A Hero's Christmas Hope (Holidays in Heart Falls #3) - Arend, Vivian
1
December 1, somewhere on Highway 22x, Alberta
Madison Joy cranked up the volume right as the drum solo hit, the deep bass reverberating throughout the interior of her car. She bopped her head decisively, dancing in her seat even as she resisted the urge to play a set of air drums.
As much fun as wielding invisible drumsticks would be, darkness had fallen hours ago, and with the iffy winter road conditions, two hands on the wheel was a far smarter idea.
Satisfying the urge to move by continuing to wiggle enthusiastically, she peeked at the expected arrival time on the GPS.
“Woo-hoo. Look at that. ‘Less than twenty minutes from your destination.’”
Headlights appeared over the hill as a truck barreled toward her. Its lights flicked from high to low a second later than they should’ve, and Madison’s eyes watered as she narrowed her gaze against the glare.
Nighttime driving had never been her thing. Or maybe she was just reaching her limit for the day. Considering it was a thirteen-hour drive from Vancouver to Heart Falls, she’d been on the road since very early that morning.
Still, one entire audiobook and a whole lot of music had helped pass the time, and now she was closing in on the next important part of her new adventure.
Madison turned down the music and sighed happily as she relaxed into her seat. Ten years ago, her college education had been cut short when her dad was killed in an accident and her mom fell into a deep, dark depression. With two much-younger brothers potentially being dropped into social services, Madison had stepped in and taken over raising them.
She never regretted it, but now that they were grown up and her mom was doing well, it was time to move on.
Her phone went off, and she hit answer via Bluetooth. “Miss me?” she asked Little Brother Number One.
“Never.” At eighteen, Joe’s voice still edged into youthful innocence at times. “Since you told me not to text while you were driving, I had to call. Where’d you hide the air popper?”
“Oh, so you can live without me but not your popcorn?”
“Damn right,” he agreed.
“Joseph Maxwell Joy, no swearing in this house.”
Madison snickered as her mother’s voice rang in the background. “Yeah, Joseph. No swearing,” Madison teased.
He laughed. “Any ideas on the popper, Mad?”
“Try the front hall closet,” she suggested. “What are you guys watching tonight?”
“Kyle wants to start a Lord of the Rings marathon.”
“Again? And on a Tuesday night?” Good grief. “Well, thankfully I’m not there to have to join you.”
“But you totally would have, and you’d have ended up reciting every Gandalf speech verbatim, so thanks for not being here and making us witness that. Again.”
“Brat.”
“Found the popper. Front closet.” Joe lowered his voice. “And don’t tell anyone else, but I do miss you. But we’re all glad you’re gone—not only because I’m taking over your room, but because you deserve to have some fun.”
“Yeah, driving cross-Canada is going to be a blast,” she drawled. “Saskatchewan will be a thrill a minute.”
“Who’s the brat now?”
She laughed. “Give Mom a hug, punch Kyle for me, and call me again, but not until tomorrow. Jeez, you’re so needy.”
“Love ya, Mad.” He hung up, leaving her with a warm glow of happiness inside.
She could picture the activity at home. Her mom had obviously hauled the second of her eighteen-year-old twins in to help clean up after dinner. Joe would make an enormous batch of popcorn, and all of them would crowd around the TV. Impossibly long, teenage-boy legs would be propped up on the coffee table. Butter and salt scents on the air, and the movie turned up loud enough to make the walls vibrate.
Home.
Madison might have poked Joe about missing her already, but the truth was the knot in her belly said she was the one feeling left out. Which was a terrible and weird thing, since she also felt happy and excited.
Emotions were so damn complicated.
While she’d been talking with Joe, the light hint of snow had thickened. It whipped past her window, huge flakes catching in the headlights and turning the road ahead into a blur.
She caught herself mid-sigh, the noise turning into something between a hiccup and a laugh. Time for a pep talk.
“You’re headed to see one of your best friends in the whole wide world, and you got another full month before you start your new job. From where you’re sitting, life is looking fine.”
Bonus: her GPS announced she was closing in on her final destination.