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Plans coming to fruition, even if I had no idea what they might be.
That seemed to be that.
Saturday at the store was even busier than Friday, thanks to all the people coming to town for the festival later that evening. As I hurried from customer to customer, explaining a particular book or spell candle, running back to the cash register to help someone else, I wondered if I’d been foolish for not hiring some seasonal help. There were probably some girls from the high school who would’ve liked to earn a few extra bucks during these crazy weeks.
But since I’d thought I could handle the extra volume, I was going it alone this year. After all the hubbub died down, I’d take a step back and assess, and make better plans for the next holiday season.
By the time I locked the door at five, I wondered if I even had the energy left to go wandering around some Native American ruins, no matter how picturesque they might be with all the luminarias set out everywhere. My feet and my back were both telling me they’d much prefer to spend the evening on the couch with a glass of wine and a fire in the hearth.
I’d promised Calvin, though, and so I knew I really couldn’t back out now. No, I’d just switch from these ballet flats into my comfiest boots, and know that at least I didn’t have to work the next day. Josie had questioned my judgment in deciding to stick with my usual Sunday off, despite its being so close to Christmas — and with a bunch of tourists still wandering around the town — but I’d stuck to my guns. After all, I didn’t really need the money. And people should know I wasn’t at anyone’s beck and call.
Because I’d be leaving Archie alone for the evening, I gave him an extra salmon treat after I fed him his dinner. “I don’t think I’ll be too late,” I told him as I pulled on my jacket. Calvin was picking me up and hadn’t arrived at my apartment yet, but I figured I might as well be ready so we could head out as soon as he got here.
“That’s fine,” Archie replied. He was already parked on the couch; I hadn’t bothered to crack the window to let him out since Calvin and I wouldn’t be staying at the apartment.
Had that salmon treat made Archie feel extra mellow, or was he just relieved to have the apartment to himself for the evening? I had to admit that my home was looking even cozier than usual, thanks to the pine garland on the fireplace, trimmed in red and gold bows, and the small Christmas tree that had a place of honor in the corner. And because Archie wasn’t really a cat, but a man who’d probably been even fussier about his house in his former life than I was now, I knew I didn’t have to worry about him knocking any of the ornaments off the tree or making a leap for the star that shone from the top.
“Enjoy the peace and quiet,” I said, and knew my eyes were probably twinkling.
He didn’t have time for a retort, however, because Calvin knocked at the door right then. We exchanged a very brief kiss, and then I locked the door behind me so we could head down the stairs and get into his Durango.
“Any luck on the baby Jesus front?” he asked as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“Nothing,” I said, and allowed myself a sigh.
“Josie must be getting kind of anxious.”
Oddly, I hadn’t heard anything from her all day. I supposed she must have been busy as well, getting ready for the Festival of Lights. “I’m hoping she had other things to worry about,” I told Calvin. “And she knows I’m pretty good about staying in touch if I have anything to tell her. In this case, though, no news just means no news.”
“Sorry about that,” he said, and I shrugged.
“I’ll have more time tomorrow. The universe has been giving me a hint here and there, but so far I haven’t been able to piece together the big picture.”
Calvin reached over and touched my hand, just a reassuring brush of his fingers against mine before he wrapped them around the steering wheel once more. Even that brief caress made me feel a lot better about the situation. Because although I knew that a missing baby Jesus wasn’t a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, I’d made a promise to Josie, and I didn’t want to let her down.
Also, I had the sinking feeling that once the Festival of Lights was over, she’d have plenty of spare time to give me grief about not being able to locate the stolen figure. Right then, I found myself hoping she’d be so occupied with managing all the moving parts to the festival — the carolers and the luminarias and Santa and everything else — that she wouldn’t even notice Calvin and I were there at all. We could show up, see the sights, try to get a little of that holiday spirit, and then head home. Archie still wouldn’t have anything to worry about, since Calvin had to work early the next morning and so wasn’t planning on staying over.
As he parked the Durango in a lot full almost to bursting, I did my best to repress a pang at the realization that my mom and Tom wouldn’t be here to experience the event with us. They’d made plans to come to Globe for the festival, but some last-minute crisis with Tom’s daughter Lauren had put the kibosh on the scheme.
“But we’ll still be there after Christmas,” my mother assured me when she’d called to give me the bad news.
I had my doubts. She’d said she and Tom would come on the twenty-seventh and then head back to L.A. on the thirtieth, because they’d been throwing a big New Year’s party for the last five years or so, and she needed to be home in time to wrap up all the preparations and manage the caterer and her cleaning team, but it seemed a long way to drive to only spend three days. However, I hadn’t argued. I’d only said that Calvin and I were looking forward to seeing them, and had hung up afterward, overwhelmed by a feeling of inevitability.
After my mother had canceled, I’d asked my friend Hazel Marr if she and her boyfriend Chuck wanted to come along on our outing, but she’d demurred, saying that she’d been to the festival plenty of times before, and that she and Chuck were headed into Gilbert Saturday night to have dinner and go to the movies. Anyway, that was why Calvin and I were flying solo for this particular outing.
I’d never been to the Besh-Ba-Gowah ruins before, although I’d seen photos online. Still, those images definitely hadn’t been enough to prepare me for the striking stone structures that rose from the scrubby desert floor, their square shapes outlined by ranks of luminarias, all glowing from within and shedding a warm light on their surroundings. There were also solar-powered path lights and a couple of large industrial-looking fixtures mounted on trailers that had obviously been brought in to guard against stubbed toes and other mishaps.
But those lights couldn’t take away from the luminarias, or the large fire pit off to one side where a group of children were listening to an older man wearing indigenous garb who gestured dramatically as he related some kind of story.
Calvin must have noticed the way my glance strayed in that direction, because he said, “That’s Tom Redhorse. He’s been doing this for years.”
“I suppose I didn’t realize your people would be so involved with the festival,” I replied. We were holding hands because the going was a little rough even with all the extra lighting, and his grip tightened a bit as we began to move upward toward the ruins themselves. “I mean, I’d read there would be some people from the San Ramon tribe here, but….”
The words trailed off, since I didn’t know for sure how in depth we should get on the subject while in such a public place. Crowds of people milled around, looking at the sights, or waiting to have their kids’ picture taken with Santa, who occupied a large chair off to one side, or just hanging out and talking while they sipped hot cider and ate cookies from one of several tables where refreshments had been laid out.
“We’ve been doing this for a while,” he said, his voice also pitched low so only I could hear it. “We do our best to walk a fine line where we keep to ourselves most of the time but don’t want to completely alienate the people here in Globe. The elders decided back before I was even born that participating in the festival was a good idea. Besides, it would have looked odd to have zero participation in the event from the local indigenous people, even if we didn’t build these ruins.”
“What happened to the people who did build them?” I asked, and Calvin responded with a lift of his shoulders.
