; the door yanked open.
“It’s about time,” Hector whispered, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her into his room. He checked the hall, then closed the door. A lamp radiated, casting unfamiliar shadows around the room. “I thought you forgot. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to be up this early?”
“Sorry.” Julie kept her voice low. “At least I got away without waking her. How’s the gift?”
“See for yourself,” Hector replied, pointing to the far side of the bed. “You’ll have to find a way to keep her out of here today, or she’s likely to stumble on it.”
“That’ll ruin the surprise.”
Julie tiptoed to the end of the bed and peered around the corner. For the moment, her surprise remained a secret, tucked away beside Hector’s bed out of sight. A blanket covered most of it.
“Only part of it.”
“Yeah, the most important part.” She turned to Hector, who wore a pair of lounge pants and little else, his ginger hair wild like he’d gotten caught in the wind. He looked so innocent and unassuming, like a big ole teddy bear. How had she gotten so lucky to not only have the bestest friend a girl could ask for, but also a woman who loved her to pieces? She crossed the room to give him a hug.
“Hey, what’s this for? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Being awesomely you,” she replied. Julie stepped back, tugging at the hem of her pajama shirt. She stepped back, shifting her gaze to the window.
Hector tilted his head slightly in the perfect mimic of a dog. “Something on your mind?”
Did she tell him about Belle? She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but the idea of keeping such a thing from him, it bothered her. Still, she wanted the two most important people in her life to get along and felt any awkwardness needed to be addressed. Not that the expected Belle to be rude to Hector. It wasn’t her style. “Look, I think there’s something you should know.”
Hector arched a brow. “Uh oh, I know that tone. It’s your please-don’t-be-mad voice. What’s up?”
“I think Belle is upset you’re here,” she said.
“Oh.” He averted his gaze, deflating a little. “Um. Okay.”
Julie was quick to put a hand on his arm. “She’ll understand after today, so don’t worry about it.”
Much to her surprise, Hector grinned, flashing his pearly whites. “Worry? Who says I’m worried? This just means I’ll have to think of a little gift all my own to give her.”
Julie blinked. Lucky. I’m truly the luckiest gal in the world.
“Now, let’s get cracking. We’re wasting daylight,” he declared.
“The sun’s not up.”
“You know what I mean,” he brushed off her remark. “So where do we begin?”
Chapter 6
An empty bed greeted Belle when she finally woke. Seeing the other side barren swiftly brought back all the doubts from yesterday. She lay there, staring at the ceiling of the guest room, which actually used to be her older sister Prue’s room, and tried to think of a reason for Julie to be gone. One that didn’t involve her having an affair with Hector.
Belle’s stomach knotted.
Finding love, oh, it was glorious. Even just the idea that someone as spectacular, warm, and caring as Julie wanted her, it brightened her days. Growing up on the farm with an older sister, things hadn’t exactly been easy, especially when her sister had started dating. She had stopped riding and spending time with Belle, opting instead to spend hours at her little vanity doing up her hair and makeup to go out with whichever boyfriend of the week she was on.
Belle never followed in her footsteps.
And she often wondered if her lifestyle upset her parents. That was not to say they weren’t accepting of Julie and happy to welcome her into their home…
Get off the pity train. You’re back home. There’s fresh snow to be played in. Tomorrow is St. Nick’s Day. And is that French toast I smell? Belle inhaled the tantalizing aroma, letting it pull her from bed. She made her way along the hall, pausing momentarily at the closed door of Hector’s sleeping quarters. Had she heard a whimper come from within? Was Hector having a nightmare? As the saying goes, let sleeping dogs lie. This is my chance for some alone time with my lady.
Belle continued downstairs, trailing her hand along the banister. By now it was usually wrapped in white lights and topped with fake evergreen. It wasn’t the only part of the stairs lacking its traditional holiday cheer. Mom used to display their grandmother’s nutcracker collection on the stairs, the merry soldiers set up in little clusters on each step. She paused on the last step, sighing.
“What’s wrong, Belle?” Julie popped out of the kitchen. She wore Christmas skull pajamas, a gift from Belle. They were freckled with flour.
“It’s silly.”
“Pish-posh,” said Julie. She made her way to the stairs. “Come on now, how long have we been together? I know when something real is bothering you.”
“Maybe.”
“Come on, out with it.”
Belle let her gaze travel around what she could see of the first floor, the original layout of the farmhouse very much intact; her mother hated the idea of open floor plans. But the house was stark and absolutely nothing like the wonderland she remembered growing up.
“I guess I’m just feeling nostalgic for the old days.” She descended the last step. She tried to chuckle and shrug it off, to dismiss her sadness. “Twenty-three is a little young to be having a midlife crisis.”
Julie hooked her arm through Belle’s, holding her hand, and led her in the direction of the kitchen. “You have happy family memories of the holidays. It’s okay to miss those times. When I came last Christmas, I’d never seen such a sight, except for maybe in a movie. You know how my family is. They don’t bother with all of this, the lights, the food, the gifts. I don’t even think I got a card from them last year.”
This time Belle’s smile was genuine. “Yeah, my folks do love to decorate. Remind me to bring you for the Fourth of July.” If we’re still together.
They paused outside the kitchen. Definitely French toast. And bacon. Belle’s stomach growled.
“Oh, I can’t wait,” enthused Julie. “Do they make everything red, white, and blue?”
A memory from her tenth year brought forth giggles, chasing away the clouds in her mind. She nodded. “My mom even once got it in her head that it might be fun to spray paint the sheep.”
“How did that go?”
“Dad must have chased them for hours. In the end they wound up with spots and streaks and looked nothing like I’m sure Mom hoped they would.”
