A Winter’s Wedding (Christmas Cove #3)

Chapter 8

It may not have been the wedding night he had imagined. Waking up beside his very clothed wife, Leo still felt like he was dreaming the whole thing from getting married in Vegas to deciding to road trip across the country. Outside, the first light of day reflected off of the rusty earth and cast the whole room in an amber hue. America’s rosy cheeks and luscious lips begged to be peppered with little kisses. Her warm skin greeted his lips and her eyes fluttered open. “Morning,” he whispered.

America pulled her covers up over her chin and mouth, but he could see she was smiling under the thin white sheet. “What time is it?” The fabric muffled her words.

“Nearly seven. We should get on the road before too long,” he said and pulled the sheet down, exposing her smile and dark lashes. “You’re beautiful in the morning. Have I ever told you that?”

“You’ve seen me in the morning before,” America said and sat up. The covers fell away from her red and pink plaid pajamas, that covered way too much skin for his liking, but were completely appropriate for the cool desert winter temperatures.

“Maybe so, but I’ve never woken up in the same bed as you, and I’ve certainly never roused you with kisses before.” Leo leaned in and America rewarded him with a sweet peck. “You want to get breakfast before we go?”

“I could eat a horse,” she said, and Leo knew better than to let her get overly-hungry.

It took no time at all to get dressed and pack up their few things. Leo put on the same jeans he had worn yesterday and a clean gray tee shirt. A faded Red Sox baseball cap subdued his bedhead, which was worse than ever since he had taken a shower and fallen asleep with damp hair. America threw on a dark gray bodysuit with a thick flannel jacket that looked like a button-down shirt. The skintight athletic material hugged every one of her curves and left little to his overactive imagination.

Outside, the various hogans and RV hookups surrounded a central circle. Some of the guests milled around, packing bags or their cars. In the center, their host, Nahele, stood in front of a large grill with a flat cooktop, flipping what looked like a mixture of cut potatoes, sausage, and peppers. Beside the grill, a folding table held a large silver coffee dispenser, stacks of tortillas, and rolls of tinfoil. Leo’s mouth was already watering, and America rubbed her flat stomach, though he doubted she realized she performed the gesture in anticipation of filling her belly.

“Morning, folks,” Nahele greeted them with a friendly smile. “This batch of my famous southwestern hash is just about done cooking. Get yourself a wrap and I’ll load it up.”

“Breakfast smells incredible,” America said.

“How was your evening?” Nahele asked as he spooned a portion of hash into America’s waiting tortilla. “I missed you at the bonfire.”

“We crashed, and I slept like a baby,” she said. “You know, we own a place similar to this one back home in New England. We have a bunch of cabins and a converted barn which serves as the main meeting place. It’s nice to feel a little bit of home here.”

“Is that right? What’s your place called?” Nahele asked while filling Leo’s wrap. “I’ll have to check it out next time I’m in the area.”

“It’s called The Foundry Retreat,” Leo said. “What brings you out our way?”

“There’s an annual tribal meeting up in Nova Scotia every year. I’ve gone a couple times.”

Leo dug a business card from his wallet and handed it over. “We’d be happy to have you if you’re ever our way.”

“It seems like you are a long way from home. Where are you heading today?” Nahele asked as he scooped hash into another guest’s tortilla.

“Colorado Springs,” Leo said.

“But we’re stopping at Four Corners first. I don’t know the next time we’ll be driving through the desert, so we might as well see what we can see.” America’s enthusiasm was showing, and Leo was happy she seemed less stressed than she had yesterday. It was a miracle what a good night’s sleep and some delicious food could do for a person’s attitude.

“The corner is about thirty minutes away,” Nahele said. “But, if you have a few minutes before you go, I’d like to give you something. I was hoping you would come to the bonfire last night, but seeing as you’re here now…”

Leo nodded. “We have a few minutes.”

Leo cozied up beside America on a picnic table bench and downed his breakfast. “If this isn’t world famous, it should be.”

America nodded while she chewed her last bite. Nahele finished serving all the waiting guests and disappeared into the welcome cabin. Some of the fellow guests milled around the central campfire and smiled while exchanging greetings. One couple took their tinfoil-wrapped breakfast and stowed it in their oversized hiking backpacks. The middle-aged man and woman, with their extendable hiking sticks, headed east towards a rather tall mesa protruding from the otherwise flat surroundings.

