“Some sort of vacation?” Devon continued, not noticing Luke’s fleeting reaction. “Mountain getaway?”
“Sabbatical.” Luke lifted his finger into the air to draw the attention of the waitress that rushed past, carrying a tray full of food for other customers. She didn’t even make eye contact.
“Cowboy sabbatical? Now that doesn’t sound right. Not at all. We gotta come up with a different name for that.” Devon thumbed at his wiry beard. “How about ‘ranch hand respite’? Got a better ring to it, right?”
It did sound better, but it was a lie all the same.
“Ranch hand respite. I like it.”
“So what exactly does a respite involve? Lots of reading? Staring at the lake? Yoga?” Devon took a drink of his beer which was almost gone. “Gotta be honest with you, brother, I’m not one to relax so I’m not even sure how it’s supposed to go. Do you have to meditate or something like that? Do deep breathing exercises and wear lots of spandex?”
Luke and Devon were obviously cut from the same cloth. Luke didn’t know how to let his mind and body rest either, never had. There really wasn’t any time for it back home with duties starting at sunup and lasting well after sundown, when the night air was deep and bitter and cut through him, carving at his lungs and prickling his fingertips with frostbite. Even when chores and farm work were done, his muscles didn’t slowly ease out of their fatigued state. They shut off completely when he collapsed into bed. That wasn’t considered rest, that was necessity. Luke had two switches—ON and OFF, without any pause button between.
When he’d been engaged to Kiara, she kept him busy in any small amount of downtime that he would’ve had. There was always a schedule and she made sure he adhered to it. They even shared online calendars, where the day’s events would pop up on their smartphones in varying colors, all coded for specific activities. Meals were yellow. Errands were red. Activities were blue. Quality time was green. Work was orange.
When she’d gone ahead and planned their honeymoon, Luke figured it would just look like a similar version of their days at home. He was along for the ride, which didn’t bother him until the day she’d decided to put the brakes on it all.
“Truth be told, I don’t really know how to relax either. Let’s just say, I’m not glad Bessie broke down, but it’ll give me something to fill the hours, at least.”
The frazzled waitress rushed by again and Luke shot out a hand to call her over, but like before, he went unnoticed. It looked like he wasn’t going to get that dessert he craved.
Devon threw back the last swallow of his drink and settled the empty glass onto the table. “You know, if you’re looking for something to keep you busy, there’s a project I’m working on that I could definitely use some help with. I don’t want to monopolize your time, but I’m to the point where I’ve done all I can do with just one set of hands. I could pay you a little bit—not much—but it’ll be worth your effort. What’d’ya think?”
Luke liked the idea of earning some extra cash to help cover the cost of Bessie’s tow and repairs. To him, it sounded like a great offer, but maybe because it was the only one he had. “Sounds fantastic. Count me in.”
7
Jolene
JOLENE HAD EXACTLY three hours until her sister’s family would arrive and approximately six hours’ worth of cleaning left to do. The math didn’t pencil and the house was a mess. Not by Jolene’s standards, but certainly by Rose’s. If the fireplace mantle didn’t pass the white glove test, the house was considered a pigsty. Jolene often found it hard to believe the two women came from the same family, there were so many differences between them.
It didn’t help that Rose thought all animals belonged outside, either. The first Christmas Jolene owned Ace had been an interesting one. When Rose headed to the spare bedroom to put away her luggage and get settled for her stay, only to find Ace snuggled up on the queen-sized bed as he customarily did, the shriek Rose squealed let her distaste be loudly known.
“Wolf!” she’d hollered. Immediately, Jolene and Rose’s husband, Patrick, rushed to her aid, startled by the screaming from the back of the house. Rose stood in the doorframe, suitcase held up as a shield between her and Jolene’s new pet. “Jolie, why is there a wild animal in your bedroom?”
Ace just grunted and rolled over, bringing his paw up to his ear in what Jolene was sure was an effort to block out Rose’s ignorant chatter.
“He’s my dog, Rosie. His name’s Ace. I’ve had him for about six months now.”
