Finding Her Christmas Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  But when he dropped his cheek to her hair, she didn’t want to think about the variables. In the end, she had no choice. If things were different, maybe they could bridge that gap, but right now, it was next to impossible. The last thing she wanted to do was end this embrace, but she did it. “Thank you for that,” she told him, moving back.

  He didn’t let go. He simply loosened his arms. “I like holding you, Sarah.”

  She started to speak, but he quieted her when he leaned his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it, but I want you to know that for all the tough things that have gone on these past few weeks, your presence has become a cornerstone for all of us, so maybe this is part of a plan. Maybe this isn’t an accident of timing because of someone’s horrible decision-making. Maybe, somehow, this was meant to be.”

  “Destiny?” She wasn’t about to buy into that notion. “It’s a pretty convoluted route, don’t you think?”

  “Wasn’t it William Cowper who said the Lord works in mysterious ways?”

  She couldn’t excuse the past wrongs that took her away from her sister so lightly. “I believe that. But that doesn’t mean Jenn and I were meant to be separated. And I wonder if that was her original name or if the Drews changed her name?”

  He frowned. “I never thought of it. And Jenn never said. Would people change the name of a toddler?”

  “I don’t know. My name was Sara and my parents changed the spelling, but kept the name. Mom said she’d always dreamed of having a little girl named Sarah, so when I arrived, I was a dream come true.”

  “I bet you were. I know the Drews felt the same way about Jenn, but that doesn’t make it right, does it?”

  “No.” She tugged her coat on and looped her scarf around her neck. “I’m not blind to the joy of the situation, and these girls are a huge part of that. So maybe things do happen for a reason. Eventually.” She moved toward the door and he followed her.

  “Would you come with me to see the rehab center in Ellensburg tomorrow?” he asked. “We’re sending the cows to auction on Monday, so if I’m going to push for this, tomorrow would be best. I’d like you with me. To offer your opinion.”

  “What about Kyle?”

  “I’ll call him. He said he was going to be tied up most of the day, but that he’d be on the ranch the rest of the weekend. Even if he’s available, I want a professional opinion on things.”

  “Even if the profession is about a hundred degrees removed from geriatrics?”

  “Let me rephrase this.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked straight at her. “I want your opinion, Sarah. If you wouldn’t mind.”

  She wouldn’t mind, but she’d be careful about pushing one way or another. She’d already done her share of that, and this decision should be Calloway, 100 percent. And given Roy’s stubborn nature, she wasn’t sure her advice was worth much, but she’d watched her parents deal with her grandfather’s struggle. While the decisions were tough, they had to be made, and she’d hate to see this wonderful family make the wrong one.

  Chapter Ten

  Renzo Calloway had looked danger in the face numerous times as a county sheriff’s deputy. In all these years he’d rarely quaked, but the thought of putting his father into a hated situation made his hands tremble now. Did he have the right to push for this? Was his dad up for the fight or was Renzo imposing his will on a critically ill man? Opposing arguments rattled around in his mind as he pulled into the highly acclaimed rehabilitation facility and parked the car the next morning.

  Sarah rounded the hood and slung her purse over her shoulder. Then she took his hand.

  She hadn’t worn gloves, and the feel of her soft skin against his calloused hands seeped strength into him. She squeezed his hand lightly. “Let’s see what they’ve got, okay? If you go in with an open mind, the confusion about choices might clear right up.”

  He walked through the automatic doors, her hand in his, and when they left over an hour later, he’d found his resolve after seeing videos of several patients who shared stories about their time at the rehab center. Renzo was convinced. Now the task would be convincing his mother and his stubborn and fearful father.

  “There’s a coffee shop about five minutes from here,” he told Sarah as they walked back to the car. “I’d like a chance to talk before we get back to the girls. Coffee’s on me,” he added with a little bump to her shoulder.

  “Cute guy buying me coffee? And time to actually relax and enjoy it? Twist my arm.” She smiled up at him as he reached down to open the passenger-side door for her.

  He swung the door open. She stepped by him to get into the vehicle, then paused and turned his way. She indicated the open door with a smile. “I can’t tell you the last time someone opened a car door for me, Renzo, but it was probably my father and I was most likely in a booster seat.”

  “Then the men in Seattle are just plain stupid. And I’m okay with that.” He matched her smile with his. The wind and rain had disappeared overnight, and the late November day was cold but dry. The sun shone down on her pretty hair, and the shades of gold reflected its light. “Did you know your hair shimmers in the sun?”

  She didn’t move to get into the car. She stayed right there, gazing up at him, and when she spoke, her voice was soft. “Does it, Renzo?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He reached out and gently ran his fingers over her hair. “It’s beautiful, Sarah. Like you.”

  Her eyes searched his. He met her gaze, then dropped his eyes to her lips, not wanting to wonder anymore. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was kissing Sarah Brown. When he was done kissing her, the first thought on his mind was wondering when he could kiss her again.

  He held her close for sweet moments before letting her go. The freshly washed scent of her hair settled over him. Yes, things were fairly impossible right now, but if God granted them time, maybe they could figure this out.

