Together for Christmas

by Debbie Macomber

  “Yes, Grandma, I love him.”

  “And you miss him the same way I missed Sam.”

  “I do.” It was freeing to Ruth to admit it. The depression that had hung over her for the past week lifted.

  All at once Ruth knew exactly what she was going to do. Her decision was made.

  Ten

  BARBARA GORDON ANSWERED the doorbell, and the moment she saw Ruth, her eyes lit with delight. “Ruth, I’m so glad to see you!”

  Ruth was instantly ushered into the house. She hadn’t been sure what kind of reception she’d get. After all, she’d disappointed and possibly hurt the Gordons’ son.

  “I was so hoping you’d stop by,” Barbara continued as she led her into the kitchen.

  Obediently Ruth followed. “I came because I don’t have a current address for Paul.”

  “You plan on writing him?” Barbara seemed about to leap up and down and clap her hands.

  “Actually, no.”

  The happiness drained from the other woman’s eyes.

  “I know it’s a bit old-fashioned, but I thought I’d send him a telegram.”

  The delight was back in place. “Greg,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Ruth is here.”

  Almost immediately Paul’s father joined them in the kitchen. His grin was as wide as his wife’s had been. “Good to see you, good to see you,” he said expansively.

  “What did I tell you?” Barbara insisted.

  The two of them stood there staring at her.

  “About Paul’s address?” Ruth prodded.

  “Oh, yes.” As if she’d woken from a trance, Barbara Gordon hurried into the other room, leaving Ruth alone with Paul’s father.

  It was awkward at first, and Ruth felt the least she could do was explain the reason for her visit. “I miss Paul so much,” she told him. “I need his address.”

  Greg Gordon nodded. “He’s missing you, too. Big-time.”

  Ruth’s heart filled with hope. “He said that?”

  “Not in those exact words,” Greg stated matter-of-factly. “But rest assured, my son is pretty miserable.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Now it was Ruth who wanted to leap up and down and clap her hands.

  “My son is miserable and you’re happy?” Greg asked, but a teasing light glinted in his eyes.

  “Yes... No... Yes,” she quickly amended. “I just hope he’s been as miserable as I have.”

  Greg’s smile faded. “No question there.”

  The phone rang once; Barbara must have answered it right away. Within a few minutes she returned to the kitchen, carrying a portable phone. “It’s for you.”

  Greg started toward her.

  “Not you, honey,” she said, gesturing at Ruth. “The call is for Ruth.”

  “Me?” She was startled. No one knew she’d come here. Anyone wanting to reach her would automatically call her cell. Her frown disappeared as she realized who it must be.

  “Is it Paul?” she asked, her voice low and hopeful.

  “It is. He thinks Greg’s about to get on the line.” She clasped her husband’s elbow. “Come on, honey, let’s give Ruth and Paul some privacy.” She was halfway out of the room when she turned back, caught Ruth’s eye and winked.

  That was just the encouragement Ruth needed. Still, she felt decidedly nervous as she picked up the phone resting on the kitchen counter. After the way they’d parted, she didn’t know what to expect or how to react.

  “Hello, Paul,” she said, hoping to sound calm and confident, neither of which she was.

  Her greeting was followed by a slight hesitation. “Ruth?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” Her voice was downright cheerful—and more than a little forced.

  “What are you doing at my parents’ place?” he asked gruffly.

  “Visiting.”

  Again he paused, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of this. “I’d like to speak to my father.”

  “I’m sorry, he and your mother left the room so you and I could talk.”

  “About what?” He hadn’t warmed to her yet.

  “Your calling ruins everything,” she told him. “I was going to send you a telegram. My grandmother sent one to my grandfather sixty years ago.”

  “A telegram?”

  “I know it’s outdated. It’s also rather romantic, I thought.”

  “What did you intend to say in this telegram?”

  “I hadn’t decided. My first idea was to say the same thing Helen said to my grandfather. It was a short message—just three little words.”

  “I love you?” He was warming up now.

  “No.”

  “No?” He seemed skeptical. “What else could it be? Helen loved him, didn’t she?”

  “Oh, yes, but that was understood. Oh, Paul, I heard the rest of the story and it’s so beautiful, so compelling, you’ll see why she loved him as much as she did. Sam helped her look to the future and step out of the past.”

  “You’re avoiding the question,” he said.

  That confused her for a moment. “What’s the question?”

  “Do you love me enough to accept me as a marine?”

  “I wasn’t sending that answer by way of Western Union.” The answer that was going to change her life....

  “You can tell me now,” he said casually.

  “Before I do, you have to promise, on your word of honor as a United States marine, that you’ll never walk away from me like that again.”

  “You think it was easy?” he demanded.

  “I don’t care if it was easy or not, you can’t ever do it again.” His abandonment had hurt too much.

  “All right,” he muttered. “I promise I’ll never walk away from you again.”

  “Word of honor?”

  “Word of honor.”