“Your dog?” Rose’s face was scrunched so tight it looked like she smelled something rancid. “Why on earth would you keep a dog in the house?”
“Because it’s where he lives,” Jolene had reasoned.
“And why doesn’t he live in a dog house?” Rose questioned. “See? They make little houses specifically for these kinds of creatures.”
That episode wasn’t an isolated one. Every time Rose would visit and see a rogue dust bunny caught in the corner or blowing innocently across the floor, she’d turn up her nose, making sure Jolene noticed her disapproval. She’d asked Jolene if she could borrow a lint roller so many times that Jolene now left one on the guest room nightstand for her sister to use during visits. Her sister was a neat freak of the obsessive and compulsive variety, but Jolene didn’t mind. She knew they had a different way of living and that was okay. People were allowed their quirks. Heaven knew Jolene had plenty of them.
JOLENE WAS STILL running the vacuum when she saw the van pull into her driveway. For as opposite as they were, Jolene sure loved the time she got to spend with her sister. And now that she was an aunt, she coveted the time with her little niece, Ava. It had been six months since their last visit and that was much too long to wait for adorable baby snuggles.
Flipping the vacuum switch off and tightening her frizzy ponytail by tugging on two sections of her hair, Jolene readied herself for company. She could hear her sister and brother-in-law squabbling outside about who would bring in the playpen and she decided she needed to intervene. Traveling with an infant couldn’t be easy. She felt for them and the three-hour drive they’d just embarked upon. It sounded like they could certainly use a little help.
“Welcome to Merrylark, family!” Jolene bellowed as she bounded down the steps toward the silver minivan. “How were your travels?”
Rose was in the middle of unlatching Ava from her infant carrier. She handed the towheaded baby off to her husband and looked at her sister. “Noisy. And smelly. Excruciatingly smelly.”
“Ava had a blowout on highway 42,” Patrick explained.
Jolene joined them in the driveway and reached over to Patrick to gather her niece from his arms. “Better than your tire having one, I suppose.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Rose groaned. She pulled an enormous floral-printed diaper bag from the back seat and then clicked the automatic sliding door shut with her key fob. “For such a sweet little thing, she sure can make a terrible stink. Think skunk and decomposed fish, with a sprinkling of rotten milk. Seriously, I don’t know what on earth her parents are feeding her,” Rose deadpanned. Jolene was grateful her sister could make light of it all. Motherhood had unwound a little of her tight personality and that was a good thing. “She’s due for a bath and I’m due for a drink.”
“I think we can arrange for both,” Jolene said, smiling.
Jolene followed her younger sister into the house. Patrick made several trips back to the van to collect the remaining things they would need for their stay. It was amazing what light packers the two used to be when they were childless, but now with an infant it looked like they had plans to move in. High chair, play pen, portable crib, walker. You name it, they brought it. Jolene loved it, actually. While her home always felt comfortable—cozy and warm—it lacked people, family. The sounds of laughter and life. Hers was a quiet one. Sure, she talked to Ace and sometimes he would bark out his response, but the clatter and chatter of voices was absent from her house and she missed that. Ached for it
even.
“Sorry a baby store just exploded in here, Jo,” Patrick said as he shut the front door behind him. He carried three stuffed animals in his arms, all various shades of pink. “I would love to say something like, ‘You won’t even notice us,’ but we all know that’s a blatant lie. We’re pretty much a traveling circus at this point. Looks like we’re moving in, not just staying two short nights.”
“No apologizing, Patrick. You know I love it when you guys come to stay.” Jolene squeezed her brother-in-law’s arm and grabbed one of the stuffed toys to give to Ava. “I’ll take any time I can get.”
Patrick was a good man, the very best for her sister. Where Rose could be erratic, Patrick was consistent. They’d met in law school, fallen in love, graduated and passed the bar, and gotten married all within the span of a year. It was fast and intense, much like her sister’s personality, so no less could be expected. But Patrick was level-headed and steady. He dressed smartly, gave generously, and brought Rose back down to earth when her thoughts and compulsions carried her too far off. It was wonderful to have someone like that in the family, a patriarch of sorts. Though the sisters’ father had been gone for nearly fifteen years now, that void remained. Patrick was doing a great job filling it, as much as he was able to, at least. That meant the world to the Carter women.