  “Do you know what I think?” she asked him from the curve of his arm.

  “That we just shared the best kiss of all time and it put all movie kisses to shame?”

  She laughed softly. “That was my first thought, of course. Mom’s with the girls and it’s hard to know when we can get away together, alone. Can we figure out what we’d like to do for the girls for Christmas? You can share your traditions and I can plan around them. I don’t want to mess up anything that’s in the works, but I do want to be part of their Christmas.”

  Planning Christmas with her didn’t just seem right. It seemed perfect. “I think that’s a great idea. And the girls’ schedule in December ramps up because the preschool does a Christmas play and the girls are supposed to be part of the angel choir.”

  “I can’t even imagine the sweetness factor.” She smiled up at him, then climbed into the car. He did the same. He drove to the coffee shop, ordered their drinks and added two slices of the shop’s famous carrot cake to the order.

  “Brunch,” he explained when he set the cake in front of her. “Anything with carrots in it has to be healthy, right?”

  “Logical,” she assured him, a big grin on her face. “Before we talk about Christmas, tell me how traumatic Monday will be. When the ridiculously big animals you all call calves go off to market.”

  He cringed slightly. “Chloe won’t care. Naomi and Kristi might cry. The reality of raising beef hits those two harder, but it doesn’t stop them from eating hamburgers and chicken. And we’ve always thought it was better for kids to understand where food comes from—”

  “Locally sourced and farm fresh,” she cut in.

  “Both accurate. My mom said that Kyle and I never much worried about the outcome, but it seems little girls are different. Except our Chloe who pretends to be pragmatic in all things, but is the defendant of the underdog. Anyway, it won’t be too bad. They have preschool in the morning, and the ca
lves should be loaded before they get home. The babies start dropping in mid-January, and all three of them get wide-eyed over that.”

  “Do you?”

  “A big, rugged cop like me?” He made a face at her and she laughed. “I suppose I do. There’s something amazing about helping an animal into the world. Looking out for the calf and the mother. If the mother doesn’t want to kill me,” he added. He smiled at her look of surprise. “Not all cows are quiet, benevolent creatures when a cowboy messes with their newborn. Some of them take maternal instinct to a whole new level.”

  “I’d have never thought of that. Is it dangerous?”

  “Not once you’ve been sideswiped by an angry mama,” he assured her. “A smart cowboy keeps a feed crib or a truck between him and possessive mothers. It’s best, all around. But wrestling baby cows into the world can’t hold a candle to what you do, Sarah. You save lives, every day. The tiniest of lives. I can’t even imagine. Chloe and Naomi were just over four pounds when they were born. They were ridiculously small, but then Kristi was three pounds six ounces and needed an extra few weeks in the hospital to gain ground and come home. But I saw babies half the size of Chloe and Naomi and I couldn’t believe it.” He didn’t try to hide his amazement. “How do you handle a baby that small? That fragile? I am in awe, Sarah.”

  * * *

  She blew over her coffee to cool it before she answered. “I thought I was going to be a pediatrician like Mom. That was always the goal. But one tour of the NICU and I was hooked. It’s different medicine because everything has to be miniaturized. From the meds to the equipment, to the visual aspects. Everything is so very tiny. There is nothing big and obvious and easy to treat about preemies, but the challenge called to me,” she went on. “Because I saw the opportunity to make parents happy. To give them the happy ending they wanted so badly. It was as if I knew I’d be good at it. And I am,” she told him but added, “but it’s never about me because the NICU is a team. It’s like the workings of a Swiss watch, intricate gears that keep life going, and having a whole team that knows what to do if something goes wrong. And every Christmas we decorate the NICU with cards and letters and pictures of our success stories. Those parents never forget how we all worked together to save their babies. I thank God every day that He gave me the skills to do what I do. Even if I can’t cook,” she finished to lighten the moment.

  “Amazing.”

  “It is. By the way, this cake is wonderful. Is this why you brought me here? Because there are a dozen coffee shops in Ellensburg. I know. I looked because knowing how to feed my coffee habit is key.”

  He laughed. “They are famous for it. But it was mostly the coffee. Best blend around. So. Christmas?”

  “Yes. I have to be back at work on the twenty-sixth.”

  “And my leave goes until January 3, so I have an extra week. I’m not sure how we’ll organize things, but if Dad is back here, that would make some things easier. Here’s the schedule my mom texted me now that Thanksgiving is over.”

  He swiped his phone and handed her the device. When she read the schedule, her eyes rounded in exaggerated surprise. “This isn’t a schedule. This is a marathon.”

  “Agreed. I have to say I never realized how daunting this whole thing was until she sent me this text. So what you’re looking at includes their school play and practices, their Christmas picture, two family holiday parties, a tree-lighting ceremony that honors veterans because my dad and his dad were both veterans, and then you throw in normal life on top of it. Oh, and breakfast with Santa, midmonth.”

  “What happened to the simplicity of peace on Earth, good will toward men?” she asked, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Renzo, I’m sorry. That sounded critical, and I didn’t mean it to be.”

