by Judy Baer
He didn’t complain as he slid into the front seat of her car, although she knew that he must ache all over. Instead, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back on the headrest, and sighed. She could see the tension and the effort that he was exerting simply to sit in the passenger seat.
“Now I know what ‘weak as a kitten’ means,” she commented, keeping her voice light. “I remember Eggnog when I adopted him. He was so tiny, having lost his mother too early. You don’t look much stronger than he was then.”
Jack’s eyes remained closed, but the corners of his lips tipped into a faint smile.
He seemed to doze as she drove toward Frost. Merry was anxious to get him home and settled before noon. Abby had a clinic appointment she couldn’t miss, which left only Hildy to mind the store until Merry was free to help her. She was beginning to regret volunteering to be nursemaid. What had she been thinking? It was almost Christmas and she had yet to find a Joseph for the living Nativity, do last-minute errands for the Parade of Lights, and bake lefse for the lutefisk dinner.
Well, Jack would just have to entertain himself while he recuperated. She certainly wouldn’t be able to wait on him hand and foot!
The house smelled of pine and peppermint when they entered. She’d received a new shipment of merchandise yesterday, and the partially unpacked boxes made walking difficult. Merry found herself hanging protectively onto Jack’s arm.
He took the stairs to the second floor slowly and gave a sigh of relief as he entered his room. The fireplace was on and Merry had put a pitcher of ice water on the bedside table. “That was the longest trip I’ve taken in some time,” he joked. “Man, am I weak.” He dropped heavily onto the bed.
“You need something other than hospital food to build you up. I’ve got clam chowder and a protein smoothie for you downstairs.”
“Smoothies?” His face wrinkled in disgust. “What’s it made out of? Kelp and spinach? I don’t eat that healthy stuff.”
“You do here,” Merry said calmly. “It’s what you’re paying me for.”
“You should pay me to drink that stuff.” He lay down on the bed and sighed. “Oh, man, this feels good.”
“Do you want to eat now, or should I finish unpacking my new shipment first?”
It was a moot question, however, because Jack was already fast asleep.
He did nothing but eat and sleep for the next two days. Merry was grateful because she got time to call the people participating in the Parade of Lights—mostly farmers who decorated farm equipment in the most amazing ways—and to round up a couple more entries. But she still had no one to play Joseph.
On the third day, Jack’s eyes were clear and rested, and he was sitting up in bed reading from a pile of papers he’d copied at the courthouse.
“Feeling better, I see.” Merry put a breakfast tray down on the bed.
“I was, until I started reading this stuff.” He threw the papers onto the bed.
“Bad news?” She opened the curtains wide and let the sunshine in.
“Not for me but for several others in this area. How am I going to tell people to get off land they’ve thought was theirs? And the farmsteads . . .”
Merry looked up sharply. “You mean their homes? You own their homes as well?”
“Of course I do. It was all my great-grandfather’s property.”
“You can’t kick people out of their homes,” Merry blurted. When she saw the look on Jack’s face, she bit her tongue. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t your fault. I’m just imagining what I’d feel like if someone made me leave this place. After all the hard work I’ve invested in it . . .” She shuddered. “It breaks my heart.”
“You’re a lot of help,” Jack growled. “Now I feel even worse, but it has to be done. This mess has gone on too long. I can’t leave it for another generation. My cousins’ kids will have even less idea of what to do than I.”
“Your cousins’ children? What about your children?” She uncovered the plate on the tray, revealing fluffy scrambled eggs and thick slices of bacon.
“I don’t have any, if you haven’t noticed.” He sounded touchy as he took the plate and dug into the scrambled eggs with a fork.
“Not now, but you might later.”
“Doubtful.” He picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it.
“Why not?”
“Fine father I’d be.” His expression grew bleak. “Nobody would leave me alone with my own children for fear I’d do something stupid and hurt them.”
“Nonsense! That’s just some leftover lie from when you were twelve.” Merry fidgeted with her hands before continuing. “I don’t expect you to get over the loss of your brother, but you aren’t the same person you were back then. Now you’re a sensible, cautious, conscientious adult. Quit playing the tape of that child inside your head.”
This wasn’t the time to be having this conversation, Merry knew. Fortunately at that moment Peppy entered the room at full speed chasing the cat, leaving neither of them time to say something they might regret. Nog shot onto the bed and into Jack’s lap, his tail a big fur bottle-brush of distress. Peppy slid to a halt at the bed. From the safety of Jack’s arms, the cat hissed and spat at his nemesis.
“What’s gotten into you two?” Merry demanded. “You both know better than that.”
As if the animal duo knew exactly what she was saying, they both deflated, their aggression fading away.
She turned to the cat. “Nog, what’s so special about that guy? You don’t like men!”
Jack scratched the cat behind the ears and a deep purr roared from its innards. “Could have fooled me.”
“He’s disliked every man who has walked through my door until now.”
“Maybe Nog knows something you don’t.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the smug way Jack smiled as he said it.
* * * * *
That evening, Merry knocked on Jack’s door, a dinner tray in her hands. When she entered, she found him scowling first at the remote and then at the television.
