Chosen - Christine Pope (mobile ebook reader .TXT) 📗

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We checked the radio every day after that, but got nothing but static and hiss. It was frustrating — for me, anyway — but as there didn’t seem to be much we could do about the communications blackout, we put it aside so we could focus on more important things, like surviving the winter.

Well, it wasn’t that bad, but I still could tell I hadn’t become acclimated to the cold. Santa Fe probably averaged around ten to fifteen degrees colder than Albuquerque most of the time, but when that difference is between fifty-five degrees and forty, believe me, you can feel it. We had the wood stove in the sitting room going all the time, and the fireplaces in the living room and family room as well, but you could still sense the drop in temperature when you went out of the range of any of them. Jace got in the habit of going to our bedroom immediately after dinner and starting a fire so it would be comfortable enough to get undressed by the time we went in there.

Of course it could have been much worse, and the conditions were certainly endurable, but all the same, I found myself missing the central forced heat at my parents’ house or even the wall unit in my studio apartment over the garage. That thing had heated up fast.

But those appliances were long gone, along with a million other comforts and conveniences I hadn’t even appreciated until I didn’t have them anymore, and so I told myself not to worry about them, that I was damn lucky to be where I was now.

Especially since I could be here with Jace.

We talked about the coming spring, about what we might be able to plant outside the greenhouse to supplement the crops we grew there. Because of the goats, we’d have to build a separate enclosure for another garden, since otherwise it would get eaten before we had a chance to harvest anything, but Jace thought he could manage it, especially if the stores of lumber down at the Home Depot didn’t get pilfered by whatever survivors were still lurking around the area.

And occasionally, after I was done hurriedly washing my face and brushing my teeth, because the heat from the fireplace in the main part of the bedroom didn’t quite reach into the bathroom, I’d pull out my packet of pills and hesitate before taking one. We hadn’t discussed that kind of future, but it seemed clear to me that Jace didn’t intend to go anywhere, that he was planning on a future with me in it. Was it crazy to consider starting a family? After all, someone needed to begin repopulating the earth.

But after that wild moment of hesitation, I always popped the pill in my mouth and swallowed it resolutely. Having a baby was a crazy idea. With no doctors, no medical facilities…no epidurals?

No, thanks.

The funny thing was, I’d never been all that invested in the idea of having a family. Elena was the one who wanted to get married and have lots of kids (and a nanny, of course) and do all that domestic stuff, and Tori wanted to be a social worker and focus on other people’s kids, not her own. As for me, well, most of the time my main concern had been finding someone to have a few dates with and then break up with before things got serious. I’d tried serious once, and all that had gotten me was taking multiple exams for a bewildering variety of social diseases, thanks to my cheating ex.

With Jace, though…it was different. So different that some days I could barely wrap my head around it. I thought it would probably be wonderful to have a child with him, because I had a feeling he’d be a great father. He certainly possessed the patience and the quiet good humor. I knew I could count on him to be steady under pressure…a lot steadier than I, when you got right down to it.

Also, he was so gorgeous that it seemed a real shame to let all that amazing DNA go to waste.

More important than all that, however, was that I loved him. I wanted to bring something into the world that came from our shared love, that showed our commitment to one another.

I knew better than to bring up the subject, though. One day, the time would be right to discuss a future beyond the next planting season, but I didn’t think we were there. Not quite yet, anyway.

The cold days slid past. It snowed here and there, but never enough to completely bury us, just enough to make the world pretty to look at and a pain to get around in. Christmas would be here in less than a week, and I had no idea what to do about that. I wanted to give Jace something, but I couldn’t exactly nip out to the mall and buy him a sweater. Yes, we could go into town together and split up while we picked out presents for one another, but that didn’t sound very safe.

When I mentioned Christmas to him, that I wished I could get him something, he’d pulled me against him and given me a strong, lingering kiss, the kind that made me want to drag him back to the bedroom and tear all his clothes off, although we’d have to pause long enough to get a fire started before I could safely do that. And he’d said,

“You’re the only present I need.”

How was I supposed to respond to that statement? By kissing him back, of course, and telling myself that presents didn’t matter, that being here together was what mattered.

The next day he went out with the ATV, saying he was going hunting, and since he went on these expeditions a few times a week, I didn’t think all that much of it.

But then he returned carrying a beautiful pine tree, a little bit taller than he was, and I realized he had given me my present, the one thing I’d really wanted all along.

“How did you know I wanted a Christmas tree?” I asked, watching as he settled it in a corner of the living room. It had a stand made of two pieces of wood attached to the bottom of the trunk, so he must have stopped at the garage first to hammer those on before coming to the house.

“I guessed. I saw the look in your eyes when you were talking about Christmas, and….” His shoulders lifted, and he reached out to make a minute adjustment so the tree sat more squarely in the corner. “I thought you should have some sort of holiday, even if it can’t be like what you were used to.”

“It’s perfect,” I said sincerely. And it was, especially because I knew Jace wasn’t Christian, and might not have even had a tree while he was growing up. But he’d still realized how important following these traditions was to me.

“Glad you like it.” He stepped back a few feet from the tree, looking at it with narrowed eyes, as if making sure it stood as straight as it possibly could. “I didn’t have anything to use as a bowl, so I’m not sure how we’ll keep it fresh.”

“I’ll get some paper towels and dampen them, then wrap them around the bottom of the trunk. It should work okay.” I gazed at the tree, wondering what to do to decorate it. Go to town and raid the nearest Michael’s? No, that wouldn’t work, even if I could convince Jace to take me on such a frivolous expedition. The Heat had struck in late September, and even a store as gung-ho for Christmas as Michael’s wouldn’t have had any decorations out then. Should we raid random houses along Upper Canyon Road and see if they had any boxes of Christmas decorations hidden in their garages?

That sounded even worse.

Then I remembered the jars of popping corn in the pantry. Perfect. Old-fashioned, but it suited the way we were living now. “We can make popcorn strings, and I’ll use one of the spare Mexican blankets in the linen closet to wrap around the base. It’ll look great.”

Jace nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll try not to eat all the popcorn before you get it on the string.”

“Better not,” I warned him, and went to kiss him on the cheek before heading off to the kitchen. I had no idea how much popcorn to make to cover a seven-foot tree, but I got the feeling I was about to find out.