9. Mia
Ihadn’t wanted to do the usual Sunday night dinner this week at my parents’ place, but canceling would have led to more trouble than it was worth. It was just easier to go than avoid it—or so I thought.
After finishing with tree decorating and dinner, my sister and her husband left with the kids around eight, and I tried to go shortly after, but my mother keeps me well into the night. She’d been holding off peppering me with questions about Mason until my sister was gone, presumably to spare me the embarrassment. It didn’t work.
I’m mortified when she brings it up, although I should have seen it coming.
“Christian’s mom tells me you have been spending a lot of time with that young man who’s opening the restaurant,” Mom says coyly. “I’d like to meet him.”
I gape at her, the dishrag falling from my hand to the countertop in her huge farmhouse kitchen. Quickly, I reclaim my composure, swallowing the thickness in my throat. I’ve been doing my best to forget about Mason, and here is Mom, blowing the conversation wide open.
“He’s opening his restaurant soon,” I reply stiffly, wishing Christian’s mother had not been gossiping. But that’s like wishing birds didn’t fly south for the winter. “It’s called Wild Sage. I think the plan is to open a couple of days before Christmas, so you’ll have your chance.”
“Isn’t that ambitious of him!” my mom cries, sounding pleased. “Although to give up a career as a lawyer to be a chef… that’s quite a leap, isn’t it?”
A spark of defensiveness rushes through me. “We should all be so brave to follow our passions,” I mutter, more to myself than them.
“Are you getting serious with him?” my dad wants to know, and I groan loudly, noting how late it’s getting.
“Guys, I have school tomorrow,” I beg them both. “Can we pick this up another time?”
“We’re just curious about this man,” Dad presses and continues to harangue me for another hour before I finally make my escape and head out of their ranch house on the outskirts of Spruce Crossing.
But when I get in my car, I can’t drive, my insides quivering unhappily as I wonder where Mason is and what he’s doing in that moment. The urge to text him overwhelms me, but I fight it back.
It’s not the right time, not for him or me. We weren’t brought together through interest but through circumstance, anyway. The man needs to focus on his plans, and I need to stay out of his way until he’s on solid ground. Then maybe I can approach him again.
I look up and see the porch light flick on, my cue to get moving, and I back out before my dad can come out and see what’s keeping me in the driveway.
The lighting is poor down these roads, and the light snow isn’t helping matters, despite the high beams flooding the back roads leading the way out of the mountains and back toward Spruce Crossing.
At this time of night, I need to be cautious of critters roaming the wild, the nocturnal beasts scavenging in the snow for a peaceful meal. The last thing I need to chance upon is a deer or bear in these backwoods.
As I take a slow turn toward the main road, a low, disbelieving moan falls from my lips.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I grunt, throwing my hands up as I bring the Subaru to a complete stop.
A herd of wayward cows flocks the entire roadway, the outline of Spruce Crossing just ahead and over the hill. I check my rearview, considering backing up and going down another way, but judging by the size of the group, I guess the herd will be on its way before I make it back around. I decide to wait it out, rolling my eyes up toward the moon. It’s going to be a very trying day at school tomorrow.
Groaning again, I reach for my phone and check the time. Twelve-thirty.
Just as I throw the cell back down on the passenger seat, a notification chimes.
Mason: Hey! Are you awake?
My heart jumps as I read the text. He’s been on my mind constantly, even though I’ve tried to walk away from him.
With trembling fingers, I answer.
Me: You’re not going to believe where I am right now.
I watch as the message bubbles form.
Mason: Where?
Me: Stuck in a cow traffic jam.
A laughing face emoji follows my response, and the phone rings. I inhale and prepare myself to hear his voice.
“Hello?” I answer through the car speaker.
“I’m not accusing you of lying,” Mason says lightly. “But two cow traffic jams in the span of a few weeks seem excessive for a place that doesn’t have them often—according to you.”
“I think you’re the common denominator here,” I quip back. “Before you came along, I could count on one hand how many times this has happened.”
We both chuckle.
“Are you all right? Where are you?” Mason asks.
“Just leaving my parents’ house now. I’m on Riverbend Land, and I can see downtown from where I’m sitting, but…” My shoulders raise, even though I know Mason can’t see me. “Hopefully, they’ll move along soon.”
“Hey, can I call you back?” Mason asks. “I have to do something. It will only take about ten minutes.”
“Yeah, no problem. Talk to you soon.” My stomach drops, and I don’t expect him to call back. But to my surprise, ten minutes later, Mason rings again. “Hello,” I answer.
“Still stuck in the traffic jam?” he asks.
“Yep.”
“Isn’t it past their cow bedtime?”
“I didn’t ask,” I reply dryly. “But I hope they don’t fall asleep here.”