“When’s mom coming?” Rose called out from the kitchen. She had a plastic tub of baby bottle pieces that she had unpacked and then stacked on a drying mat on the counter.
“She’s not.” Jolene crouched onto the floor, settling Ava down next to her. She knew this was likely pushing it for her sister, what with all the invisible dog hair. Sometimes she figured it was better to ask forgiveness than permission and she’d take her chances on this one.
“Mom’s not coming?” Rose froze. Her voice jumped two octaves. “Why on earth not? What could possibly be more important than her annual Christmas celebration with her only daughters?”
“An all-expense paid cruise to the Bahamas with Carl.”
Patrick chuckled. “Good for Mary, that little vixen.”
“One,” Rose held up a finger and waggled it at her husband, “don’t ever call my mom a vixen again. Gross. And two, since when am I the last to find out about our Carter Christmas plans?”
“Since you decided to stop answering your phone, I think,” Jolene replied. She and her niece were playing a game of peek-a-boo behind the stuffed teddy bear and the giggles the game elicited were music to Jolene’s ears. She’d gone too many months without hearing that precious laughter.
“I told you I don’t use it for that.” Rose let out an audible huff that bordered on a growl. “Ever heard of texting?”
“What? And miss out on this very priceless, in-person reaction?” Jolene shook her head. “No way. Don’t think so.”
“Girls, girls,” Patrick ordered in an attempt to bring peace. The sisters weren’t fighting though; they never really did. Even when they disagreed on things, it never escalated into argument territory. Jolene couldn’t remember if that had always been the case or if it was something that developed after their dad’s death, like a coping mechanism. Remaining a team, no matter what and against any and all odds. Whatever the reason, Jolene never took it for granted. Family was priceless, a true gift and treasure.
Rose continued to unpack in the kitchen while Patrick located the television remote between the couch cushions and flicked it on to watch a football game that came on in the third quarter. He slipped off his brown loafers, ruffled his gelled black hair, and unbuttoned the dress shirt he had been wearing so his white undershirt showed underneath. Why Rose had him dressed to the nines for a day of travel was beyond Jolene, but she wasn’t really surprised by it. They were always so put together, like at any moment they were ready for a spontaneous family portrait session.
Unlike Jolene, Rose’s blonde bob was sleek and professional. Her makeup was on point, from her sharp and defined brows to her perfectly penciled lips. She was petite and absolutely stunning and wore clothes tailored exactly for her body. Rose was the kind of woman who was back in her pre-maternity clothes only three weeks after giving birth. While Jolene was fit and relatively toned, she doubted her body would bounce back like that after pregnancy. She liked food way too much and if a few extra pounds were the trade-off for happiness, she’d gladly keep them around her midsection.
Back in the kitchen, after Rose had unloaded enough luggage to feel like she could sit down to take a breather, she came over to the couch, two glasses of white wine in her slender hands. She offered one to Jolene who was still entertaining Ava on the rug.
“So what have you been up to, sis? Still tending to the O’Connell cottage?”
“Yep,” Jolene answered. She took a sip of the wine and felt the cool liquid slide down her throat. Ava had started to rub her eyes with her tiny, chubby fists, a cue that naptime was on the horizon. “Still doing that.”
“And working a real job yet?” Rose clearly wanted some news on Jolene’s future employment plans. They all knew the money was nearly gone. Five years was as long as Patrick had figured Jolene would be able to make her savings last. From day one, he’d said she’d need to make longer-term plans. They’d penciled out a budget and Jolene had stuck to it like it was her religion. Just like the loaves and fishes, she’d hoped she’d be able to stretch it further than she knew it could possibly go. Unfortunately, a miracle was not in her cards.
“I’ll find something…soon,” Jolene admitted. She quickly took another swig of wine and kept it in her mouth so she didn’t have to answer any other questions just yet.
“You know I only ask because I worry about you.”