  He’d earned it now. “I’m crazy about you, Paul Gordon. Crazy. Crazy in love with you. If having the marines as your career means that much to you, then I’ll adjust. I’ll find a way to make it work. But you need to compromise, too, when it comes to my career. I can’t just leave a teaching job in order to follow you somewhere.”

  The last thing Ruth expected after her admission was a long stretch of silence.

  Then, “Are you serious? You’ll accept my being in the military?”

  “Yes. Do you think I’d do this otherwise?”

  “No,” he told her. “But what you don’t know is that I’ve been thinking about giving up the marines.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were?” Never once had it occurred to Ruth that he’d consider such a thing.

  “My dad and I have had a couple of long talks about it,” he went on to say.

  “Tell me more.”

  “You already know this part—I’m crazy about you, too. I wasn’t convinced I could find a way to live the rest of my life without you. One option I’ve looked into is training. I’ve talked to my commander about it, and he thinks it’s a good possibility. I’d be able to stay in the marines, but I’d be stationed in one place for a while.”

  Ruth slumped onto a kitchen stool, feeling deliciously weak, too weak to stay upright. “Oh, Paul, that’s wonderful!”

  “I felt like a fool,” he said. “I made my big stand, and I honestly felt I was right, but I didn’t have to force you to decide that very minute. My pride wouldn’t allow me to back off, though.”

  “Pride carried me the first week,” she said. “Then I went to see my grandmother, and she told me how she met my grandfather at the end of the war. Their romance was as much of an adventure as everything else she told us.”

  “She’s a very special woman,” Paul said. “Just like her granddaughter.”

  “I’ll tell you everything later.”

  “I can’t wait to
hear it. I’m just wondering if history might repeat itself.”

  “How?”

  “I’m wondering if you’ll be my wife.”

  “That’s the perfect question,” Ruth said, and it was perfect for what she had in mind.

  She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “I do believe I’ll send you that telegram after all.”

  Yes. Yes. Yes.

  EPILOGUE

  PAUL REACHED FOR Ruth’s hand beneath the dining-room table. Ruth smiled and gave his hand a squeeze.

  “Dinner was fabulous, Grandma,” Ruth said. She’d never expected her grandmother to go to all this effort. “I wish you hadn’t worked so hard, though. Paul and I would’ve taken you out to eat.”

  “Nonsense. It’s Christmas Eve. Besides, I rarely get the opportunity to cook for anyone these days. I enjoyed it. And it’s such a treat to have the two of you all to myself.”

  “Thank you so much for everything—especially the stockings. You know we’ll treasure them.”

  “And thank you, my darling, for the beautiful memoir you’ve created.”

  Ruth had made a new version of Helen’s story, including a number of photographs she’d found through her research. She’d scanned the poster declaring Helen and her first husband, Jean-Claude, criminals. She’d also inserted some details Helen had remembered more recently. Finally, she’d had it professionally bound and it was, even if she said so herself, a beautiful piece of work. The memoir was for her grandmother, true, but it was also for everyone in the Shelton family, now and in the future.

  Ruth stood and carried the empty dinner plates to the sink. “Paul and I will do the dishes.”

  “No need.”

  “We insist,” Paul said.

  “I don’t want to waste a minute of our time together with dishes,” Helen told him. “I hardly ever see you as it is.”

  “Well, that should be changing soon,” Ruth said with a smile.

  “I’ve requested Seattle as my next duty station,” Paul explained. “My parents are here, too, and we both love the Pacific Northwest.”

  “California is fine, but this is where we want to make our home,” Ruth added.

  “Let me get coffee—and the pie,” Helen said, walking into the kitchen behind them.

  “You mean, there’s pie, as well as those yummy cookies?” Paul’s eyes lit up.

  “Green tomato mincemeat. The tomatoes are from Charlotte Rhodes’s garden. It’s the best you’ll ever taste.”

  “I love mincemeat,” Ruth said, resisting the urge to poke her husband, who was making a face.

  Helen smiled. “Give it a try and if you don’t like it, I also have fruitcake.”

  “I believe I’ll pass on both.”

  Ruth’s grandmother ignored his comment and quietly dished up three small slices of pie with vanilla ice cream. Ruth helped her bring the plates into the dining room. Paul followed, carrying two cups and saucers, steaming with freshly brewed coffee. Ruth had declined, saying the pie was enough for her.

  “One taste,” she said, waving her fork at him.

  Paul grinned. “I doubt anyone could refuse you, Ruth. Especially me.”

  “You keep thinking that, okay?”

  Ruth watched as her husband sliced off a sliver of the pie. She laughed when she saw his expression change.

  “Hey, this is good.”

  Helen looked equally pleased. “I’ll tell Charlotte she made a convert out of you.” She paused to sip her coffee. “What are your plans for Christmas Day?”

  Paul reached for Ruth’s hand once more. “First, we’re making you breakfast tomorrow morning. It’s the least we can do.” Helen had invited them to stay the night, and they’d accepted. “Then we’re driving to Seattle to spend the day with my parents.”

  “And we’re going to visit Mom and Dad for New Year’s,” Ruth said.

