Chapter Text
Thank goodness the fireplace actually works, Cady thought, straightening the new curtains in her drafty office. Snow had started to pile up on the windowsills, making her glad that the legal aid center’s inaugural Christmas party had already happened yesterday — she didn’t want to be responsible for making sure the rest of her staff made it home in this weather. She was alone in the little house, attending to all the odd tasks that she hadn’t completed during the week, grateful for the quiet.
She gathered up some files from her inbox, leafing through them to see which ones she needed to make copies of. The door opened and she heard someone tap the snow off their shoes, honestly surprised that it had taken this long for someone to mistakenly assume the legal aid center was open today. Calling out some half-explanation-half-apology, she stepped carefully around her desk and leaned through the doorway. The sight of Jacob Nighthorse brushing snow from his wool coat almost made her laugh, probably something to do with the dusting of snowflakes still caught in his hair. She stuck her hands in her pockets, tempted out of all reason to sweep them away before they melted.
Jacob removed his gloves and looked over the empty office. “I see you gave everyone the day off.” She couldn’t tell from his neutral tone of voice whether he disapproved of her executive decision, or was just observing.
“Well, we had our office Christmas thing yesterday, and half the staff was going to take today off anyway, so.” She shrugged and returned to her office to finish her task. The hum and whirr of the copier filled the lull between them.
Following behind her, Jacob looked up, then pointedly at Cady. “Trying to scare up a few harassment suits to fill your spare time?” He indicated the decoration on the lintel of the doorway.
Not for the first time, she noticed that the sprig of mistletoe had been put back in her office, and she gave Jacob an apologetic smile. “That? No, I think it’s Mandy’s attempt at subtlety in matchmaking.” She continued sorting the pages in her hands. “She didn’t… have anyone in mind, or anything, she’s just —“ Cady shrugged, at a loss to explain her assistant’s logic.
“Showing initiative?” He placed his briefcase on top of a filing cabinet and leaned against it while he watched her putter about the office, an inquisitive half-smile on his face.
“Yeah, something like that.” She put another set of documents in the copier. “So, did you just stop by to wish us all a Merry Christmas?”
Jacob’s briefcase clicked open. “Not the only reason. I came to drop off the year-end bonus checks in person, but I guess you’ll have to hand them out on Monday. Unless that’s another unofficial holiday,” he said, handing Cady a small stack of envelopes. She toyed with a sarcastic remark, perhaps invoking Ebenezer Scrooge, but in the end just shook her head. “Yours is in there too,” he said, turning back to his open briefcase, “but I thought that was a little impersonal, so… I got you something else as well.” She looked up from locking her center desk drawer, smiling in mild surprise as she took a small red-wrapped package from his hand. From the weight and dimensions, it was most likely a book. She wasn’t sure why she felt so relieved. Perhaps because his other gift — or gifts, if she counted the legal aid center itself — had turned out a bit more complicated than she’d thought.
“I feel bad now, I didn’t get you anything.” She wrinkled her brow and gave him a regretful look which he dismissed with a half-smile and a shake of his head.
“I didn’t expect you to. Besides, there’s everything you do here,” he said, gesturing vaguely around the office.
“Yeah, that’s… kind of what you pay me for.” An idle fragment of her mind raced, trying to think of anything that might have made an appropriate gift for him. A plant, perhaps, although she knew that was a cop-out. He was so self-contained, which she supposed was part of what fascinated her. Apart from his professional life, which was mysterious enough, she found that she knew far less about him than she’d like.
“Not everything’s a transaction, Cady,” he replied. Momentarily worried that she had seemed ungrateful, she looked down at her desk.
“Do you — should I open it now, or wait?”
“Up to you.” Unable to resist the lure of wrapping paper, she slid one finger carefully under the tape on the end of the package until it tore free. Inside was a smooth, navy-blue paperback bearing a faded white feather on the front cover along with the title: Ceremony. The back cover’s endorsements read like a Who’s Who of Native American literature. She was intrigued. “I read it at an… impressionable time in my life. Thought you might find it interesting.”
“Thank you.” She ran her hand over the soft, matte cover. “I’m sure I will.”
He shut his briefcase, slid it off of its perch and strolled towards the door. Intending to follow behind and lock up after him, Cady turned around the corner of her desk a bit too fast, stopping short and nearly colliding with him in the doorway. Feeling the support of the doorjamb behind her, she looked over at Jacob, first awkwardly, then matching his curious, playful expression. Neither of them moved, and Cady noticed how the remaining snow had melted into a shimmer of water droplets on the shoulder of his coat. Her eyes darted up to the cluster of green hanging above them, and she fluttered her eyelashes ironically, unable to keep her mouth from curling up into an impish grin. Jacob looked as though he was formulating an objection, thoughtfully running phrases through his mind, but at some point he seemed to settle his thoughts, studying her with a keen, angled gaze. She, too, had resolved on this most unlikely act, and moved haltingly towards him, still trying to give him ample room to turn aside at the last moment. It would probably turn out to be a perfunctory, even grudging contact, in any case, she thought as they drew towards each other with gravitational inevitability.
Her eyes shut of their own accord, and she noticed at first how his lips had the same smooth, powdery slipperiness of a new book’s cover. As the reality of the kiss dawned on her, she felt herself soften and lean in, his hand at the side of her face a warm and tacit consent. It made plain what had until that moment been carried by symbols, by long, quiet looks, and by trusting confessions. She heard her own breath between kisses, noticeable in the close space they had created, and smelled some clean, unidentified scent, ironed cloth and snow and skin. The gentle, exploratory pressure of his mouth on hers felt like it hid a restrained eagerness, although Cady thought later that she might’ve been projecting.
