Chapter 8 River
RIVER
Afew hours later, River stood in the middle of his own backyard, arms and back aching from trying to use a manual post hole digger, and feeling despondent.
He had surprised the kids by stopping for a pizza from Mario’s in town after dropping off the supplies in the truck. The cab had been filled with the rich scent of cheese and pepperoni on the drive home, and they were all ravenous by the time they got back to the farm.
He’d had such a good feeling, looking around the table as everyone enjoyed their pizza feast. It made him feel like a provider, and he found the idea very satisfying.
But after enjoying their delicious treat and bundling up again to set up the bird feeder, River was afraid he was going to have to disappoint them after all.
“I’m so sorry, guys,” he said. “The ground is really frozen. We can’t set the post right now.”
All the supplies were laid out on the back porch. It was such a shame he hadn’t thought about this aspect of the project.
How am I going to make it in farming if I literally didn’t think about the land?
“That’s okay,” John-John said kindly. “You did your best.”
“Maybe we can put our bird feeder on the porch,” River told him. “Then when the spring thaw comes, I can set the post and move it to the yard, like in your book.”
“Wait,” Pixie said. “Wait, wait, wait!”
River turned to the little girl, who was jumping up and down in place, a look of awe on her face.
“What is it?” River asked her.
“Do you have any peanut butter?” she asked, her eyebrows leaping up toward her hairline.
“Sure,” he told her. “Would you like a snack?”
He was pretty surprised. She had already eaten an impressive amount of pizza for such a tiny person.
“No,” she told him. “I mean, no, thank you. Do you have string?”
“Yes,” he told her. “There’s some in the basement.”
“Can we pick pinecones off that tree?” she asked, pointing to the big evergreen behind the house.
“Sure,” he told her, finally realizing what she was leading up to.
“We can make a bird feeder,” she announced excitedly. “I learned how in preschool.”
Suddenly, Nora was beaming and Pixie was giving her a high-five.
River could only smile at the sight. He hadn’t thought of pinecone bird feeders in forever. Pixie sure was one bright kid.
“What are you talking about?” John-John demanded suddenly.
“First, you tie a string to a pinecone,” Pixie told him. “Then you paint the pinecone with peanut butter. Then, you roll it in a plate full of birdseed. Then, you tie the string to something, and the birds come and eat the seeds.”
“Oh,” John-John said. “Good idea, Pixie.”
“I learned how to do it in preschool,” she told him. “We all made them.”
“This sounds great to me,” Nora said, turning to River with a smile. “What do you think?”
“It’s obviously a fantastic idea,” River said. “Let’s do it.”
He gathered up the supplies for the bigger project and carried them out to the garage to put aside for later, while Nora and the kids headed off to select pinecones from the big tree.
By the time he was finished and he joined them inside, the kids were washing their hands at the kitchen sink while Nora watched over them fondly. “White Christmas” was playing on the radio.
“I hope you don’t mind that we turned on some music,” Nora said, turning to him.
Don’t notice her pink cheeks or her sparkling blue eyes. Don’t notice her gentle smile or the way her hair slides over her shoulder when she turns back to look at the kids.
“Not at all,” he told her, trying his best to ignore his thundering heart.
Maybe it was the time he’d spent away in dangerous circumstances that made him respond this way to seeing a woman in his home, caring for children, filling the house with music and happiness.
They’re not mine, he tried to tell himself. She’s not mine.
But his heart kept pounding like a runaway stallion.
“Do you have a newspaper we can spread on the kitchen table?” Nora asked. “This might get a little messy.”
“Sure,” he told her, heading to the living room to grab yesterday’s paper from beside his favorite chair.
He came back to the kitchen and handed it to her before grabbing the peanut butter out of the cupboard as well as two plates and two butter knives. But when he brought them over to the table, he saw that they had brought in four pinecones.
“The kids thought we might like to make some too,” Nora said, her eyes twinkling.
He was surprised at the little sparkle of excitement he felt at joining the kids in their fun task.
It’s the little things, his mom had always said. He figured she was right about that.
He grabbed two more knives and jogged down the basement steps to find the twine.
When he got back up, Nora had everything organized.
“Jingle Bells” came on the radio as he pulled out his pocketknife and set about cutting off lengths of twine.
Nora took the first one and showed the kids how she was making a slipknot to tighten around the top of the cone.
She let them try to do their own for a few minutes, but ended up doing John-John’s for him after he just couldn’t get it to work.
Pixie had better luck, and her little brother cheered for her when she held her string up triumphantly.
River prepared one for himself, and then they all started spreading peanut butter onto the pinecones. By the time they were all rolled in birdseed, each one looked completely different.
Nora had carefully painted each bit of her pinecone so that the seeded parts stood out.
Pixie put a thin, mostly even layer of peanut butter on hers so that the whole thing looked uniform, and River had done kind of the same but with a thicker layer of peanut butter.
John-John’s peanut butter was applied in generous lumps, making his pinecone look bigger than anyone else’s.
“I think they’re gonna like that,” he said to himself in satisfaction as he looked down at the messy concoction in front of him.
