Chapter 4 Frankincense
FRANKINCENSE
Saying good-bye to our mothers, I walk the tiny woman out to her huge truck that looks like it’s been hit once or twice by the demon that got my car.
She turns to me and grimaces. “You didn’t need to walk me out.”
“Actually I wanted to talk to you. I like your land. I wondered if you’d be willing to sell it to me.
Right now I’m staying next door at the bed and breakfast just down the road but your farm has just what I need.
Plenty of space, it’s isolated and I have room to bring my mom home to.
I want to retire to someplace that has room for her. ”
Her eyes widen to ice-blue pools. “I’m not selling.”
“I know that. But what if I offered ten percent over the estimates for your place?”
“Not even then,” she huffs. “I’ve got no interest in selling. That land is my family’s legacy to my daughter. I will never sell it.”
Her shoulders are so tight that it looks like she’s fighting the urge to hit me.
She’s a feisty one!
I like that.
But she also looks exhausted.
“Do you have any help out there?”
“I don’t need help.”
“You might. Why don’t you just think about it? I’m going to pay cash and I’ll go twenty percent over asking. As long as the inspection looks good.”
“I’m not interested.” She turns her slim back and the crimson hat on her head swings out. She’s like a little angry Christmas elf.
“Go find someplace else, Frankincense.” She deliberately puts a little sting to the name and I huff out a sharp breath.
“You can’t take care of that farm by yourself, Mistletoe, and you know it. I’m doing you a favor taking it off your hands.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” She stomps off to her truck and slams the old door, glaring at me the whole time. When she starts that old thing it grinds a little bit and I walk forward, opening my mouth to tell her that she shouldn’t drive home in that thing.
But she turns the wheel and slams it into drive, dust trailing along behind her. I run inside and holler, “Hey, Mom! I’ve got to go. I forgot about a meeting that I need to get out of the way and I left my laptop at the bed and breakfast.”
“Oh, okay, honey! Be careful and call me when you’re all done!”
“Sure, Mom! Bye!”
I charge out the door and pull my coat on over my button-down and jeans, rolling my eyes at the frayed edges and ripped-apart seams.
“That thing is a menace,” I mutter.
I slam the door on my brand-new SUV and head for the bed and breakfast. Mistletoe’s farm is only a little way past it so I should run into her along the way. An over-riding need to make sure she’s okay roars to life inside me.
I don’t know why. Don’t want to know why right now.
All I know is that I need to get to her. Need to make sure that she’s okay.
It’s only about ten minutes later that I see flashing lights up ahead and I know.
I pull in behind the old truck that’s steaming alongside the road. I step out and the other door ahead of me says stubbornly closed.
I step up to the window and tap at it. For a minute I think she’s going to ignore me. But then her narrow shoulders sink and she slowly unrolls the window.
The truck is so old it doesn’t even have electric windows.
Her eyes remain stubbornly fixed ahead. “Need a ride, Mistletoe?”
“No,” she huffs.
“Well, that’s a pity. Because if I leave you here alone my mom and yours would break me in half. So get what you need and I’ll run you home. We can call a tow truck from there. Your truck isn’t going anywhere anyway.”
“I need to go to the school later to pick up my daughter so it better be running soon.”
I could argue with her but I might as well let the mechanic break the news. I doubt if she’d believe me anyway.
She huffs and rolls up the window then the door flies open and she drops to the ground and reaches back to gather some packages off the seat.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Christmas presents. For my daughter.” Her words are short and sharp and a niggling annoyance trails through me.
I’m trying to do her a favor. I could leave her stranded out here.
Not that I ever would. The thought of her being stuck out here alone terrifies me.
Any woman. I’d think that about any woman.
“Come on, Misty. Let’s get you home.”
Her head jerks up and she glares at me. “You don’t get to call me that. Only my friends call me that.”
“We could be friends. Our mothers are friends, Misty.”
“I don’t think so, Frankincense.”
I hold the door for her and reach out to help her find the seatbelt. She jerks it out of my hand.
I run around the front and start the car, hitting the heat so that her frozen hands can warm up. I also hit the heated seats and she wriggles down into it but doesn’t say one word.
But I see a little smile curling her lips as she wraps her arms around herself.
And I can’t help smiling too. Such a little thing but I like knowing that I’ve given her some comfort.
I’m starting to think I might give this woman whatever she asks for.
Including leaving her alone.
My belly sinks and I stare straight ahead, wondering if I can really do that if she asks me again.