Cracks in Their Shells

"Tell you what," Cassie began. "Why don't you, Grandma, and Granny go dig out the ornaments and Becca and I will clear the table. The guys can go watch football for a while." Everyone nodded their agreement at this plan.

Once the crowd had dispersed to their respective rooms in the house, Cassie spoke to Becca in a low voice, "Bex, he's adorable! I do believe you are smitten. You did good, sis."

Becca smiled at her sister's praise of her boyfriend and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, he's alright. I'll probably keep him around for a while." Her smile belied her nonchalant words.

"You better. Has he told you he loves you yet?"

"Cassie! We've only been dating for three weeks! We're not quite to that point yet."

"Well, he does," Cassie declared.

"And just how, exactly, can you be so sure, Cass?"

"Bex, I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he smiles. You're not the only one who's smitten. He is 100%, totally, completely, and unequivocally in L-O-V-E with Y-O-U. And," she added, "you are with him, too."

"Guilty as charged, sis, but let's just let this play out naturally, please. He is adjusting to having a woman in his life again after all these years, and I'm, well, you know..." Her voice trailed off.

"Okay, Becca, I'll try not to pry again. But just know I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, sis. Now, let's get this mess cleaned up."

Logan quickly grew bored with the football games. He asked Bud, "Mind if I go outside and have a look around? Your place is beautiful."

"Thank you, Logan. Tell you what: I'll go with you and show you the farm."

Climbing aboard the Gator, they made their way to the barn first. "My grandfather built the place in the forties," he began. My grandmother died young, so when Papa got too old to run the farm by himself, Dad and Granny moved in with him. Charlie and Susie, my brother and sister, and I came along a few years later. Dad passed away a couple of years ago, Granny moved into town, and Charlotte and I inherited the place. This is the only home I've ever known, Logan."

"It's beautiful, Bud. I told Becca when we stopped on top of the hill back there that the place needed its own postcards."

The barn was symmetrical: two stories in the middle to allow for a hayloft, and sloping roofs that covered a tractor shed on one side and four stalls on the other. An orange cat lay in the sun in the open hayloft door. The men walked into the barn to give Logan a chance to explore. The green tractor caught his eye first.

"What is it?" he asked. "It's got red wheels, so I know it's not a Deere, but I can't say that I've ever seen one like it."

"It's an Oliver Row Crop 77," Bud answered. "1953 model, just like me," he grinned. "I use it to work Charlotte's garden, but it's too small to work the big fields. I hire one of the neighbors who has big equipment for that."

An 80s model Chevrolet pickup was parked in the middle of the barn and was loaded with firewood that was waiting to be split and stacked. Two of the stalls were packed with more firewood, while the other two looked to have been recently occupied.

"We've still got a couple of horses, Princess and Jester, who are more like pasture ornaments than saddle horses. The girls used to ride all over the farm. That seems like just yesterday, but it must have been fifteen years or more since there was any horseback riding around here. Cassie got married and Becca lost interest after she returned from..." His voice cracked a little and trailed off.

"Asheville," Logan supplied the word. "She told me what happened."

"I still have nightmares about what that bastard did to my little girl, Logan. I could have killed him. Still could."

"Yep," Logan added glumly.

"She's still my baby, Logan, and always will be. Please take care of her."

"Yessir. You have my word on that."

"Good. She's special, isn't she?"

"Very much so, Bud. I think, I hope, we're good for each other. I know she has been for me."

"Charlotte told me about your wife, Logan. Life can be terribly cruel. I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

The silence between the two men grew awkward. Both of them were relieved when it was broken by Laura's high-pitched voice. She ran into the barn and grabbed Logan's hand. "C'mon, Logan. Let me show you the kitties! You can pick out which one you want."

"I'm not sure my dog would appreciate it if I brought home a kitten, Laura." This prompted a slew of questions about Roscoe, but still she dragged him to the corner of the feed room where a gray cat nursed her litter. Logan had to admit that they were cute little buggers.

Bud saved Logan from having to break Laura's heart and tell her he didn't want a kitten. "Logan, would you mind driving your truck to carry the Christmas tree? As you can see, mine is loaded with firewood." At the mention of the Christmas tree, Laura forgot about the kittens and ran to get the rest of the family. Logan clasped his hands as if he were praying and thanked Bud for the diversion. Bud smiled and chuckled.

