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She scoffed. “That’s hardly a defense.”
Jade stood and crossed to the fiction section of the library. She scanned the shelf she was all too familiar with and pulled out a novel. Returning to the table, she handed it over.
“North and South?” her friend asked. “What about it?”
“You do recall the Civil War, right?”
Lisette frowned. She put the book down but didn’t say anything more.
Jade sat. “I can’t let go of how I feel as a human in a world under demonic rule. But I do like the idea of peace.”
“At what price?” her friend finally asked. “You could find yourself in a very difficult and dangerous position if you’re not careful about the company you keep.”
Jade knew better than to argue further. Lisette had a point, after all.
They finished their coffee and muffins in silence. Jade was about to leave when Alex Stanton from the post station blew in, one arm wrapped around a large metal object that appeared to be extremely heavy for the wiry man. He all but dropped it on the spare desk in the corner and dumped a satchel next to it.
He took a moment to catch his breath as Jade closed the door behind him. Then he told her, “Special delivery for you.”
“What is it?” she asked as she stepped around him.
Lisette answered the question. “It’s a manual typewriter. A Royal from the early 1900s.”
“There’s paper too,” Alex said as he lifted the flap on the satchel to reveal a thick stack.
“The ribbon looks to be in good shape,” Lisette mused as she i
nspected the machine. She grabbed a sheet of paper and rolled it into place, then typed a few words. “Very nice.”
Jade was perplexed. “What am I supposed to do with it?”
With a laugh, her friend said, “I haven’t the slightest idea. Write a book, I guess. You do love reading them. Maybe someone thinks there’s a story inside that head of yours.” She turned away.
To Alex, Jade said, “Thanks for bringing it over.”
“Sure thing.”
He left the library and Jade sat at the chair behind the typewriter, staring at the letters on the keys. “Why are they not alphabetized?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a keyboard. The theory I once heard is that they’re arranged by common usage. You become accustomed to where they’re located. If you practice enough, you can type without even looking at the letters.”
She laughed. “Yeah right.” She started pecking out words, nonetheless. Fascinated, even though she wasn’t actually typing anything that made sense—just acclimating herself to the layout—she spent the rest of the afternoon clicking away before heading to the tavern.
When Walker returned her home, she got another surprise.
As she entered the living room, she found it decorated with garland on the fireplace mantle, along with lit candles everywhere. The rectangular table was set for two with her usual dishes and accented with two long, lush arrangements of garland, pinecones and tall tapers.
The scent that wafted her way drew her attention to the kitchen. She didn’t make it there though. Darien stepped into the oversize doorway between the hall and the living room and propped a forearm against the wall. He grinned seductively at her.
“Merry Christmas.”
It was after midnight, so his timing was perfect. She smiled. “I like how you spruced the place up.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be festive.”
“Or kind.” She crossed to where he stood and put her hands on his waist. “Tell me I didn’t guilt you into sharing some of your indulgences with the village.”
He chuckled. “You didn’t. You made a legitimate point and I listened. If I say I want to promote peace, I should back it up with goodwill.”
