Part 16 (2/2)
”Awkward.”
The Messenger chuckled. ”Sounds about right, given all he was going through at the time.”
Ransom said, ”Guess so.” With a wave, Milo moved on, and the teen frowned thoughtfully. ”Huh.”
Prissie peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. ”What?”
He gazed into the starry sky overhead and remarked, ”Crazy dreams, road trip, no vacancies, new baby who's someone else's, and a bunch of shepherds showing up in the middle of the night telling stories about an angel invasion.” With a wry smile at the bundle in Prissie's arms, he muttered, ”Talk about having your life turned upside down.”
Prissie looked skyward as well and wondered how many invisible angels were winging overhead. ”I think it must have been nice ... having angels promise them there was nothing to fear.”
A car horn honked, and they turned in time to see Neil race past, his shepherd's robe flapping as he pursued a pair of bleating sheep. ”Head them off!” he hollered to Tad, who was circling around from the other direction.
Ransom snickered. ”I think I lucked out landing the Joseph schtick. Marcus and the rest of them are playing Little Bo Peep.”
”How long have you and Marcus been friends?”
”About as long as you and me have been not-friends,” he joked. Her lips thinned, and he answered more seriously. ”A couple years ... going on three. I'd just moved here, and we were both new at the same time.”
It was difficult to see anything past the spotlights trained on them, so she couldn't tell where Marcus was. If he was as good with sheep as he was with chickens, she supposed he was doing his part quite well. ”Why are you friends?”
”Why?” he repeated, giving her an odd look. ”Beats me. Just happened that way. How 'bout this, Miss Priss. Why are we not-friends?”
Another car full of kids rolled by, and they paused to smile for another series of camera flashes. Prissie scrambled for an answer but came up empty. As the vehicle moved on, she eyed him skeptically. ”You want to be friends?”
”Dunno,” he replied. ”Maybe. Any reason we shouldn't be?”
She couldn't believe they were having this conversation. ”Are you messing with me just because I can't get away?”
His eyebrows shot up, and then he grinned. ”Gosh, Miss Priss! That's a good point. You're at my mercy.”
”Figures,” she muttered.
”I'm kidding,” he sighed. ”Just humor me and answer the question.”
Prissie gave the baby doll in her arms a gentle pat and swayed as she tried to make sense of Ransom's demand. Finally, she tentatively admitted, ”I don't like you.”
”Yeah, you said so before, but I thought maybe that was changing.” At her sullen look, he pointed out, ”You and Koji pulled me inside that bookstore the other day. Very heroic. Almost friendly.”
She was rescued from answering when a jeep paused in front of the nativity. Its window lowered, and a ringing voice declared, ”Glory to G.o.d in the highest, And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”
Prissie squinted against the lights. ”A-abner?”
”Hey, Mr. Ranger!” Ransom said with a wave. ”And ... other Mr. Ranger.”
Padgett sat forward, a hand upraised in greeting. ”Good evening.”
Abner leaned even further out the jeep's window to gaze at the twinkling stars, ”It is a good evening. Weather cleared up nicely, don't you think?”
”Yes, sir,” his companion patiently agreed. ”However, I was simply greeting Prissie and Ransom.”
”As was I,” the Caretaker retorted.
”Say, Abner!” Prissie dared to call, then ducked her head when she remembered they were in public. ”I mean, Mr. Ochs?”
He peered at her over the top of his gla.s.ses, gray eyes patient and piercing. ”Yes, Miss Pomeroy.”
”Are you good with sheep? My brothers are having herding issues.”
With a wintery smile, he replied, ”As it happens, I do know a thing or two about straying flocks. Fear not, Prissie.”
”Thank you!” she called as they moved along and turned into a vacant parking spot.
”Friends of the family?” Ransom murmured as they smiled for the next carload.
”Friends of mine, actually.” She cringed the moment she realized what she'd said.
”Yours, huh?” He mulled that over for a while before saying, ”I think you broke my brain.”
”Excuse me?”
At that precise moment, the side door of a red minivan slid wide, briefly blasting them with strains of the Nutcracker Suite, and a familiar voice exclaimed, ”Nice togs, Koji! Very ancient nomadic! But where's your flock?”
The young Observer, who was stationed just beyond the corner of the makes.h.i.+ft stable, gravely replied, ”Abner will lead them back.”
”Wagging their tails behind them?” Grinning ear-to-ear, Baird spread his arms wide. ”Prissie! Ransom! You've got that whole re-enactment thing going on! Totally brings back memories! Right, Kester?”
”It is nostalgic,” replied his apprentice, with a nod to each one present.
The other members of Baird's band waved and offered Christmas wishes before moving along, and this time it was impossible to ignore Ransom's hard look. ”Friends of yours?”
”Obviously,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact by attempting to burp her baby.
”What am I missing here?”
His amus.e.m.e.nt made her uncomfortable. ”What do you mean?”
”When it comes to making friends, you draw from a pretty wide range of citizenry. Why am I disqualified?” She tossed her head, and he pressed, ”Did I really blow it that big when I tied your braids together in the sixth grade?”
He was laughing, but his gaze was steady, and Prissie hated being put on the spot. She cast a longing look at Koji, but her good friend was clearly not Sent to her aid. On her own and out of options, she cut to the heart of the matter. ”Habit.”
Ransom's eyebrow quirked. ”Really?”
She faced forward, trying to look like a serene mother instead of a fl.u.s.tered girl. ”It's tradition,” she said defensively. ”That's the way it's always been.”
”Habit,” he reiterated, shaking his head in wonder. ”And here I thought ... huh.”
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