Chapter 15 Nora
NORA
Nora sat between the children in bed that night, waiting for John-John to select a book.
She was pretty sure it would be Farmer Bear’s Christmas again, but the little guy sometimes liked to consider each of the titles on his bedside table before making things official.
For now, she was happy soaking in the warmth of the children tucked in beside her on a cold winter night, and the blessed silence of the country house.
“Today was nice,” Pixie said, leaning against Nora’s shoulder.
“Yes,” Nora agreed. “I’ll bet you’re good and tired too, after all our adventures.”
“I like having adventures,” Pixie said. “I like the farm.”
“Me too,” Nora told her, feeling a tug at her heart.
It was going to be next to impossible to leave this wonderful place when the holidays were over. She tried to comfort herself with the fact that they would at least have plenty of happy memories to bring with them back to the city.
“The kittens don’t have a mama,” John-John said suddenly, abandoning his books to turn to Nora.
“No,” she agreed. “They don’t.”
“We’ll take care of them,” Pixie told her brother. But there was the tiniest lilt to her voice, almost like she was asking a question.
“Of course we will,” Nora told them firmly, trying not to let her heart break. “Did you see how happy they were after their meal and their nap, when they were exploring the house?”
“Taking care of kittens is a lot of work,” Pixie said, her voice solemn.
“It is,” Nora agreed carefully, knowing that some part of this sweet little girl might be talking about a lot more than kittens. “But we love them, so we don’t mind a bit, right?”
“They climbed my leg,” John-John exclaimed, melting into giggles.
“They wanted your snack,” Pixie told him.
“Or they were feeling curious about you,” Nora said. “I think they know you’re going to be looking after them now, and they want to know everything about you.”
“Kittens are very curious,” Pixie said, echoing something River had mentioned earlier when one of their tiny charges climbed into his boot.
“They sure are,” Nora told her.
“Where is their mama?” John-John wanted to know.
“We just don’t know,” Nora told him truthfully. “River put some nice, smelly tuna fish out on the back steps tonight. If she’s nearby, we’re hoping she comes to investigate and realizes her babies are here.”
“She might be dead,” Pixie said quietly.
And there it was.
John-John’s hand latched onto Nora’s knee, and she hugged both kids close. They held each other for a long time, not saying a word.
They’re so young to have these deep feelings.
One day, this earth-shattering experience might make them more compassionate, thoughtful adults than most. But right now, that seemed like a thin reward. No child should have to experience the loss of their only parent.
And the fact that they worried out loud about whether the kittens would be taken care of told her everything she needed to know about how vulnerable they felt for themselves.
Nora tried every day to make sure they knew how much she loved and treasured them. But only time would give them the real assurance every child deserved.
“I’m ready to choose my book now,” John-John said suddenly, letting go of his iron grip on Nora’s leg to grab Farmer Bear’s Christmas.
As she read the beloved book aloud, Nora reminded herself that she was doing the most important work in the world by providing these children with a stable, loving home.
It made her think again about River, and that look in his eyes.
I can’t even entertain the idea. They can’t have people in and out of their lives. Better to keep it a friendship.
As the kids exclaimed over Farmer Bear’s tree, she focused her heart on their smiles and vowed not to let anything put their fragile hearts at risk.
They finished their story with smiles and laughter, and because John-John was still awake, they whispered for a long time about the last two things on their list.
“We can make a snow bear anytime,” Pixie said.
“Maybe tomorrow, then,” Nora told her.
“What about singing Christmas carols to the neighbors?” John-John asked.
“I’ll ask River about it tonight,” she told them.
She left the two of them whispering to each other about which carol they wanted to sing first.
Heading downstairs, she reminded herself that she wasn’t going to lose herself in River’s dark eyes anymore, or wonder what he was thinking when his handsome face took on that strange expression.
“Hi,” she said, as she headed into the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet.
“I… think I need to make an early night of it tonight,” she told him softly.
He paused, and she could feel his disappointment like it was a living thing between them.
I’ll miss it too, she wished she could tell him. I wish things were different.
But being with River would be complicated no matter the circumstances. And risking the kids’ delicate sense of equilibrium couldn’t even be on the table.
“Sounds like a good idea,” he said, turning to her with a gentle smile that didn’t match the intense flash of his eyes. “Any ideas on what everyone would like to do tomorrow?”
“Well, we’ll spend lots of time with our new little friends, of course,” she said, moving to the crate where the kittens slept in a pile, looking content, thank goodness. “And they were hoping to sing Christmas carols to the neighbors.”
“The Troyers are away for the winter,” River said thoughtfully. “But you know what? I can do the kids one better. Why don’t we take them into town, and they can sing to the folks at the veterans center and Carla’s Place?”
“What’s Carla’s Place?” Nora asked.
“It used to be a house, but now it’s sort of a hangout for the older folks in Trinity Falls,” he explained. “They would love to see the kids.”
“That sounds great,” Nora told him. “Do you think these guys will be okay down here, or should I bring them up to my room?”
“I’ll check on them when I go for the horses,” River said. “And if their mama comes back, it’s better if I can get to them easily.”
“Still no sign of her?” Nora asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “Kids are taking it hard, huh?”
“Can you blame them?” she asked him.
“Not at all,” he said, shaking his head.
She felt an urge to sit at the table and talk and cry with him, show him all that was in her heart—her fears and hopes for the kids, and her worries about whether they would ever feel safe.
But she had made herself a promise, and she had to see it through.
“Well, I guess I’ll head up to bed,” she told him. “If the kittens need me, I’m sure they will let me know.”
He nodded to her, and she headed up the stairs.
“You’re a good woman, Nora Young,” he said, just as she turned at the landing.
He knows exactly why I’m not staying down there, she thought to herself with relief.
It was a lonely feeling to go to bed without the cozy chat she had grown accustomed to. But as she tossed and turned and tried to ease herself to sleep, his words echoed comfortingly in her head.