He chuckles again. There’s a small silence between us, and I purse my lips. “I guess it’s stuff like this that makes you miss the big city, huh?” I blurt out.
“What?” Mason’s laugh is full of confusion. “Miss it? I don’t miss the city. Not in the least.”
My eyes trail back toward the lingering bovines, taking their time as they cross in front of me, a flutter of hopefulness igniting in my chest. “No?”
“Not even a little bit,” he answers adamantly. “I couldn’t get out of Spokane fast enough, Mia. The noise, the pollution, the traffic—albeit not cow traffic, but still…”
I grin, bowing my head.
“That’s why I wanted to come and open a restaurant out here,” he continues. “It’s so far removed from all that bustle, from all that chaos. Have you looked around you lately?”
My head swivels to the right where the mountain ranges sit, the moonlight illuminating the tops, and I again remember how lucky we are to live where we do. “Yes,” I whisper. “I have.”
“Then you get it.”
One cow stops directly in front of me and moos loudly, startling me. I yelp and snicker.
“What was that?” Mason demands. “Are you all right?”
“The cows aren’t sleeping.”
“I know.”
Confused, I sit up. “You know? How do you know?”
Through the thick of the herd and the dancing snowflakes, lights flash. “Is that you?!”
“Oh, good. I have the right cow traffic jam,” he teases as I jump out of the driver’s seat and rush toward the herd. Some of the cows moo at me, but I ignore them, fighting my way through their bodies to the other side of the road.
Mason stands in front of his Mercedes, grinning with his phone in his hand. I promptly hang up and rush forward, shaking my head in disbelief.
“What are you doing here?!” I gasp, shocked to see him.
He shrugs as I approach and cocks his head. “I guess I wanted to see this for myself,” he replies weakly. “Or maybe I just needed to see you.”
My heart melts at the confession, and I lower my head, drawing closer.
“This is kind of our thing now, isn’t it?” he replies as we close the distance between us. The contrast of snow against his dark hair is spectacular in the moonlight, his inky eyes boring into mine as if he can read the secrets of my soul with every blink.
“We have a thing?” I ask in a small voice.
“I think we have a bunch of things,” he says. “Or at least I hope we do.” His bare hand reaches up to stroke my cheek, and a shiver runs down my spine. “Why have you been avoiding me lately? What did I do wrong, Mia?”
Shame shoots through me. “You did nothing wrong,” I promise him. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it about? We were doing so well, working together, getting the restaurant together, and then you just disappeared on me. I feel stuck without you, Mia.”
“Before you can disappear on me,” I say before I can stop myself.
His eyes widen in confusion. “I’m not going anywhere, and I never was. I’m sorry if I ever gave you that impression.”
I start to turn away, but his hand cups around my cheek, and he holds me in place. “Please, Mia. Tell me what you mean.”
“Maybe you’re not going anywhere today or tomorrow, but one day, you’ll realize that Spruce Crossing is too small, that cows are overrunning this place, and we get excited about flamingos replacing reindeer at the community center. You’ll outgrow this place.”
You’ll outgrow me, I think but keep that part silent.
“Oh, Mia,” Mason sighs, drawing me into a tight embrace. “Don’t you get it? That’s what makes me love this place even more. I chose Spruce Crossing to escape the city, and the more time I spend here, the more I realize I made the right choice. This is where I want to be, to live my dream, surrounded by this beauty, building the restaurant I always wanted… with you.”
My head tilts back, and I stare into his eyes, reading nothing but sincerity there.
“But how are you going to keep it going? There aren’t enough people living here,” I whisper, wishing I wasn’t being so negative, but I have to ask, to know how he intends to plan for the future.
He smiles and releases me. “You may not see it, but being a tax lawyer has its benefits. I did a full workup on the town before I took the plunge.”
Curiously, I look at him. “What do you mean?”
“One of Spruce Crossing’s biggest sources of income is tourism. Those numbers grow every year. Eventually, others will come here, too, to set up shop as the economy grows. I just got in early, but if I play my cards right, Wild Sage will become a fixture here well before that happens.”
Feeling slightly foolish, I titter. “You did your homework,” I sigh. “I should have known.”
“How could you have known? I forgot myself for weeks,” he reminds me, taking my hand. “So you see? I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.”
Emotion wells in my chest, and I stifle the urge to sob with happiness.
“I guess my question is, will you be a part of all this with me?” Mason concludes.
“Do you want a partner?”
He shakes his head. “No,” he replies huskily, brushing his lips over mine. “I want you as a partner.”
Returning his kiss eagerly, I wrap my arms around his neck and relish the sweet coolness of the snow as it falls down my neck and burning cheeks.
I got my Christmas miracle after all.