"We'll hang out here at the house," Granny announced. "Jim won't be able to walk through the woods, plus, he's dozed off in the recliner anyway. Get a good tree!"

Bud, Charlotte, Cassie, and Tom walked to Tom's SUV. Seeing that Logan and Becca were going in the truck, Laura begged to go with them to get the tree. She climbed into the middle seat after getting a boost from Logan. Once the ride began, Laura seemed determined to tell Logan the story of her young life before the ride ended. She informed him that she had a princess bedroom with purple walls because that was her favorite color, that she had a dog named Peanut and a cat named Prissy, that she wanted to learn to play piano, that she was going to be a ballerina when she grew up, that her favorite food was macaroni and cheese, and again that her favorite color was purple. She finally seemed to run out of steam and Logan decided to try to continue the conversation. He was enjoying the company of the enthusiastic youngster.

"You have a very pretty name, Laura. I once knew someone else named Laura. She was a special lady."

Becca shot him a look of warning, but he missed it. She knew the barrage was about to start.

"Was she pretty?" Laura queried.

"Almost as pretty as you are, Laura. She had green eyes like you, but her hair was darker."

"Was she your wife?"

"Laura, that's not polite," Becca scolded her niece mildly. The little girl looked down at the floor.

"It's okay, Becca," Logan said through a weak smile. "I started this. Yes, Laura, the other Laura was my wife."

Still looking down at the floor, Laura ventured another question. "Did she die?"

"Laura! Don't be rude!" Becca blushed in frustration at the embarrassment her niece was causing with her questions.

"Becca, it's okay," Logan repeated. "She's four. She doesn't understand death."

"Yes, I do, Logan! My goldfish Wally died, and we had to flush him down the potty. I cried."

Logan stifled a laugh at the little girl's sorrow, then managed to say sincerely, "I'm sorry about Wally, Laura. It hurts when someone you love dies." Becca looked at him and mouthed "Awww."

"It's okay, Logan. Mommy got me a better fish named Tess and I'm not sad anymore." Logan had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as the goldfish saga continued to unfold. Laura quickly gave him reason to stop laughing, though. "Are you still sad your wife died?"

"Laura, please..." Becca pleaded.

"Yes, Laura." A tear crept into the corner of his eye. "But, I try to remember good times we shared and not the bad things."

Laura sat silently for a minute, still looking at the floor, until her head suddenly shot up and she exclaimed, "You could marry Aunt Becca and then you wouldn't be sad anymore!"

"LAURA!" This had turned into the Christmas tree run from hell.

In typical four-year-old fashion, Laura rebounded from Becca's rebuke and began talking about everything she wanted for Christmas. Becca looked straight ahead so she wouldn't make eye contact with Logan. Eventually, she could stand it no longer and ventured a glance at him. What she saw broke her heart. The single tear had turned into a stream of tears down his cheeks. She hung her head and tried to hold back her own tears.

When they arrived at the woodlot, Logan got out of the truck and helped Laura to the ground. She took off to join the others, leaving Logan and Becca alone. He refused to look at her, instead looking behind the seat for a pair of work gloves. He then checked the gas and oil in Bud's chainsaw. Seeing her standing there awkwardly searching for something to say, he finally said gruffly, "I've only got one glove. Will you see if Tom has an extra pair I can borrow?" Whispering a simple "okay," she turned and left him there alone.

Cassie instinctively knew that something had gone terribly wrong on the ride over. She pulled Becca to the side to ask her what had happened. She told her sister everything, to which Cassie could only mutter "oh, fuck." Had her little ballerina ruined things between Becca and Logan?

Gathering her wits and her courage, Becca walked back to Logan's truck. "Tom didn't have any extra gloves. Neither did Dad."

"I found my other one under the seat. That ride over was - interesting - no?" She couldn't read the look on his face.

"Yeah," she agreed in a dejected tone. "Leave it to a four-year-old to screw up my life. And yours. Logan, I'm s-"

Logan interrupted her by placing his hands on either side of her waist, picking her up, and setting her not too gently on the tailgate of his truck. Her eyes filled with fear at the sudden change in him, and she tried to back away from whatever he was about to do.