She set down the tray and asked, “What’s wrong? Does it need new batteries?”
“No. New programming. Where are all the channels?”
“I don’t have cable. You’ll have to be happy with whatever you can find.”
“You live out here in no-man’s-land and you can’t even watch television? What kind of life is that?”
“A pretty good one. There’s no use paying for something I don’t use. If you eat your meal”—she unveiled a medium rare rib eye and baked potatoes—“I’ll play a game of Scrabble with you later.”
He looked interested. “Promise?”
“Scout’s honor. Now eat.”
Merry hummed as she cleaned the kitchen. It felt domestic, homey . . . wifelike. She stopped cold, a sponge in her hand and a horrified expression on her features. She could say in all honesty that the thought had never entered her mind before this moment. Why now, with the man who could turn the town she loved upside down?
She filled a water glass and drank it quickly. She was tired, burning the candle at both ends with the store, the holiday plans, and running to the hospital. It was no wonder she couldn’t think straight! A little rest and silly thoughts like that would be history, she assured herself.
She grabbed two pieces of apple pie from the counter and headed for the stairs, determined not to let her mind drift in that direction again.
He was waiting for her, sitting in one of the two wing chairs. He’d pulled a small side table forward. “I have to let you know, I’m an excellent Scrabble player. I know every word that can be spelled with an X and a Y, and I go for the triple word counts.”
She poured coffee from a carafe and took the game from a shelf. “And I can use all the letters at one time. Big scores. Huge.”
“Sounds like we’re perfectly matched.”
She almost blurted, “A match made in heaven,” but stopped herself. Wifelike, a match made in heaven . . . This domesticity was taking on a
whole new feel and it was making Merry very uncomfortable.
* * * * *
They were perfectly matched, Jack realized—for every brilliant word he spelled, she responded with an equally stellar one. When the letters were all used, they were in a dead tie.
“Now what?” Merry asked as they stared at the board. “I’ve never had this happen before. I always win.”
“You finally met your match.” Jack grinned wickedly, some of the sparkle back in his eyes.
Your match . . . He was her match and she was his—his perfect match. Luckily, Jack didn’t have to pursue the concept further because his cell phone rang. A glance at the screen told him it was Vince.
“Hi, what’s up?”
“You sound better. How are you feeling?”
“Okay. I’m at the B-and-B.” Jack mouthed “Vince” to Merry.
“Perfect timing. I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I have to finish a few things in the office first.”
“You don’t need to . . .”
“Don’t try to talk me out of it. I have a lot of things for you to sign, for one thing. For another, I want to see where you stand in the business you’re trying to get straightened out in Frost. And the third thing I want is to see you for myself. Merry said you’ve been very ill.”
“You’ve been talking to Merry?” Jack was surprised he felt annoyed.
“I couldn’t talk to you. Who else was there?”
“I suppose you’re right.” He still wasn’t himself, Jack reasoned. Merry was the logical one to speak for him—except that it made everything seem too intimate. Jack Frost didn’t let anyone get too close.
“Now may I talk to her?”
“What about?”
“It’s my business, buddy. Is she there? Give the phone to her for a minute.”
Merry took the phone and said hello. She was silent then, listening to Vince. Her only words were “no problem” and “good-bye” before she handed the phone back to Jack. “He hung up. He says he’ll see you soon.”
“What did he want from you?”
“A room. He’ll be staying here while he’s in town.”
Jack scowled. “Now both of you will be nagging at me.”
Merry smiled at him sweetly. “Lucky you. Good night, Jack.”
He stared at the door for a long time after she closed it. What was it about her that attracted him so? She was beautiful, of course, but it was her generosity, her guilelessness, and her intensity that piqued his interest. He’d never met anyone quite like her before. Of course there was the problem of their vastly differing views on Christmas, but surely that could be resolved—couldn’t it?
He needed to get well, finish his business, and return to California as soon as possible. That was all there was to it. Merry was muddling his thinking and driving him crazy with this Christmas obsession of hers.
He looked at the pills she’d left for him. Quickly he put them in his mouth and swilled them down. He had to get out of here—and the sooner the better.
Chapter Sixteen
• • • • • • • • • • • •
Hildy’s footsteps were heavy on the stairs as she followed Merry up to Jack’s room.
She seemed older lately, Merry had noted, as if the world’s worries were piling up on her shoulders. Merry wished there was something she could do for the woman other than make sure she spent Christmas at her house. That would have to do for now, however.
It was going to be fun for Merry. She’d have Hildy, Jack, and possibly Vince under her roof. Maybe she’d invite Greta and her family too. Jeff and Zeke would no doubt want to be invited, but she would pass on that this year. Adding Jack and the unknown Vince to the mix might be too much testosterone under one roof.
She knocked on Jack’s door and heard a muttered, “Come in.”
He was doing the New York Times crossword puzzle and doing it faster than Merry had ever managed.
“Why don’t you slow down with those things? If you finish them too quickly I’ll run out of puzzles for you.”
“I’m not good with tedium. This monotony is getting the best of me.”
