Fair appreciated good coffee. She opened the freezer to grab a bag of ground beans. The others were whole-bean. She liked making coffee, even though she didn’t like drinking it. Once the coffee was put up, she plugged in the electric teapot and dropped a good old Lipton’s bag in a cup. She began mixing ingredients in a smallish Corning Ware bowl. Then she’d wake Fair.
Harry looked around her kitchen as though seeing it for the first time. Free of unnecessary adornment, her home reflected her in so many ways. She noticed the pegs by the door, coats hanging, a long bench with a lid underneath, boots within. A sturdy farmer’s table sat in the center of the room, and there was random-width heart pine on the floor, worn thin in places of high traffic by close to two hundred years of feet and paws.
A burst of love for her life, this kitchen, the farm, and, above all, her husband, friends, and animal friends, welled up. She didn’t know why she’d been hit. She felt lucky to be alive. She was determined to get to the bottom of it. She also decided to carry her .38.Thank God for the Second Amendment.
The teapot whistled and Harry shook her head at herself. Here she was trying to be quiet, but she’d forgotten about the whistle.
Fair, hearing the piercing note, awoke, feeling refreshed. Sleeping on the floor often made his back feel better. He smelled the coffee and rushed into the kitchen.
Harry laughed when her naked husband rushed into the kitchen, the floor cold on his bare feet. “Honey, put your robe on before you turn blue.”
He hugged her. “Are you all right?”
“Actually, I am, but my head stings. It’s pretty tender.”
He kissed her. “Thank God that’s all. I was afraid your skull had been cracked, but the X-rays and MRI proved what I have always known: you’re very hardheaded.”
She kissed him back. “Big surprise. Now go put your clothes on before you catch your death. Not that I don’t like seeing you in your birthday suit. You’re an impressive specimen, you know.”
“If you say so.” Fair had not one scrap of vanity, unusual for so well- built and handsome a man.
He finally did go put on slippers. His had fox masks embroidered on the toes. The terry- cloth robe felt good against his skin. By the time he returned to the kitchen—his teeth brushed, his hands washed, hair combed—breakfast was on the table.
Admiring the snowscape, they chatted. Fair avoided the obvious subject until he was on his second cup of coffee, she on her second cup of tea.
“Honey, how did you wind up on the mountain?”
The reason started to come back to her. “I came home from errands and Tucker and Mrs. Murphy were missing.
When they finally came back, Tucker dropped a packet with ten thousand dollars on the floor. Put on my coat and hat and followed Tucker, who was dying to lead me somewhere. Well, on and on we went, and finally, at the walnut grove, Tucker and Mrs. Murphy led me to the low rock outcropping. Fair, there was at least a hundred thousand dollars in a green toolbox! I couldn’t believe it. That’s all I remember.”
“Brother George hit her on the head with the butt of a pistol,” Tucker informed them.
“Don’t waste your breath,” Pewter noted.
Fair then told her his part of the story. Harry got out of her chair, hugged and kissed the two cats and the dog. She stayed on the floor for a while, Fair finally joining her to play with and praise the animals.
“Cold down here,” Fair remarked.
“You know, I’d like to finally build a fireplace in the kitchen. There’s an old covered- up flue where Grandma hooked up the wood- burning stove. Might still work.”
“Might not work, but we’ll try. I’ve been thinking that if we turned the screened- in porch into an extension of the kitchen, a big step-down fireplace could be built at the end. Fieldstone.”
“That would be beautiful.”
And behind it we could build another screened- in porch. It’s nice to sit there when the weather’s good. Pleasure without the mosquitoes.”
“It will be expensive.”
He shrugged. “Can’t take it with you.”
Given her close brush with eternity, she nodded. “Let me call Coop and thank her.” She rose. “Not that I can ever thank her or these guys.” She smiled down at Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and
Tucker. “Did Pewter really go all the way up there with you?”
“I did!” Pewter stood on her hind legs.
“Every step of the way. Poor Tucker, she fought her way up and down that mountain three times yesterday,” Fair remarked.
“Well, the first time the weather wasn’t bad. After that, well, I...” Tucker said no more.
“And, Mrs. Murphy, you stayed with me the whole time. I’d have a frostbitten nose without you.”
Murphy rubbed against her leg.
As Harry walked over to the old wall phone, Fair advised, “I know you’ll want to talk to Susan, but don’t. Not yet.”
“Why? I tell Susan everything. Well, almost everything.”
“Whoever hit you probably thinks you’re dead. Given this blizzard, it’s possible he thinks you haven’t been found. But it’s Christmas Eve, so we have two days, thanks to the weather and the holiday, where your disappearance not being in the news isn’t strange. If there isn’t something in the papers on Boxing Day”—Fair referred to the December 26 holiday that was celebrated by some people in the country—“then he’ll know you’re alive. And then”—he breathed deeply— “we can’t take any chances.”
“I’m not. I’m carrying my thirty- eight.”
He shook his head. “Not enough. Someone is going to be with you twenty- four hours a day.”
She knew enough not to argue, plus she felt a shiver of fear. “Not in bed with us, I hope.”
He came right back at her. “You know, we never tried that. Any candidates?”
She punched him on the arm and picked up the phone. She reached Cooper on her landline, so the connection was clear.
“Harry!” Cooper’s voice was jubilant. “You sound like yourself.”
“I am, except for the clunk on the head. Thank you. Thank you a thousand times over, and am I glad I got you a good Christmas present.”
Cooper laughed. “You could paint a rock. I’d be happy.”
“You say. But really, Coop, I don’t know how you two got me down from the walnut stand with the winds and the blowing snow. It’s still snowing.”
“Found out how strong I am, and Fair’s stronger. I’m just so glad you’re all right. Wow. What a gust. This thing isn’t over. It’s snowing hard now. My house is shaking.”
Harry, hearing and feeling it, too, replied, “That must have been a sixty-mile-an-hour gust.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Harry repeated to her what she’d told Fair as he washed the dishes. “I don’t remember anything after that.”
“If something should occur to you, call me. I’ll be over to help Fair with the horses, too.”
“I will.” Harry felt another blast, plus the cold air seeping through cracks here and there. “Got enough firewood?”
“Yep. I watched the Weather Channel. Doesn’t look like this will let up until late afternoon.”
“Hard on the store owners. It will keep everyone at home.”
Not quite.
24
Many families gather together on December 24, go to vespers for the traditional Christmas Eve service, return home for a late supper, and then open gifts. Others go to Christmas Eve service but wait until Christmas morning to open presents.
Despite the weather, the Reverend Jones held the St. Luke’s service, attended mostly by those who could walk through the snow or who drove 4×4 vehicles. Even though attendance was low, Herb enjoyed the special event. Two enormous poinsettias, flaming red, graced the altar. Red and white poinsettias filled the vestibule, too. The glow of candles added to the soft beauty of the night service.