Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3

by Debbie Macomber

  That was Bailey.

  How excited Kent had been to have a daughter. When they learned Beth was pregnant a second time, he’d hoped for another girl and had gotten his wish.

  The early years of their marriage were financially tight. They’d met every crisis, refusing to let their money problems come between them. They were a unit, a couple, determined to beat the odds. And when it was smooth sailing financially, her marriage had fallen apart.

  Somewhere, while the girls were in their early teen years, they’d lost the glue that held them together.

  Well, good grief, there was no need to analyze the past at this late date. What was done was done. She smiled despite her mood. If ever there was a profound statement, that was it. What’s done is done. Accept it. Beth found herself humming a Christmas carol as she headed back to the house.

  Bailey was on her cell phone in the kitchen. When she saw Beth, she abruptly ended the conversation.

  “That was Dad,” she explained. “He said he wants to be here when we decorate the tree.”

  Beth’s chest tightened. “Is he… Did he say he was bringing Danielle?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “Where did he take her to lunch yesterday?” she asked conversationally as she considered the situation. Danielle didn’t appear to be the sensitive sort who’d recognize that her presence might be uncomfortable for Beth and the girls. Beth decided she needed to brace herself for the inevitable.

  “The Lighthouse restaurant, I think.”

  “Oh.” Of course Kent would take Danielle to one of the most expensive places in town.

  “What are you making for dinner, Mom?” Bailey asked.

  Sophie sent her a pleading look. “Please let it be your lasagna.”

  Beth laughed. “Of course.” She’d better add two extra settings to the table.

  “With Grandma Carlucci’s marinara sauce?”

  “Would I use anything else?” The recipe came from Kent’s maternal grandmother, who was Italian. Because the dish demanded a lot of time and effort she only served it on special occasions. It was one of Kent’s favorites, too. She’d actually made it for him, thinking…well, what she’d thought was irrelevant.

  “Did your father tell you when he plans to come over?” she asked, trying to hide how anxious this news made her.

  “He’s on his way now.”

  “Okay,” she said, rubbing her palms together. “Why don’t you girls help me carry down the ornaments and we can have everything ready for when your dad gets here.”

  “Can we bring Roscoe downstairs?” Bailey pleaded.

  “Sure, but you’ll need to keep a careful eye on him. He’s still a bit weak.”

  Roscoe was Beau’s—the Hardings’ puppy’s—brother, and the sickliest of the litter. Ted hadn’t held out much hope for his survival, but Beth had given the undernourished puppy plenty of love and attention, bottle-feeding him and carefully administering his medication. At three months he seemed to have turned the corner and she thought he’d survive.

  “Can we bring Princess in the house, too?” Sophie asked.

  “Of course.” Her dogs spent more time inside than out.

  For the next few minutes Beth and her daughters carried down boxes from the storage area upstairs. Princess watched from her place by the sofa. Roscoe was in his bed with his chin resting on his paws, still too weak to move about much, although he seemed to enjoy the activity around him. “Did you and Dad ever have birds?” Bailey asked, standing near the canaries’ cage.

  Beth unsuccessfully hid a smile.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I did have a canary named Tweetie shortly after we were married, but we had to give her away.”

  “But why? Dad loves animals, too!”

  “Yes, I know, but both your father and I were gone during the day. We had to keep the apartment heated for Tweetie, and after the first heating bill, your father insisted I find her a wealthier owner.”

  “Did you hate giving her up?”

  “A little. She went to an aunt of mine, who had her for years.” She smiled again. “Your father promised me there’d be other birds when we could afford them.”

  “But you never got another canary until you came to Cedar Cove.”

  “And now you’ve got two.”

  “So they could keep each other company,” Beth said. Kent had long ago forgotten his promise and, frankly, so had she. Then one day last year she saw the canaries in a feed store and impulsively purchased them.

  They heard a car drive up to the house.

  “Dad’s back,” Bailey said, looking out the living room window.

  “Is… Did Danielle come with him?” Beth asked, trying to make the best of this.

  Sophie joined her sister and glared out the window.

  “Yup. Danielle’s with Dad,” Bailey said in a stark voice.

  Beth didn’t know why she’d expected anything else.

  Six

  “Is that Allison?” Rosie Cox called from the kitchen.

  Zach glanced out the window and, sure enough, his daughter’s car had just pulled into the drive. “Yes,” he called back. She’d gone to pick up her boyfriend, Anson Butler, at the airport, since he’d be spending the holidays with them. Rosie had been cooking and decorating for days in preparation for Christmas. Zach had gotten roped into helping, not that he minded.

  Eddie, their son, who was home from college, came out of his bedroom. He’d spent most of the afternoon there, which was unusual. Eddie was tall and lanky, and he’d shot past Zach’s six feet by two or three inches. Eddie must be working on some project in his room, but when he heard the commotion in the hallway, he hurried out, earbuds plugged into his ears and his iPod playing. He yanked one plug free. “What did you say?”