  “Our Christmas vacation worked out perfectly, since I was able to get a week’s leave at the same time Ruth finished teaching for the semester.”

  “There’s nothing like being with family over the holidays.” Helen nodded.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Ruth turned to her husband, who sent her a smile. “Besides, we have news to share...the kind of news we wanted to tell you in person.”

  Helen stared at them expectantly.

  “We’re going to make you a great-grandma,” Ruth announced, and awaited her grandmother’s reaction. To her surprise, Helen said nothing.

  “Grandma Shelton, did you hear?” Paul prodded.

  Helen’s face broke into a huge smile. “Congratulations. When are you due?”

  “Not until June.”

  “June? What a perfect month for a birthday.”

  “Oh, Grandma, you’d say that about any month.”

  “Probably,” Helen agreed. “I apologize for not responding right away. I was trying to calculate if I had enough time to knit you a special baby blanket and an extra Christmas stocking before then. I suspect I do.”

  “Oh, Grandma,” Ruth said, struggling not to laugh.

  “This is a blessed Christmas,” Helen said simply, happiness radiating from her face. “There was a time I didn’t believe I’d ever know joy again and yet I feel it every single day.”

  “Merry Christmas, Grandma.”

  “Merry Christmas to both of you. No—” she raised her coffee cup in a toast “—to all three of you.”

  * * *

  When We Touch

  Brenda Novak

  Also available from MIRA

  The Whiskey Creek series

  by New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak

  WHEN LIGHTNING STRIKES

  WHEN SNOW FALLS

  WHEN SUMMER COMES

  HOME TO WHISKEY CREEK

  TAKE ME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

  COME HOME TO ME

  THE HEART OF CHRISTMAS

  THIS HEART OF MINE

  A WINTER WEDDING

  DISCOVERING YOU

  Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Present Day

  IT WAS KYLE HOUSEMAN.

  Olivia Lucero hesitated when she saw her ex-boyfriend through the peephole, even though she’d already yelled, “Coming,” at the sound of his knock. It had been three years since he’d broken her heart by marrying her sister, Noelle. He and Noelle were now divorced, but it was still awkward to confront him, especially on her own.

  “What’s wrong?” Lorianna Beck, a friend who’d come to town for Victorian Days, a celebration Whiskey Creek hosted every Christmas, held her coffee cup in one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other.

  Olivia forced a smile and shrugged. “Nothing,” she said, and finished turning the knob so she could open the door.

  A hint of relief eased the anxiety on Kyle’s forehead. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans and, when she’d spotted him through the peephole, he’d been wearing a scowl. “Thank God you’re home,” he said.

  That wasn’t the greeting she’d expected. She’d assumed he’d come to see Brandon. Whenever Kyle showed up these days, he asked for her husband. They were finally establishing a relationship, but it was still tentative.

  “Brandon’s at the shop,” she said, maintaining a polite smile. After her husband had retired from professional skiing, he’d opened a ski-and-snowboard shop in the center of town. He was usually out of the house early, particularly during the cold season—not that there’d been much sn
ow this year.

  “I’m not looking for Brandon.” Kyle’s breath misted in the morning air. “I was hoping I could have a few minutes to speak with you alone.”

  Olivia glanced over her shoulder at Lorianna, who was sitting at her kitchen table. Although she and Lorianna, the wife of one of Brandon’s old ski buddies, had bonded quickly, Lorianna was a relatively new friend. She had her own problems, and that—rather than Victorian Days—was the real reason for her visit. But Olivia wasn’t sure she wanted to share anything too personal with her. Besides, with the issues Lorianna was facing, the poor woman was going through enough.

  When Olivia turned back, she could tell that Kyle hadn’t realized that she had company. Lorianna had arrived late last night, so she hadn’t been seen around town. And she didn’t have a car with her, parked out front or otherwise. She’d flown in from Denver, and Olivia and Brandon had picked her up at the Oakland Airport. “It looks like this might be a bad time,” he said. “So maybe...maybe you can call me later?”

  “Wait! Don’t go on my account.” Lorianna dried what was left of her tears and jumped to her feet. “I’m no reason to postpone anything. I was just about to get in the shower, anyway.” She scurried out of the kitchen before Olivia could argue, so Olivia stepped back and waved Kyle inside. She wasn’t dressed for company. She’d yanked on some sweats when she rolled out of bed, brushed her teeth and pulled her blond hair into a ponytail, but she was curious enough to hear what Kyle had to say that she wasn’t concerned about her appearance.

  “Who was that?” he asked, once Lorianna’s footsteps could be heard on the landing overhead.

  She and Kyle had grown up in the same small Gold Country town and knew almost all the same people. Olivia could understand why he’d be slightly surprised to find a stranger in her house. “Have you ever heard Brandon talk about Jeff Felix?”

  “The skier? The guy he hated when he first started his career?”

  “That’s the one. According to Brandon, Jeff was sort of...arrogant when they first met. But they’re good friends now that they no longer compete.”