Gift of the Heart (A Christmas Romance Novella)

Amy pressed her foot on the accelerator. Looking into the rear view mirror, she watched a cloud of blue-black smoke spew from the Jetta’s exhaust. “Oh, no!”

The car had been okay when she and Josh left Park Rapids five days ago, but crossing the Sierras, the engine had begun to knock. Now, in the middle of California, it appeared to be the end of the road for the ten-year-old sedan.

According to the highway sign she’d just passed, Riverton was over the next rise. The engine labored then coughed. She shifted into low gear and gritted her teeth, willing life into the car. Please Lord, just a little farther.

“Mom, I’m hungry. My tummy hurts.”

She glanced over at her son. His sky blue eyes, so much like her own, peered out the window and his pale, pinched face made her heart ache. To pantomime his distress, he hunched over in his seat, hands clasped across his belly.

A lump formed in her throat. Josh had been so good on the tedious journey west, even though she’d driven ten hours a day since they left Minnesota. He hadn’t questioned her decision to leave, and when they’d slept in the car the last two nights and hadn’t stopped for lunch today, he’d behaved like the trooper he was. He never complained, even when her own family had tried to take control or Jonathan’s parents berated him for some imagined shortcoming, though, she reasoned, they usually reserved those verbal abuses for her.

Finally, she’d had enough. She’d weighed the pros and cons of moving to another town and decided no town in Minnesota would be far enough away to keep them from interfering. She needed a drastic change, and California had what they both needed. It was as far away from Minnesota as they could get, and it held the promise of independence and a job with an old college friend, Clarise.

She crested the hill, and the oil light flashed on. Damn it anyway! They’d never make it to Santa Barbara and Clarise’s without some immediate service. She’d have to stop in Riverton and have the car looked at.

She sucked in a breath and let the vehicle coast downhill into the valley. To the right of the road, gentle slopes descended into a grassy meadow where ten or twelve horses grazed. Straight ahead, the little town backed up against the side of a mountain, nestled among redwoods and pine trees. A block away from the main thoroughfare, water gurgled over the river’s rocks. False-fronted, wooden buildings lined the main road through town, and a tiny steeple rose amid Pacific Coast redwoods. Smoke spiraled up from a dozen chimneys. Amy caught her breath. Riverton looked just like a movie set.

Fifty yards from the town, she crossed a two-lane concrete bridge that spanned a tumbling river. As she approached the traffic signal on the other side, the car belched. The light turned green, and she coasted on through, angled right onto a side street, and pulled her car and its small U-Haul trailer off the road.

“Mom, can we please eat now? Please?”

Amy switched off the ignition and closed her eyes. After having to buy a used tire in Concord, she had exactly twenty-four dollars and seventy-two cents left. Not enough to get them a motel room for the night, and not enough to get the car fixed. She stole a glance at her son, noted his wide-eyed gaze and lower lip caught between oversize teeth, and let out her pent-up breath. Not enough money for anything special, but she sure had enough for a hamburger.

They’d eaten mostly cold cereal and sandwiches to extend her meager finances on the trip. She smiled. “What do you say we find a restaurant?”

“I say yes!”

She locked the Jetta and with Josh skipping at her side, marched down the road to the main street.

They passed Doyle’s gift shop and the bank, where a round clock hung in the window, its hour hand pointing to three. Not surprising, Josh was hungry; they’d been on the road since seven o’clock that morning. She eyed the next building, a hardware store. A dark-haired man straightening garbage cans in front of the building stopped and grinned at them. “Afternoon. Nice day.”

“Yes, it is,” Amy answered. Despite the car problem, it was a beautiful sunny afternoon. Back in Park Rapids, they’d be expecting the first snowstorm. Thank goodness she no longer had to worry about shoveling snow. She thought about phoning Clarise then remembered her cell phone service had expired two days ago.

A Dalmatian on a leash tugged an elderly woman along. When the dog paused to sniff Josh’s trousers, the woman fell in beside Amy.

“Don’t mind Buster. He’s just curious,” she explained with a smile. “He likes kids.”

“We’re looking for a restaurant,” Amy said.

“You can’t do better than Cassidy’s. Right here.”

“Look!” Josh pointed to the weathered wood building directly in front of them. “Bet they have hamburgers in there!”

Amy studied the place. Lace curtains hung over the lower half of a picture window. Across the upper half was emblazoned Cassidy’s. Beneath the windowsill, crimson chrysanthemums cascaded over a green planter box.