Jacob’s fingertips traced down the side of her neck, coming to rest at her collarbone, his thumb casually fitting the hollow at the base of her throat. As if a secret door had opened suddenly in front of her, she drew back, blushing, watchful. His face showed only that he hid his shock better than she did, although not completely. He stepped out of the doorway into the front room, staring at the dying fire, buttoning his coat. “Well,” he said at length, and a knowing look passed between them, Cady still a bit wide-eyed, Jacob more apprehending. “Don’t work too late, the roads are getting treacherous.”
After he left, she watched by the door for a few minutes, clouding the thin glass with her breath, wondering whether that had really just happened.
* * *
At home, Cady had thoroughly ensconced herself in seasonal coziness. She’d taken Jacob’s sage advice and left the office before the storm hit its stride, and had spent the last few hours listening to all of her Christmas CDs on repeat and wrapping presents for her extended family. She’d even put on pajamas, conceding that she probably wouldn’t leave the house until tomorrow. Presents wrapped and dinner eaten, she had settled herself in front of the television with a mug of hot cocoa and a blanket, watching an old favorite.
All evening, she’d been absently checking her phone, trading greetings with out-of-town friends and watching the occasional video of someone’s cat being a little too curious about the tree. She’d been successful at controlling her impulse to call Jacob, to chase down the mystery and spell everything out. It never worked, although it annoyed her to have to act like prey in this peculiar game; she didn’t do well with uncertainty. So when her phone rang and the screen showed his name, she felt strange, like she had dialed his number without knowing, betrayed by her subconscious. She paused the movie and picked up, reminding herself that phones didn’t work that way (yet).
“Jacob. Hi.” Nine-thirty on a holiday weekend was a little late for business, she thought, although it wouldn’t be out of character.
“Hey.” She tried to read something into his customarily smooth tone of voice, but it wasn’t much to go on. “I just wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”
“I did, yeah. Thanks. It wasn’t too bad, I left about a half hour after you did.”
“Good, I’m glad. I imagine with this weather, you didn’t spend the rest of the day doing any last-minute Christmas shopping.”
“No, no. I left all my wrapping for today, though, so it was kind of a full afternoon.”
“Let me guess, now you’re curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine and a plate of cookies, watching It’s a Wonderful Life.” She could hear a warm grin of vicarious pleasure in his voice underneath the gentle mockery, and it made her laugh, glad to be able to dismiss the awkwardness between them for a moment.
“Alright, not a bad guess, but no cookies, hot cocoa and The Lion in Winter, thank you very much.”
She heard a hum of recognition. “Very high-culture of you. I always forget that’s set at Christmas.”
“Technically. It’s so cynical, though, I can never get anyone to watch it with me in season.” A lull formed between them, and Cady figured this was as good a chance as any to clear up potential misunderstandings. “Listen, I should apologize for this afternoon, I know that was completely unprofessional and inappropriate of me, and if it made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
Silence as Jacob composed his response. “I’ve got at least an equal share of the blame there, especially if I… made more of your gesture than you intended.”
“No,” Cady countered, reassuring. “No, that was — accurate, I guess. Just unexpected.”
“Yeah,” he sighed in tentative resignation. In the brief pause, Cady assumed they were both sorting out their thoughts on the matter.
“Good, though,” she prompted, a question lurking in her voice.
“Very.” She wondered at Jacob’s ability to imbue one word with such inviting warmth and depth.
She nestled into the cushions behind her with smiling satisfaction. “So, no regrets, then?”
“Well. I suppose I’d regret if it never happened again, but I’d survive. If you think it would compromise your ethics… I’d rather not lose you as a professional ally in the long term.” This sounded well-considered, and Cady wondered whether he was right, that this would compromise her somehow. He wasn’t a client, though, and since she was already running the legal aid center, she could hardly be accused of sleeping her way to the top. If she found herself going easier on him as a defendant — here, she was reminded of several pending cases involving the casino — well, she found the notion unlikely, but she’d cross that bridge when she got there. “If that’s the way it needs to be, I can accept it.”
She found this a charming gesture of good faith, which only encouraged her. “It doesn’t, I don’t think. I’d really like to… see where this goes.” Not the most eloquent response, but she hoped it got the point across.
“You know, I’m tempted to ask if you wouldn’t mind some company this evening,” Jacob said, echoing a thought that had also sprung to Cady’s mind, “but with the roads the way they are — and I think we both have busy weekends ahead of us, it’s probably not great timing.” Maddeningly practical, but she had to admit she agreed. “Why don’t you let me take you to dinner sometime, after the chaos has died down?”
She was amused by this formality, unsure whether it was a generational difference, a gesture of respect, or some of both. “I’d like that.”
“I look forward to it, then.” They both seemed to rest in this decision for a moment, a saddle-point in the graph, temporary stability while they said their hesitant goodnights, edges roughened by new and uncertain intimacy.
After she hung up, Cady stretched out to her full length on the couch, feeling the slight weight of the phone against her heart, staring at the ceiling as the waves of her worries crashed in on her anew. On the one hand, had she just scuttled her entire legal career? What was she thinking, willingly throwing herself into this kind of conflict of interest? On the other, what if everything her father had told her about Jacob Nighthorse was true, and this was just another step towards becoming inextricably complicit in his criminal activities? Or even if he was innocent, wouldn’t this be just the excuse the sheriff needed to find some bias-driven reason to put him in jail, or worse?
Unable to answer her own questions, she attempted to clear them from her mind with another woman’s story. She’d stopped the film in the middle of a bitterly sarcastic monologue by the aging Eleanor of Aquitaine to her three scheming sons, and Cady generally appreciated the irony. Tonight, however, it fell on her ear with a more sincere resonance.
“— can't we love one another just a little? That's how peace begins. We have so much to love each other for. We have such possibilities, my children. We could change the world.”