“See, with a childhood like yours, I’d be feeling exactly like you right now,” Julie said. By now she’d led Belle right through the kitchen and to the table where she pulled out a chair for her. “All we did on the Fourth was light off fireworks in the driveway and barbecue. That’s the most my dad was willing to do for any holiday.”
“This looks and smells scrumptious.”
Occupying a plate set on the middle of the table was a stack of French toast, each piece delicately sprinkled with powdered sugar. She must have told Julie about her mother’s way of celebrating the first decent snowfall. Accompanying the aromatic bread was bacon and even blueberry muffin tops. How long had Julie been awake?
Belle filled her plate with a bit of everything, except for the muffin tops, one of which she set on a napkin. She wasn’t sure she wanted to try them smothered in syrup like the rest of her breakfast. They tucked into their meal. Belle moaned with the first bite.
“You really should consider opening your own place,” she said, not for the first time. “Even if it’s just a food truck.”
“Now that’s an idea I can get behind.”
They ate in silence for a short period. Belle had consumed a piece of French toast and two slices of bacon before finally asking a question she dreaded.
“Where’s Hector? Isn’t he going to join us?”
Julie shrugged. She paused with a forkful of French toast hovering over her plate, syrup dripping. “I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer. I guess he wants to sleep in. He’s been working hard on that start-up of his, you know, along with the hours of his day job. I think this little break is good for him. I’ll put a plate in the oven for him when we’re done.”
“Okay.”
“By the way, I’ve given it some thought.” Julie dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
Here it comes. Belle began to rethink her decision to indulge in the delicious food, her stomach twisting.
Their eyes met. “I think since we’re here and we have all this lovely new snow, we should go for a ride. What do you think?”
“A ride?” Belle echoed, barely believing her ears. “You want to go for a ride?”
“Sure. I bet it’s beautiful out on that trail you took me on in the spring.” She stood, gathering her dishes. “Besides, it’s not like we have anywhere to be or any plans set in stone. So what do you say?”
“Just the two of us?”
“Of course.”
“I say let me change and feed the critters and I’m all yours.” Belle practically jumped out of her chair and raced up the stairs. In quick passing she noticed Hector’s door still closed. Let it stay that way.
* * * *
A short while later, sporting a pair of jeans under which she wore fleece-lined tights and a hoodie over a long-sleeve shirt, Belle made her way to the barn. It pleased her to see it had weathered the storm well, though the same could not be said for a tree along the fence line; definitely the source of the cracking she heard.
“Morning, everybody,” she called upon getting the door open. Thanks to the direction of the wind she was spared having to shovel away a drift to gain access. Her greeting was heartedly returned with a sweet cacophony of neighs and quacks and bleats and moos. “Sounds like everyone slept well. I promise chow is on the way. Then we’ll see if I can get you some fresh air.”
Feeding the various critters that called the farm home was one of Belle’s chores growing up and easily her favorite. Slipping back into her old role, she went from stall to stall checking on the occupants and fishing out the various feeds. Most of them got hay, but the horses also got a cup or two of grain and the birds got a seed mixture. When Belle was satisfied everyone had full bellies, she locked the feed room and turned her focus to the pasture door.
The barn was set up in a fashion that allowed the animals to be immediately at pasture when the door was opened. Two gates inside kept most of the space from being accessed while providing convenient shelter that they could come and go from as they pleased. Since the oddly put together herd members were accustomed to each other, they all went out in the same field. It made chore time a breeze.
“Cross your hooves, guys and gals,” Belle said. “I’m going to try the door.” By now she’d let everyone but her pony and one of the horses out into the common area.
“How’s it going in here?” Julie asked, sauntering in. Her outfit almost mirrored Belle’s, with the exception that she’d donned a coat.
“Just about to let them out. If the door isn’t frozen.”
For good measure, Belle kicked along the length of the door’s bottom. Then, much like last night, she grabbed the handle and tugged. It moved somewhat jerkily, and bits of snow fell in. As soon as it was wide enough, the three moseyed out, making a suitable path for the goats and sheep and the last two horses brought up the rear. The farm’s sole donkey and the various fowl chose to remain inside.
Pinecone whinnied, disappointed in being left in his stall. The outcry was enough to stir Davenport, her sister’s old horse. Belle could have easily gone for the younger mounts, but nostalgia won out. Besides, a couple of steady eddies benefited both of them. Julie hadn’t ever been on a horse before the spring, and Belle very rarely got around to riding—there wasn’t much opportunity for it in the city.
In short order they got the horses ready to go.
“He’s so fuzzy,” Julie giggled, running her hand along Pinecone’s neck. “And soft.”
“Yeah, I’m partial to them in their winter woolies.”
“I can certainly see why.”
With the horses tacked, Belle led the way out of the barn. Her gaze flickered to the farmhouse. She adjusted her stirrups, trying to ignore the question that popped into her head. Another check of the girth to make sure it was snug. She repeated the process with Pinecone for Julie.
Belle thought she saw a curtain move in an upstairs window. “What about Hector?” she finally asked. “Will he worry when he wakes to find us gone?”
Julie shook her head. “He’s a big boy, he’ll manage. Also, I left him a note taped to the oven. I figure he’ll see it when he goes for the food.” Julie made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Shall we be on our way?”
Chapter 7
Belle rode out in front, Davenport plowing through the snow and making it easier for Julie to follow on Pinecone. Between the creak of saddle leather and the branches glistening with winter’s touch, Belle relaxed, finally feeling a sense of peace. All her doubts and worries slipped away and she lost herself in the moment, following the rhythmic motion of her mount. She even closed her eyes, trusting Davenport.