  “Your sister and Anson are here.”

  “Cool.”

  Zach already had the front door open. The decorative lights on the roof flashed on and off, their colors reflecting in the layer of fresh snow. Anson waved. He’d flown in from Washington, D.C., that afternoon.

  Anson had entered the army at eighteen and currently worked in Military Intelligence at the Pentagon. Zach was proud of Anson’s achievements, although there’d been a time he was convinced the young man was a felon. Zach had done everything he could to keep his daughter away from Anson.

  Fortunately, as Zach had discovered, he’d been wrong about his daughter’s boyfriend. Anson hadn’t been born with many advantages, but he’d risen above those difficulties, thanks in part, Zach believed, to his daughter. The two of them had met in high school, and they’d maintained their relationship all these years.

  At this stage, Zach would welcome Anson as his son-in-law. Rosie cautioned him not to rush their daughter into an engagement, and she was right. Allison and Anson were still young and, as Rosie said, these things had to develop on their own. Parents shouldn’t involve themselves one way or the other.

  Zach opened the screen door for his daughter and Anson, who set down his bag as he stepped inside and extended his hand. “Mr. Cox, thank you for having me.” His handshake was firm and solid.

  “My pleasure.”

  Rosie came forward and hugged Anson. “Merry Christmas!”

  “You’re bedding down with me,” Eddie said, leading Anson down the hallway to his room. “You can have the top bunk.”

  While Eddie showed Anson where he’d be sleeping, Allison followed her mother into the kitchen.
“The traffic was a nightmare,” she said. “I can’t believe this many people are out on the roads on Christmas Eve.”

  “Everyone has places to go,” Zach said, tagging behind his wife and daughter. “Hey, it smells good in here. What’s cooking?”

  “Honestly, Zach, I’ve baked ham every Christmas Eve since we were married. You’d think after twenty-four years you’d remember that.”

  “Right. Ham.” Now that he thought about it, they did seem to have ham every year. Rosie used the bone for a black bean soup she served on New Year’s Day, which was some Southern tradition she’d read about and adopted. It was supposed to guarantee good luck for the upcoming year. He doubted anyone believed that, but he liked black bean soup and so did Rosie.

  By New Year’s, the kids would be heading back to school, and he and Rosie would be alone again. Zach had to admit he missed his children. Without them, the house seemed too quiet.

  “What can I do?” Allison asked, reaching for an apron.

  Zach smiled at his daughter’s eagerness to help. She was an intelligent, considerate young woman, and one day she’d make a fine attorney. In her first year of law school, Allison had gotten top grades. Zach was proud of her.

  “Dinner won’t be ready for a while, but if you want to make the salad you can.”

  “Sure.” She went over to the refrigerator, collecting the lettuce, tomatoes and other vegetables.

  Normally, Zach would’ve sat down in front of the television at this point. He and Rosie both enjoyed football and had spent many a lazy Sunday afternoon watching the Seattle Seahawks. At first she hadn’t understood much about football, but she was a fast learner. Before long, she knew the players’ names and positions and understood the game. Spending Sunday afternoons with his wife was fun.

  Anson joined him at the breakfast bar, pulling out a stool and sitting down.

  “So how does it feel to be back home?” Zach asked him. Anson wore jeans and an army sweatshirt, and his hair was shorn. Very different from his high school days when his hair straggled to his shoulders and he wore a long black raincoat. The difference between then and now was striking.

  “I talked to my mother,” Anson said. He looked down as if to hide his reaction.

  “You’re welcome to invite her for dinner, if you’d like,” Rosie offered.

  Zach wasn’t keen to spend Christmas Eve with Cherry Butler, but he certainly wouldn’t refuse to entertain her.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Cox, but Mom has other plans. She’s got a new…friend.” Anson’s tongue seemed to trip over the word. “She’s sure it’s love this time and wants to be with him.”

  “You’ll have a chance to see her while you’re on leave,” Rosie said reassuringly.

  “I probably will.”

  Zach noticed that Anson didn’t sound all that confident.

  Rosie started into the dining room and paused in the doorway—underneath the mistletoe. Zach couldn’t have planned this better had he tried. He’d hung it there earlier and now, taking advantage of the opportunity, he slipped out of his chair and hurried toward his wife.

  Rosie gave him an odd look as if she didn’t understand what he was doing.

  “You’re standing under the mistletoe,” he told her.

  Surprised, Rosie immediately looked up.

  Taking her in his arms, he kissed her deeply, and with an exaggerated flourish bent her backward over his arm. He might be middle-aged, but he wasn’t dead yet and he loved his wife.

  Anson and Allison hooted and cheered, but he didn’t need any encouragement.

  “Zach.” Rosie was breathless by the time he released her.

  So was he.

  She planted her hand over her heart as though to slow its beat.

  Zach winked at his son, who’d just joined them.