"Don't apologize." His voice was firm, but no longer harsh. "She didn't screw up anything, at least not as far as I'm concerned. In fact, that little girl put everything I've been wrestling with in my mind these past few days into perspective. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I know what I hope and pray it holds. You and me. Together. For a long, long time." Then, he tenderly said the words she had prayed he would one day say.

"Rebecca McQueen, I love you."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as the roller coaster of emotions she had experienced in the last few minutes came to a gentle stop. Still seated on the tailgate, she pulled him close to her, looked deeply into his brown eyes, and said the only thing that needed to be said at that time.

"Logan Mathews, I love you, too."

Their lips met in a passionate kiss that neither wanted to end. Logan was the one who finally pulled away. "We had probably better join everyone else before they send out a search party." With Logan's help, she alighted from the tailgate, took his hand, and began the stroll down to where the rest of the family was studying tall cedars. Her eyes met those of Cassie, who breathed a huge sigh of relief at Becca's equally huge smile.

"Mother, what do you think about this one?" Bud tilted his head back and looked up into the top of a large cedar tree. I think the top of it is shaped about right."

"Oh, Bud. I hate the thought of cutting down such a pretty tree just to get a Christmas tree out of it."

Logan suddenly had an idea. "Charlotte, I could use the lumber from this tree in my shop. A friend of mine has a kiln to dry it, and it would make gorgeous cabinets or furniture."

Becca volunteered her input. "Cassie and I can take some of the lower boughs and make Christmas wreaths with them. There will be enough for everyone in the family to have one, and we could donate the rest to the Boy Scouts in town to sell at their Christmas tree stand in front of the mall."

Satisfied that the rest of the tree would not go to waste, Charlotte smiled and nodded her approval. Bud pulled the cord on the chainsaw and ordered, "Everyone stand back!"

Once the tree was felled, the men cut the top eight feet out to make the Christmas tree. Tom then took the chainsaw and went down the length of the tree removing boughs for the wreaths while Logan and Bud wrestled the tree into the truck. Cassie, Becca, and Charlotte gathered up as many boughs as would fit on the truck. Laura made her own discovery during the process.

"Mommy, what's this?" she asked, pointing to a clump of oddly shaped leaves with white berries.

"That's mistletoe, Laura. We need to save that. It's good luck to kiss someone you love when there's mistletoe over your head," Cassie explained.

Laura grabbed the mistletoe and ran to Tom with it. "Gimme a kiss, Daddy! Mommy said it's for good luck!" She puckered up as Tom obliged his daughter's request.

"Now go kiss Mommy!" He picked up Laura and placed her on his shoulders so she could hold the mistletoe over his and Cassie's heads. Laura continued her orders. "Now Grandma and Grandpa!" She squealed with laughter as the two older McQueens shared their kiss under the mistletoe. "Now Aunt Becca and Logan!"

Becca blushed, but obeyed her niece's orders as she turned to face the widely-smiling Logan. As Tom brought Laura to them, Logan leaned forward and kissed the woman he loved.

*********

On the drive back to Boone that evening, Logan and Becca talked about the events that had transpired that day. Both agreed that it had been, well, interesting. All the things that had happened had left them both exhausted, but their declarations of love for one another had led to a tender calmness between them. Becca moved to the center of the bench seat and laid her head on Logan's shoulder. Things had fallen quiet between them, and a question had arisen in her mind.

"Logan?"

"What is it, sweetie?"

"When you said that you wanted us to be together for a long time, did you mean just a long time, or 'forever' long?

"I meant 'forever' long, Becca. I'm still untangling things in my mind, but that much I know."

Becca breathed a sigh of relief, and also of excited happiness. "Good. I hoped that was what you meant, but I needed to hear it out loud."

Upon their arrival in town, Logan helped Becca with the basket which was, thankfully, much lighter than it had been that morning. Still, they had brought back enough leftovers to feed them for a couple of days. Becca took one of the wreaths she and Cassie had made and hung it on the door to her apartment.

"We need a tree at your place," Becca announced, "but I don't want to ask Daddy to cut another one of his cedars."

"That sounds nice," Logan agreed. "We'll get one from the Boy Scouts. I haven't had a tree since the Christmas before Laura died. I just let myself enjoy the tree at Janice's house. As much as I love Christmas, having a tree at the house was just too painful."

"We could put it here, at the apartment," Becca offered, although she silently hoped they could put it at Logan's house. He read her mind.