Amy grinned. “Bet they do, too. C’mon.” She turned to the older woman. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy your lunch.” The woman tugged her dog’s leash and set off down the street.

Amy watched her disappear around the corner. Friendly sort of place. Small townish. A real contrast with Park Rapids.

Inside, she steered Josh to a table next to the window. On the weathered, wooden wall behind him hung an old bridle and a pitchfork. A nice touch, appropriate for a country cafe. A galvanized milk can propped open the back door.

A minute passed, then two, and finally a harried-looking man wearing a green canvas apron dropped two menus on the table. “Be with you in a minute.”

A Help Wanted sign stuck out from under his arm. He edged around Amy and taped the sign in the window and scurried away. A moment later, he reappeared with two glasses of water and fumbled for his order book.
“Two hamburgers and two fries,” Amy told him. He tramped back to the kitchen and Amy glanced about the room. The rustic, yet spotless cafe appealed to her sense of order.

Eight tables filled the small room, each decorated with fresh flowers in tiny ceramic vases. The wooden plank floors shone with a mellow patina. An elderly man sat at a corner table reading his newspaper, a coffee cup beside him. In another corner, a woman ate alone, gazing idly at a notepad between bites. Amy’s throat tightened. So simple, and so peaceful.

The waiter brought their hamburgers. Josh tore into his as if it were his last meal. Amy bit into hers more slowly. Delicious. Cooked just right, with tomato, pickle, onion, and lettuce. The fries were light and crispy. The Dalmatian lady was right. Food didn’t get much better than this.

“Gee, Mom, this place is nice. Why do we have to go to some other town?” From over his half-eaten hamburger, Josh’s blue eyes pleaded. “Couldn’t we just stay in Riverton? I’m tired of driving.”

“I’m tired too, honey. But we have to go where I can find work. I have a job waiting in Santa Barbara.”

He pointed to the window. “That sign says they need someone right here. And besides, you said something’s wrong with the car.”

Josh was right about the car. The Jetta wasn’t going anywhere without an overhaul, but with no money, she couldn’t afford to have the car repaired. She needed a job now. She hadn’t waited tables since college, but so what? The place was inviting, the food good, and the town fairy-tale charming.

Maybe Riverton was a fortuitous stop. It certainly beat living with Jonathan’s parents. His death had made them even more demanding. For three years she’d tried to build a life for herself and Josh, but her in-laws made it impossible. They tried to make all the decisions, even what school was best for her son. But worse, underneath was their unspoken accusation that she had somehow prevented their son from achieving his full potential. Perhaps they’d been right, but there were things about Jonathan even they didn’t know.

She looked over the cafe once more and her tension eased. The homey atmosphere exuded a warmth she hadn’t felt in months. Maybe, just maybe, here in tiny Riverton she might find a new start.

An instant later, she found herself stepping toward the cash register where their waiter shuffled through receipts. “I’d like to speak to the owner, please.”

The fiftyish man gave her a tired sigh and shoved a wisp of silver hair off his forehead. “You’re looking at him.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the old man look up from his newspaper. The woman in the corner stared at her with interest.
She took a fortifying breath. “I’d like to apply for the waitress job.”

The owner adjusted gold wire-framed glasses a fraction higher on his nose and peered at her. “You new in town?”

She nodded. “We arrived today.”

The cafe owner rolled his eyes. “Had any experience?”

Amy paused. “When I was in school.”

“Watcha been doing since?” Skepticism colored his tone.

Goodness, but he was direct! She clasped and unclasped her hands. “I worked in an office.”

“Kinda odd, you wanting a waitress job, isn’t it?”

Desperation made her pulse pound. Suddenly she wanted this job. Wanted it very much.

She squared her shoulders. “I’m dependable and trustworthy. And I need a job.” She swallowed. She needed this job.

“That your boy?” the man asked, directing his gaze at Josh.

Amy nodded and took a deep breath. Josh needed a safe nest as much as she did.

He thought for a minute. “Sure don’t look like transients,” he muttered under his breath. “When can you start?”

Amy’s gaze darted to her son and back. “Tomorrow.” If she could find a place to spend the night.

“The shift’s ten till four. You get lunch and a salary.” Again he peered across the room at Josh who was sopping the last of his french fries in a pool of ketchup. “Got a place to stay?”

Amy gave him a tight smile. “I’ll find one.”

“Try the Shady Nook.”

Amy raised her eyebrows.

“Cottages by the river. ‘Bout three blocks down on your left. Owner’s Ed Merton. Tell him Dave sent you.”