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“I uh…don’t know.”
The lady looked perplexed. “Is he into arts and crafts…?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Does he like costumes and to dress up?”
Trey frowned. “I don’t think so. But I don’t really know.” He chafed at her baffled gaze. “I’ve been…gone,” he said shortly. “I haven’t seen him for years.”
Her expression cleared. “You just got back from overseas. Bless you, dear, and thank you for your service to the country.”
Trey felt sick. He wanted to correct her but couldn’t bring himself to extend the conversation a moment longer than necessary. “Can you just show me the toys that are appropriate for five year old boys?”
“Of course. Right here.” She led him down a few feet and tapped the shelf “These are all excellent choices. Legos, Ninja turtles, Power Rangers—they remain popular year after year—Transformers, Transformer dinosaurs or bots as some people call them.” She pointed to another shelf. “Robots, Hot Wheels, army men—” she broke off to give him a warm smile. “—and then all the Nerf guns and mega blasters. Some parents are funny about giving toy guns but in my experience, most Montana boys love them. We are a hunting and fishing state!”
Trey thanked her for her help, ready to do make some decisions on his own but the sales woman seemed inclined to stay, and chat. “Now, I was one of those parents who didn’t want to give toy guns,” she said. “But my sons found a way to make guns anyway with their Tinker Toys and Lincoln Logs. Finally one day I thought enough, a boy is a boy, let him be a boy—”
“Thank you,” Trey interrupted kindly, but firmly. “You have been so helpful. I’ll bring my purchases up to the counter. Will you be the one at the register?”
“I will.”
“Perfect. Then I can show you what I’ve picked out.”
Trey was on his way to the truck, his arms filled with plastic bags and wrapped packages when he passed an artsy looking little shop named Montana Hearts that featured glazed mugs and pottery, sculpture and paintings and what looked like handmade jewelry.
It was the jewelry display in the window that caught his attention and made him stop, and then go inside.
“The necklace with the brass angel,” he said. “Can I see that?”
“It looks like brass, doesn’t it?” the young woman said, leaving the counter to head for the display. “But it’s actually standard yellow gold with a pink gold overlay, kind of like Black Hills gold, but we can’t call it that since it’s not made in South Dakota.” She reached into the display and lifted the necklace with the angel out. “I love this. It’s so delicate and unusual. It reminds me of a Christmas ornament.”
She placed the angel in his open palm and he studied the little angel’s swirl of skirt and sweep of halo and wings. She looked so much like the brass angel ornaments he’d bought from McKenna her freshman year of high school. “She’s pretty,” he said.
“Handmade by a local artisan. We also have another one that’s with the same angel, but she’s more gold than pink and instead or a harp, she’s holding a dark blue Montana sapphire. It’s really gorgeous. It’s probably my favorite thing we have in the shop.”
“That’s the one I want.”
“It’s rather pricey. It’s real gold and a genuine sapphire—”
“That’s fine. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”
Chapter Thirteen
‡
Returning to the cabin Trey tucked the bags and presents in the closet in the master bedroom and then helped TJ into his coat before doing up the zipper.
TJ ran outside to climb in the truck and Trey and McKenna followed more slowly.
“Looks like you had some success,” she said.
Trey nodded. “It was hard at first. I wasn’t sure what TJ would want but I ended up buying some Legos and then I spotted these sets of miniature tin soldiers at the antique store next door to the post office. There are actually two armies, one in red and one in blue. It’s something I would have liked when I was a kid. It has cannons and guys with flags and guys on horses, too.”
“I think he’ll love it.”
“Do you?” Trey looked uncertain. “I wasn’t sure. So I also got him this Transformer dinosaur thing just in case.”
“TJ is just so happy to have you here. The presents don’t matter.”
“It’s Christmas, of course they matter.”
“What about stocking stuffers? Find anything?”
“I found a stocking and picked up some little things—candy, silly putty and matchbox cars—but you might want to get a few things, too.”
“Will do.”
He hesitated on the bottom step. “Oh, and Mine Craft. I looked for them everywhere. Couldn’t find anything and I’d really hoped to get him one of those Enderman guys.”
“You’re spoiling him. It’s not necessary.”
“I’m excited about Christmas.”
She smiled. “I know. And so am I. It’s going to be fun to watch him open his gifts together.”
Trey gave his keys a jingle. “We still need wrapping paper, though. I forgot all about that.”
“No worries. Anything else?”
“If you can find a Mine Craft Enderman… can you pick it up for me?”
Her smile grew. “Yes, I will, and don’t worry, Henchman, it’ll be from you.”
*
It began to snow mid afternoon while McKenna was in the grocery store. She was heading for the check out when she saw the first fat flakes flutter down.
The clerk noticed the snow, too. “Supposed to be the biggest storm of the year. At least one foot tonight,
maybe more.”
“I heard it’s unusual to get that much snow here at one time,” McKenna said, taking another quick look over her shopping check list to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.
“You’re not from here?”
“From Marietta.” She saw the clerk’s puzzled expression. “Between Bozeman and West Yellowstone.”
“You get some cold weather.”
“We do,” McKenna agreed.
“We get off easier, here, protected by the Mission Mountains, and then the lake itself keeps things warmer.”
“Does it?” McKenna asked, helping bag up the groceries.
“It’s our secret,” the clerk answered with a wink. “We’re far more temperate than the rest of the state. Great summers, mild winters, but don’t tell anyone. We like our quiet little community.”
The snow was falling thicker and faster as McKenna drove from the grocery store through downtown Bigfork, windshield wipes scraping back and forth to clear her vision. She scanned the storefronts, looking for a shop that might carry the Mine Craft toys for TJ. There was a toy shop a couple blocks from the movie theater. McKenna snagged a parking spot out front and headed into the store.
“Sold out of all the Mine Craft figurines we had, and didn’t get any of the stuffed toys in this year,” the teenage boy answered, “but we do have a youth backpack with a Creeper and a Zombie on it. How old is the kid?”
“Five,” McKenna said.
“Would he like a backpack?” The teenager scratched the side of his nose. “Does anyone like backpacks? Hard to say. How much does he like Mine Craft?”
“A lot.”
“Then he’ll like it. I mean, the Zombie and Creeper are both green and the backpack is black. So that’s kind of cool, you know?”
McKenna agreed and was at the counter paying for the backpack, keeping one eye on the snow outside which was coming down even faster now, when she spotted a green and white knit stocking hanging from the counter overflowing with packages of Moose poop (chocolate nuggets) and candy coal (licorice). Over the stocking hung a small sign, For Those on Santa’s Naughty List.