"No, we'll put it at my place. Mom and Dad are staying with me since we always do Christmas at Janice's house. They will probably appreciate seeing the place look more festive than it has the past few years. Plus," he added with a wink, "I'm going to need a place to put all your presents, assuming you stay on the nice list, miss elf."

"That sounds nice," Becca said through a smile. She moved close to Logan, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head on his chest. "I can hear your heartbeat," she giggled.

"You give it a reason to keep beating, Becca." He backed away from her slightly, lifted her chin, and kissed her tenderly. It wasn't long before their kisses turned more passionate.

"Careful, Mr. Kringle, or else I'm going to end up on the naughty list," Becca giggled.

"I control who's on the naughty and nice lists, remember? Although," he added sadly, "if I don't go we're both going to end up on the naughty list. Good night, my dearest."

Becca leaned up for one last kiss. "Good night to you, as well, Mr. Mathews. Sweet dreams."

He closed the door behind him and heard Becca turn the lock. Turning and looking at the closed door, he smiled and said quietly, "Good night, future Mrs. Mathews. Sweet dreams to you, as well."

*********

For the first time in their relationship, Becca was angry with Logan. Well, 'angry' was too strong a term, but she was, at the least, irritated with her boyfriend. He had banned his darling elf from the workshop. She knew that he must be building something special for her in there. It wasn't that she wanted to spoil the surprise that awaited her; she just wanted to be a part of his work. Finally, they struck a deal. If Becca would agree to give him a week to finish his special project, he would allow her back into the workshop. The suspense was killing her, but she reluctantly agreed.

Logan's special gift he was building for Becca was a cedar jewelry box. True to his word to Charlotte, he had taken the logs from the cedar tree and had them sawn into lumber and dried in the kiln. He saved some of the end pieces that had been left over for the delicate work. He planed them to 1/4 inch in thickness and assembled a petite box. Using a hobbyist's router, he cut intricate scrollwork around the edges of the piece that would be the lid of the box. In the center of the lid, he cut a delicate rose. This work was tedious and tiresome, and required his complete concentration. As much as he loved the help and suggestions of his darling elf, he did not want to be distracted while doing this detailed work. Even though he worked alone, he still made more than a few mistakes that relegated the cedar pieces to the kindling pile by the stove. Finally, he was satisfied with the results. He assembled and finished the delicate box, then purchased a musical mechanism that played the hauntingly beautiful tune of the music boxes in the Pirates of the Caribbean movie. He declared his work complete and allowed Becca back into the shop with a couple of days to spare on their agreement.

Logan's cabinet business had slowed as it usually did in the two months before Christmas. Still, he had two houses' worth of cabinets completed and waiting to be installed. As the cabinet business slowed, however, the orders for custom woodworking pieces increased. He built bedroom sets, dining room tables and chairs, entertainment centers, desks, and his favorite, baby doll cradles. There were countless baby dolls in and around Boone who slept in cradles Logan had built. He wished he could see the looks on the children's faces when they received their doll cradles. Sometimes his customers would send him photos of the delighted recipients of his work. He posted them on his "bragging board" in the cabinet shop both as a reminder of his creations and as a marketing tool to show potential customers.

He had a special project in mind for Bud and Charlotte: rocking chairs and a swing for their front porch. Becca squealed with delight when he shared his plans with her. Once again using the wood from the cedar tree, he crafted the furniture carefully. He wanted to do his best work for his (hopefully) future in-laws. Using the router, he personalized the chairs with the names "Charlotte" and "Bud" carved into the tops of them. Becca carefully filled in the letters with black paint to make the words stand out. Logan sprayed the chairs with a glossy finish that would both withstand the weather and make them easier to clean when the southern pollen attached itself to them in the spring. As they stood back to admire the finished products, Becca wrapped her arms around Logan's waist and sighed contentedly. He seemed to give her new reasons to love him with each day that passed.

Logan had shopping to do. As much as he loved making things for his family, there were some things that had to be bought. He bought Becca a matching scarf, toboggan, and mitten set, a Ravenclaw hoodie from the Harry Potter books, three of the pop art figures he had seen her looking at in the bookstore, a couple of books, and the coup de gras, a gold necklace with a ruby pendant. She needed something from him to place in her new jewelry box, after all.