“They sure are,” River told him. “Great job.”
Everyone bundled up again and headed out, with River grabbing the small ladder from the garage.
“We could hang them back up on the tree,” he told the kids.
“Or we could hang them from these hooks on the porch ceiling. They’re supposed to be for hanging plants, but I don’t have any plants yet, and it’s too cold anyway.
If we put the feeders here, then you can see them from the bench in the kitchen. ”
“Yes,” Pixie said excitedly. “Put them there, then we can watch the birds up close from inside.”
River turned to John-John, and he nodded his little head in agreement, looking too pleased to speak.
Though he didn’t really need the ladder, River sensed that the kids were enjoying the sense of drama it added, so he carefully set it up and tested it, then asked Nora to hold the other side.
“That’s called spotting,” he told the children in his most instructional voice. “Ladders can be dangerous. So, you never climb a ladder without a grown-up, and you always make sure it’s set up in a safe place where it won’t tip over.”
They looked up at him, nodding their heads, eyes serious, and he felt another wave of satisfaction.
He’d been in charge of men in the service, of course. But it hadn’t felt like this. The kids were listening to him not because it was their job, but because they liked him and thought he had something worthwhile to share.
They’re not mine, he reminded himself again.
And again, his heart raced on, unconcerned with this information.
When the pinecone bird feeders were all hung up and everyone agreed that the placement was just right, he got off the ladder for the last time, and they all stepped back to admire their handiwork.
“We’re gonna have so many birds,” Pixie said, her eyes shining.
“Will they fight over the food?” John-John asked, suddenly looking worried.
“Of course not,” Nora told him. “We have four bird feeders. So there will be plenty for everyone.”
He scampered over and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she smiled down at him as she hugged him back. She took the kids inside while River brought the ladder back to the garage.
When he got back inside, their coats were hung up and their boots were by the back door. He took off his own things and headed into the kitchen to find the children already curled up on the bench, looking out the window at their handiwork.
“We might have to wait a while,” Pixie said softly.
“Would you like some hot cocoa while you wait?” River offered.
That idea was met with smiles, so he put the kettle on and got out four mugs and the tin of cocoa powder. By the time he placed the kids’ mugs on the table, John-John was leaning his head against his sister’s shoulder sleepily.
River smiled at the sight of the two of them.
“I’m going to start some dinner for us,” he told Nora after a moment.
“I’ll help,” she said with a big enough smile that he knew she really wanted to pitch in.
“Okay,” he said heading over to the fridge. “I thought I would just make some soup. I’ve got leftover chicken my mom brought over, and vegetables, and a nice loaf of bread from the bakery in town.”
“Perfect,” she said. “The kids will love that.”
He grabbed the chicken from the fridge while she grabbed a knife and cutting board.
“Okay for me to be on veggie duty?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he told her, handing over carrots and celery from the fridge. “Potatoes and onions are on the counter.”
They worked in silence for a bit. He dug out some spices, and once she had some onions diced up, he threw them in the pan with some butter. He added the chicken, and the kitchen instantly smelled incredible.
The kids were still curled up on the bench, sipping their chocolate and waiting patiently for birds to visit.
Please let some come, they’re so excited about this…
He stole a look over at Nora. She was peeling potatoes with a tiny smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. She looked content, without a trace of the worry that seemed to dull her eyes when he’d first seen her at the condo yesterday.
She glanced up from her work and caught him looking.
He cleared his throat and began to turn away, pretty sure he’d been staring like a lovesick teenager.
“Thank you,” she said softly, stopping him in his tracks. “This is such a special visit.”
“For me too,” he managed, meaning it.
She glanced over at the kids. Pixie was murmuring something to John-John as they gazed out the window.
“This is going to be their first Christmas without their mom,” Nora said softly. “Moments like this are really important.”
River nodded, moved. He hadn’t really thought of that aspect.
“I would give them a whole storybook Christmas, if I could,” she said, gazing at the children with a fond smile.
“Why don’t we?” he heard himself say.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes flicking back to his.
“Stay here for the holidays,” he said. “We’ll do every single thing in that book of theirs.”
He knew his offer was a long shot, but he could see the longing in her eyes, the need to say yes, before the word even crossed her lips.
“Really?” she whispered instead. “We’re kind of… a lot to have around.”
“I like having a lot around,” he murmured, stepping closer without thinking about it. “It feels right to me.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes widening slightly, as if she could read his mind and know that he didn’t just mean that he liked doing activities with the kids, or having a house that wasn’t half empty all the time.
His eyes went to her lips of their own accord, and he practically shook with the need to pull her close and kiss her, to show her that she was no one’s burden, that she was everything to him.
“A bird,” Pixie cried out suddenly. “There’s a bird!”
Nora turned instantly, but not before River caught the expression of shame on her face.
Is she ashamed that I wanted to kiss her? Does she think I want to take advantage?
Or could she be feeling ashamed because she wanted to kiss me too?
There was no time to think about it, because suddenly the porch was aflutter with chickadees and the children were squealing with joy at the sight of the sweet little birds feasting on their creations.