Long_Way_Home

was around, but still, the first time you touch another man like that out in the open air … it takes some nerve. I was amazed he was willing to walk along holding hands with me like that.
    It probably wasn’t a coincidence that we ended up at the fishing hole.
    “I came down here yesterday,” I said.
    “A walk down memory lane?”
    “Something like that.”
    “What did you think about? Me?” He looked so eager I almost said yes. “No, just general thoughts about my parents, and Christmas –” He tackled me and pinned me in the snow, holding my wrists over my head. “You thought about me, didn’t you?”
    “Were you showing off for me when you went swimming nekkid?” I demanded.
    He blushed! Again! “Well, maybe, kinda,” he mumbled.

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    The Long Way Home / Catt Ford

    I rolled him off me and struggled to my feet before sprinting away. A snowball hit my shoulder and exploded into white powder. “Oh, that’s it! This means war!” I scooped snow with my mittened hands, packing it tightly and let it fly, catching him full in the mouth. Well, it wouldn’t have been such an easy shot if he hadn’t left it hanging open laughing at me.
    We ducked in and out of the trees, snowballs flying between us, laughing as if we were ten again. Suddenly my world seemed just as uncomplicated as it was back then, with my only goal being to best him.
    He had me in strength, but I was quick and wily. As long as I didn’t let him catch me –
    I went down face first into the snow, all the breath knocked out of me. But at least he went down with me, on top of me and then at the bottom as we rolled, laughing when we came to rest. He gazed up at me, looking as starry-eyed as I felt.
    “This is like some kind of dream,” I said. I leaned forward to kiss him and he met my lips eagerly.
    “Afraid you’ll wake up de-Scrooged tomorrow morning, with an impulse to buy a turkey and send it to an indigent family?” he teased when we broke the kiss.
    “You’re not the ghost of Christmas bait-and-switch, are you?”

36
    The Long Way Home / Catt Ford

    He looked at me tenderly. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I love you.”
    “I believe you’re a romantic.”
    “I’m a flaming romantic, I’ve just never had anyone to show it to.”
    I rubbed my nose against his. “Me too.”
    “Let’s go into town.”
    “Why?” I fell back into the snow as he raised up from under me, but he gave me a hand up. We brushed the snow off each other with lingering little caresses.
    “The tree is being lit up in the square tonight. Want to see it?”
    “Sure,” I said uneasily. Cocooned as we were in our private little world, I wasn’t quite ready to let anyone else in.
    If my dream was going to be deflated, I didn’t want it to happen just yet.

    IT was just barely dusk when we stood in the town center, along with a hundred other people, watching as the tree was lit. It was pretty, glittering with white lights against the dark blue sky, but I was so nervous I could hardly enjoy it.
    Nervous because Jake was holding my hand.

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    The Long Way Home / Catt Ford

    In front of everyone. All the kids we’d gone to school with, well, they weren’t kids any more either, but the people who kept the stores, other farmers, and our teachers. People who knew our parents and had known us all our lives.
    Miss Bleiweiss, our third grade teacher, glared at us disapprovingly.
    I nudged Jake, trying to pull my hand out of his. “Did you see Miss Bleiweiss?” I hissed.
    He held onto me firmly. “Yeah, she always hated me. I don’t think she cared for you too much either, but she hated everyone.”
    “So you’re saying it’s just general hate, not specifically because we’re holding hands?” I muttered.
    “Who cares? I want everyone to know you’re back and you’re mine.”
    He was still the leader. I was the one living out in the city, but I wouldn’t have had the nerve to do what he did. I couldn’t doubt him any more. He was looking at me anxiously and I realized he must be waiting for a similar declaration.
    I squeezed his hand, surprised at the feeling of possessiveness that surged up inside me. “And you’re mine.”
    “If we’re going to do this, I can’t pretend any more,” Jake said, looking at me anxiously.

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    The Long Way Home / Catt Ford

    “Some people are going to hate it.”
    “I know.” He bumped his shoulder against mine. “Their problem.”
    The church choir had their robes on over their coats, looking like