  “I remember when we never used to see you and Mom kiss,” Eddie reminded them.

  Disbelief on his face, Anson looked from Allison to Eddie.

  “My parents were divorced for a while,” Allison explained. “I’m sure I told you.”

  “You did, but…it’s hard to believe, seeing them now.”

  Eddie pulled out a stool on Anson’s other side and propped his elbows on the counter. “It wasn’t a good year for our family, but it all turned out okay in the end.”

  Anson shook his head incredulously.

  “It was a long time ago,” Eddie said.

  “Not that long,” Rosie countered.

  “What happened?” Anson asked. “I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

  “Basically the divorce just didn’t work out for us,” Zach teased, his eyes meeting Rosie’s. That had been a difficult period in their marriage, but, as Eddie had said, it’d all turned out in the end, due in large part to…

  “The judge… Well, she…” Rosie looked at her husband. “You tell them.”

  “It was Judge Lockhart. That was her name back then. She’s Judge Griffin now. I think she could see that the divorce was a mistake for us, but she didn’t have any grounds for denying it the way she did with another couple we heard about.”

  “Actually, I don’t think either of us would have accepted a denial. At the time, we were pretty much at loggerheads.”

  That was putting it mildly, Zach thought, but kept quiet. No point in mentioning it.

  “Mom and Dad wanted joint custody of Allison and me,” Eddie said. “If Judge Olivia okayed their parenting plan, it meant Allison and I would’ve had to change houses every few days. Three days with Dad, four days with Mom—that sort of thing.”

  “They would’ve stayed in the same school district,” Rosie added. She closed the refrigerator and leaned against the kitchen counter, facing the three of them, all sitting at the breakfast bar. “Zach got an apartment a few miles from the house.”

  “Judge Olivia told Mom and Dad they weren’t the ones who needed a stable life,” Allison went on to tell him. “Eddie and I were. The judge didn’t want us changing residences every few days, so she gave us the family home. Mom and Dad had to move in and out.”

  “In other words,” Eddie said, “when Dad was with us, Mom stayed at his apartment, and vice versa.”

  “Zach and I weren’t too keen on this plan,” Rosie inserted.

  Anson grinned. “But apparently it worked.”

  Zach had to agree. “I remember the night Allison and Eddie brought us together, arranging for us to have a romantic dinner here at the house.”

  “Our parents needed our help,” Eddie said, smiling at his sister. “Actually, that was Allison’s idea and it was a good one.”

  “It was indeed.” Zach reached across the counter to take Rosie’s hand. He raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers. “And I’m very grateful.”

  “I am, too,” Rosie whispered.

  “We owe the judge a big debt of thanks,” Allison said.

  “And I owe you one,” Anson said in a low voice, his gaze connecting with hers. “You always had faith in me.”

  “Oh, Anson, I had my moments. I so badly wanted to believe you didn’t have anything to do with the fire that burned down the Lighthouse restaurant.”

  “The evidence was damning,” he said, frowning slightly. “I couldn’t blame you for doubting me.”

  “When I learned you’d been at the restaurant that night, and then later, when your mother told me you’d started a number of small fires when you were a kid, my faith wavered.”

  “Mine would have, too.”
Again Anson came to her defense. “I looked guilty as sin. I can’t blame you, Allie.”

  “Luckily you saw the man who really started the fire and were able to identify him.”

  Zach had played a role in determining that Warren Saget, a local builder, was the arsonist. Teaming up with Sheriff Troy Davis, Zach had convinced Anson to come forward and speak to the authorities.

  “If it wasn’t for your dad, I might still be on the run,” Anson said. “Your family’s been a lifeline to me,” he continued. “Mrs. Cox, Rosie, you’ve been more of a mother to me than my own. I know Cherry loves me in her way. She never counted on being a single mother, and she didn’t have the greatest role model herself. She does the best she can.”

  Zach admired Anson for defending his mother. He didn’t question that she loved her son. Unfortunately, Cherry’s life had been a long series of low-paying jobs and living with ne’er-do-wells who used and abused her. Anson had been instructed to refer to these men as “uncle,” none of them ever being a father figure of any kind. His father had left Cherry as soon as he discovered she was pregnant. Turned out he already had a wife and family.

  “Are we going to play bingo?” Eddie asked, straightening. “It’s tradition, you know.” He nudged Anson as he said that, and Anson elbowed him back.

  “Why don’t we set it up while Allison and your mother finish getting dinner ready,” Zach suggested. He slid off the stool and headed into the living room. He didn’t recall how Christmas Eve bingo had begun, but the kids couldn’t have been more than eight and ten. He thought Rosie’s parents might’ve started it and that Rosie had carried it on, since she was big on traditions.

  In the living room, Zach took out the game. He handed the cards to Anson to arrange, while Eddie gathered up the small prizes and placed them on the coffee table.

  “If you have a few minutes I’d like to speak to you privately,” Anson said, sitting next to Zach on the sofa.