Jack hadn’t bothered to comb his hair, and he was wearing a snug white T-shirt and navy sweat pants. His feet were bare. He looked youthful, rumpled, and adorable. Her fingers itched to brush back that tousled hair with her fingers. . . .
Quickly slapping that idea back into place, she stepped aside to reveal Hildy with her plate of lefse. “You’ve got company.”
He brightened and looked very much like a little boy who’d gotten a reprieve from a well-deserved punishment. “Boy, Hildy, am I glad to see you.”
“It can’t be because of the poor food,” the woman said wryly. “I think you’ve gained a pound or two since you came home from the hospital.”
“Three. I weighed myself.”
“But you lost eight,” Merry reminded him. “What Hildy brought will help with that.”
Hildy neared the bed and, with a flourish, unveiled a plate of lefse. It was similar in color to a tortilla, pale with brown spots left by the griddle. Each piece was rolled into a tight tube.
“I buttered them and put sugar on them for you.” She thrust the plate into his hands.
“I’ve heard of lefse but don’t think I’ve ever had it.” He picked one up and smelled it.
“Just bite into it,” Hildy ordered. “That’s the only way you’ll find out how it tastes.”
Reluctantly he did so. As he chewed, a smile spread over his features. “This is good!”
“Of course it is,” Hildy snorted. “I’m known for my lefse.”
“What is it, exactly?
“It’s soft Norwegian flatbread made with potatoes. Scandinavian tortillas, if you will.”
Jack nodded and continued to eat.
Merry poured him a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table, and the two women watched him in amazement as he downed the entire plateful.
When he was done, he sat back against the pillows and sighed. “Thanks, Hildy.”
“Thank you,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve never seen anyone enjoy my baking so much.” She turned and eyed Merry. “It’s good to have a man around the house to feed.”
Hint, hint, Merry deduced, but she wasn’t taking Hildy’s advice. As soon as Jack was ready, she was packing him onto a plane headed for California.
Merry turned and saw Jack sprawled on top of the covers and out like a light. The food had put him to sleep. She sighed as she tossed a lightweight blanket over him and tiptoed toward the door with Hildy. She really didn’t want to leave him, but while he was sleeping, she needed to get things done.
“Can you help out at the store for the rest of the week, Hildy? You’ve been a lifesaver for me.”
“No problem. I don’t have anything else to do.”
Merry grasped Hildy’s roughened hands in her own. “I’m planning on your being at my house for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. You’re still coming, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know why you bother with an old woman like me.” Hildy looked incredibly sad as she said it.
“It’s going to be interesting this year,” Merry continued brightly. “I’m going to need you to help me. Jack and perhaps his friend Vince are going to be here as well. I thought I might also invite a family I met recently. They have a little girl in my class.”
“A child?” Hildy looked interested now.
“I’m counting on you to be here.” Merry gave Hildy a hug.
Hildy chuckled, a sound Merry didn’t often hear from her neighbor. “You talked me into it.”
* * * * *
Creaking from the upstairs floorboards signaled that Merry’s patient was awake and restless.
She walked to Jack’s door, which was ajar, and peered inside. Her rocking chair was sitting upside down, seat and back pillows on the floor and the rockers removed. He was kneeling on one knee examining the wooden joints of the chair.
“What are you doing with my
mother’s rocking chair? Have you broken it?” She tried to keep the horror out of her voice.
“Not breaking, fixing. This chair has been squeaking since I arrived. It needs to be re-glued.”
“What’s possessed you to fix it now?”
“I don’t dare go downstairs because I’ll be accosted by shopping women and motion-activated Santas. I’ve read every book on your shelves and put together a one-thousand-piece puzzle. It’s time to get up and do something constructive.”
“Jack, you may not admit it, but you’ve been very ill. It’s good for you to rest.”
“If I die of boredom it won’t matter that I rest.” He touched the rocker. “Do you have any wood glue?”
“I might, in the basement,” she said in exasperation. “If I get it for you, will you quit trying to fix things?”
“Not unless you find me something else to do, something on your ‘approved’ list of activities.” He grinned at her, a real, wide, enticing grin.
It was the first time she’d seen him so relaxed and so natural. He finally wasn’t holding back. He was beginning to trust her. She knew trust was in short supply in Jack’s world. He obviously didn’t trust even himself most of the time.
“I’ll find something if you promise to behave until the doctor gives you the go-ahead that you’re able to resume normal activities.”
He grinned even wider. It did something incredible to his eyes. They fairly danced with good humor. “You mean I can misbehave after that?”
“You are incorrigible!” She couldn’t help but return the smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I get time, and I’ll bring a project for you.”
“No cleaning the silver service or folding clothes,” he warned. “Something interesting.”
“Would I fail you?” she retorted.
Suddenly he grew very still and his eyes serious. “No, Merry, I don’t believe you would.”
* * * * *
“We’re out of replacement bulbs for the lights on the Christmas trees,” Abby informed her when Merry returned to the store. “And we only have one set of silver reindeer left. Besides that, there’s been a run on tablecloths.”
The hum of happy conversation surrounded them as customers picked up last-minute Christmas gifts.