“This place is pretty incredible,” Leo said. “It’s too bad we can’t stay longer.”

Nahele approached with a woman on his arm. She was small in stature, but her weathered face showed strength and kind dignity. Her long salt and pepper hair hung down over both shoulders in tidy plaited strands and a smile split her lips where white teeth shined in the morning light. She put her hands out to America but said nothing and inspected America’s dark hair and bright eyes.

After it seemed America passed the old woman’s test, the woman turned and took a leather saddle bag from Nahele. From the sack, she pulled out a kind of flat bread and unwrapped the cellophane. She broke the thin loaf in half and handed a piece to both Leo and America. “Nahele tells me you wed yesterday?”

America nodded and stood shoulder to shoulder with Leo.

“I would like to bestow a marriage blessing as a gift to you,” she said.

“Thank you. We would be honored.” Leo had been feeling uneasy about how the last twenty-four hours had gone, but this blessing, so generously gifted to them, could be the thing he and America needed to feel their marriage was official. “This is very kind of you. We came in last night and basically crashed. I don’t even remember what we said to Nahele.”

“Such a beautiful, young couple. But I sense turmoil in your spirits and hope this traditional blessing will provide you with peace. My name is Doba. What are your names?” she said.

“This is America and I’m Leopold.”

“Leopold and America, you have lit a flame.” She pantomimed a flame burning in the palms of her hands. “And the fire should be kindled. Your blaze represents love and, just like a fire, your love must be tended to. The new ember, sparked by your love, represents a new beginning, a new life. No longer one, as two, your flame will grow, just like your family will grow. You are meant to be united until old age, when the natural course of a flame extinguishes and returns you to the ground,” Doba said, and added a word in her native language. “Eat of the bread and burn the rest in the fire pit as an offering to the earth.”

They followed Doba’s instructions, taking a bite and tossing the remaining bread to the fire. With this act, a serenity settled inside Leo, and he released the uneasy feelings he had about the unorthodox way their marriage began. If he desired to have a love as big as the one his parents shared, Doba’s blessing was certainly helping things off in the right direction.

They said their goodbyes and thanks and walked without words to their waiting SUV. America beamed as they drove the short distance to Four Corners. Though Leo wasn’t speeding, exactly, there wasn’t any posted speed limit on the dirt road. He was sure he was traveling faster than he should have; anxious to get to their next stop. Nahele had been correct, and the drive took a little over thirty minutes.

Pulling up to the parking area on the southeast side of the square, they crossed the border between Arizona into New Mexico, and parked. One other car crawled up the dirt road behind them but parked on the adjacent side. America hopped down from the car first and kicked up a cloud of loose dust with her feet.

“I’m not used to this free-wheeling version of you. I’m normally the one pulling you from your comfort zone, and here you are…” Leo kissed the side of her head as they walked to the center of the monument. “Running enthusiastically into new experiences.”

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” she chuckled.

“No. I like it, it’s just different. I don’t even see you check your watch anymore.”

“Well,” America said and skipped to the junction of the four state’s border lines and lay on the ground like a starfish. “I’ve never been in four places at once. If I can do this, I can do anything.”

Leo could see her pink cheeks lighting up as the morning sun kissed her skin. She was the most beautiful bride he had ever seen. His bride. He was still unsure how he ended up with someone that was so clearly out of his league, that he shook his head quickly to make certain he wasn’t fantasizing.

“Alright,” he nudged her over with his toe. “My turn to be multi-spatial.”

She scooted and they lay beside each other looking at the various flags flying over each quadrant. Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico. Leo couldn’t help but think of how uninhabitable the landscape was in this part of the country, and that people, for thousands of years, had found a way to live in harmony with the land despite the unforgiving conditions.

Time ticked by, and his eagerness to get home and begin his life with his new wife swelled in his heart. Leo stood and brushed the dirt from his pants and shirt. He pulled America off the ground and to her feet and helped her with the dirt covering her bottom. She didn’t seem to mind his touch, but a blush warmed her face. Whether they were married this week or next, made no difference to him in the long run, he was just glad to have the stunning woman beside him.

They snapped a selfie together with the four pie pieces of the border visible behind them and headed back to the car. On the glass of the rear windshield, caked with fine dust, America used her finger to write the words Colorado or Bust .