  He didn’t look offended. He sipped his coffee and agreed. “I think you’re right. I was always working so I didn’t realize how tied up the schedule got because Mom was amazing at handling it all. And she always coordinated the breakfast with Santa, but I passed that off to one of the other ladies in town who took it over happily.”

  “Can we simplify things?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we, I mean, with all that’s going on? Would that insult your mother?”

  “I wish it wouldn’t, but I think it would. She’s trying so hard to re-create the life they might have had with their mother, and she’s always afraid they’ll miss something. Maybe to excess.”

  It did seem excessive. Nothing anyone could do would make up for the fact that the girls lost their mother before they even had a chance to know her. The busy schedule didn’t allow time for the girls to just be kids. Wouldn’t they lose the true meaning of Christmas in all the busyness?

  “And their birthday party is scheduled for the second Saturday in December. I can’t believe they’re going to be four years old.”

  “I’ve never planned a kids’ birthday party, and I haven’t been a kid in a long time,” she told him. “Who comes? Who gets invited?”

  “Oh, there’s a list for that, as well.” He swiped past the current page to reveal a list of twenty-two names. “I don’t even know who half these kids are.”

  Twenty-two kids? She tried to hide a cringe. “You have to invite them all? For real?”

  “I guess.” He stared at the list, then brought his attention back to Sarah. “We can do this. I know that. And we can’t disappoint my mother, not right now, but it doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of time to just have fun, does it?”

  “Or to be prayerful,” she replied. “Or just plain grateful. Isn’t Advent supposed to be a season of waiting?”

  He frowned. “Of course, but there are always Christmas traditions. Aren’t there?”

  There were, but this schedule thrust the girls into every possible holiday trope that existed, except the ones that mattered the most. Giving of themselves.

  “You hate this.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t. I’m just surprised that there’s so much in a month that’s already got a lot going on.”

  “We can’t disappoint her, Sarah.”

  “You’re right.” She wouldn’t argue with him. It would be pointless and it wasn’t her place, and if this is what Gina wanted for the girls, she had no right to say otherwise. And yet the agenda frustrated her. Yes, the girls were young, but they were also at an impressionable stage. Would they be able to embrace a simpler kind of holiday spirit with her? Or would they resent the changes if they eventually lived with her? And therefore resent her?

  “If it gives Mom peace of mind right now, I’ve got to follow through on this.”

  He didn’t say we. Funny how that shifted so quickly. She handed the phone back to him again. “Of course.”

  He regarded her quietly as he slipped the phone into his pocket. Gone was the sweetness of that first kiss. Gone was the camaraderie of handling things together. Clearly she wasn’t allowed to inject her opinion or change the agenda to something more spiritual and even more personal for the girls.

  For now.

  The thought sobered her. It brought to mind her reason for being here, to gain custody of her sister’s children. Not to kiss really nice detectives, or to fret over a distraught woman’s infertility issues.

  She’d taken time off and come east to stake a claim, and it would be foolish to lose sight of that now. There would be other Christmases, less fraught with fear and emotion. Right now, she’d do what she needed to do to keep things calm, but what she really wished was for their normal to be more like hers.

  There wasn’t anything she could really do about that for this year, but the girls’ future?

  That was a whole other thing.

  * * *

  He’d disappointed Sarah.

  Renzo pondered that all the way back to Seattle. Kyle wasn’t able to go with him. He didn’t ask why. He was getting tired of his brother’s excuses and negativity, so instead of as
king if tomorrow would be a better day, he got into his SUV and headed west.

  You’re being a jerk.

  He was and he knew why; because he’d seen the frustration in Sarah’s eyes and he couldn’t disagree with it. And yet given the situation, he wasn’t about to change it, either, so there he was, stuck in the middle. While trying to make one person happy, he was disappointing another, when the whole purpose of the silly list was to make the girls happy. In the end it would most likely make them tired and fractious. Kind of like him right now.

  He got to the hospital in the late afternoon. His mother and Aunt Shelly were in his father’s room. His mother was fussing at his father about refusing physical therapy when Renzo walked in. Aunt Shelly looked frustrated, his mother was distraught and his father seemed stuck-in-the-mud stubborn, which wasn’t unlike some cows he knew. And himself, some days.

  He pulled up a chair for his mother, another for Aunt Shelly, then said his piece. “According to the doctors, we’ve got two choices, Dad. But based on your stubbornness and unwillingness to help yourself, we’re going to be down to one choice, real quick,” he told his father. “And you are absolutely going to hate it, so maybe it’s time to change things up.”

  Roy scowled at him. He waved his better hand, but didn’t try to talk although he did manage a most convincing growl.

  “I know you’re mad. I see it all over your face,” Renzo acknowledged. “You got dealt a rough hand, and I’m sorry about that. We all are. We’d change it if we could, but we can’t. If you’re willing to throw in the towel and say ‘This is it,’ then so be it. That’s your choice,” Renzo stressed, and he had to ignore the way his heart tugged when he read the hopelessness in his father’s eyes. “But you have already defied really high odds by making it this far. They’ve done some pretty impressive repairs to your heart and brain, but if you don’t do your part, then your worst fear is about to be realized and you’ll end up in a skilled nursing facility, waiting to die.”