“I know.” Jolene wasn’t mad. Not even annoyed. If anything, it felt good to be loved enough that someone worried about her. “I appreciate the concern. I do. Really.”
Rose smiled, her mouth curving. “Here.” She waved at Ava with two flapping hands. “Give her here. I’ll get her fed and put down for a nap. The back bedroom, right?”
“Yeah, but I think Ace is already back there snoozing. Let me go wake him and get him moved for you.”
“I can do it.”
Jolene’s mouth gaped at her sister’s words.
“What? Don’t look so shocked.” If she did appear that way, Jolene couldn’t help it. “Having a baby who throws half her meal from her high chair has made me recognize the value in having an animal around to vacuum it up. Remind me to show you pictures of Winston after I put Ava down. He’s an absolute doll.”
Jolene was going to have to physically push her jaw back up with her hand. “Rose Carter Smith. I do believe hell hath frozen over.”
“Oh yeah,” Rose said, laughing over her shoulder as she walked down the hall with her daughter. “And pigs flew and there was even a blue moon or two. It’s been quite a year. I’ll get you all caught up. How about we grab some dessert once the hubby and the baby are down for the night and we can chat?”
“Sweets and my sister? How could I say no to that?”
“You can’t,” Rose hollered in a sing-song tone.
Jolene took another sip of her wine and smiled. There really was nothing like a house full of family. She wondered if she’d ever have one of her own to fill it.
8
Luke
LUKE’S HANDS ACHED, but it felt great to use them for something worthwhile. For as monotonous as shoeing horses and mending fences had become, he was the type of man that needed to do physical work to feel satisfied. He’d never been content with idleness when it came to his body. Once, just out of high school, he’d applied for a desk job at his uncle’s IT firm. Nothing about that venture went well. On his first day, he crashed their main server and also managed to lose three potential clients to a competing firm when he misspoke about the capabilities of the software he attempted to sell. To him, it was another language altogether. Getting fired by his uncle was a humbling moment, but learning he was better suited for a different sort of work was a revelation h
e was glad he’d made in his younger years.
Work that involved sweat, strength and muscle was right up his alley. That’s why working with Devon was the perfect fit. There was physical labor to be done and Luke was a ready and willing employee.
A FEW HOURS into their afternoon, Devon swept the back of his hand across his tall forehead and let out a grunt fit for a caveman. “See?” he said. “Told you it would be hard work.”
“That’s the best kind, though, right?” Luke answered. He set the mallet down on the windowsill and gathered his breath. “Where’s the satisfaction in easy work? A night when I go to bed with my bones aching and my body weary is a day that I know I’ve earned every penny of my paycheck.”
“Spoken like a true cowboy.”
“What can I say? It’s in my blood.” Luke laughed heartily. “And I don’t know about you, but right about now, I’d like a little something in my stomach. I’m still craving that cheesecake from Sal’s we never got.”
“Yeah brother, gotta be honest, I’ve never had a waitress neglect me that much before. It’s almost like she purposefully ignored our table the entire time. Must’ve been intimidated by the handsome devils we so obviously are.” Devon opened the lid to his aluminum toolbox and bent down on the newly installed floorboards to collect the other discarded tools.
The space was coming together nicely. Luke wasn’t sure what it had looked like before, but according to Devon, the place should’ve been condemned. Three years ago, there had been a grease fire in the mesquite barbecue restaurant directly underneath it. Not much was salvageable. Apparently the previous owners left town with the insurance money and the property eventually went to auction. Devon and his father scooped it up, but for the better part of a year it sat vacant. Only recently had Devon been able to dedicate any substantial amount of time refurbishing the upstairs space. Renovating the old restaurant had originally been their first priority, but they had plans to flip the property as a whole, both upstairs portion and retail space below. The electrical had recently been completed and the walls sheet rocked, taped and mudded. Today, the men finished laying the rest of the hardwood flooring, making the space nearly rental ready. It was fulfilling, measurable work, Luke’s favorite kind.
A Lake House Holiday: A Small-Town Christmas Romance Novel Page 5
