Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3

by Debbie Macomber

  “Kent will be back on Christmas Day,” Danielle said to the girls, as if they were small children in need of reassurance. “Christmas Eve is a time for family and—”

  “Our father is family,” Bailey protested as she curled her hands into tight fists. She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  Sophie cast a pleading glance at her father. “Daddy?” she implored.

  Kent hesitated.

  Danielle tugged him over to the door. “I need to go. Don’t worry, your father will be back in the morning.” She turned to him, hissing, “The girls need to spend time with their mother, too.”

  “I’ll stay,” Kent said decisively. “That is, if you’re sure it’s what you want.” The question was directed at Beth.

  Holding her breath, she realized she didn’t have a choice. Which meant that her Christmas Eve dinner would be shared with Kent and…Danielle. What she wouldn’t give for a peaceful evening alone with her daughters. Instead, she was forced to watch her husband—er, ex-husband—with another woman.

  “Mom?” Bailey whispered.

  “Of course you should stay,” Beth said, just a little too brightly.

  “Mom’s making lasagna,” Sophie said, and then added, apparently to enlighten Danielle, “It’s a family tradition. The recipe comes from Grandma Carlucci.”

  Danielle pursed her lips in a pout, then squared her shoulders, coming to some decision. “In that case, I insist on helping.”

  The last thing Beth wanted was this woman in her kitchen. “All I need to do is get the lasagna in the oven,” she said. “It’s already put together—just needs to bake.”

  “Well, then, I’ll make a salad,” Danielle said.

  “Mom always makes Caesar salad and garlic bread,” Bailey told her.

  “I can make a Caesar salad.” Danielle pushed up the sleeves of her sweater and grabbed an apron off the countertop, staking out her territory.

  Beth felt as though the other woman had declared war. Fine. In that case, she was prepared to surrender without a fight. This was Christmas, and if Danielle wanted to plant her flag in Beth’s kitchen, she was welcome to it. Only Beth wouldn’t be there.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind making the salad?” she asked.

  “I offered, didn’t I?” Danielle placed one hand on her hip.

  “Okay, then, there’s no reason for me to stay. I’ll use the time to deliver one of the puppies.” She’d drive the Randalls’ puppy over to Grace Harding’s place.

  Danielle cast her a triumphant look, as if to say she’d taken great satisfaction in maneuvering Beth out of her own kitchen.

  Sophie smiled; Beth could tell this was precisely what she’d hoped would happen. “Dad, you should go with Mom.”

  “Kent!” Danielle said sharply. “I might…you know, need you.”

  “Dad,” Bailey challenged, “do you want Mom driving on treacherous roads alone? What if she had an accident?”

  Beth tried to remember whether her daughter had ever taken drama. If so, she’d had a good teacher. The kid was ready for Broadway.

  “It’s fine, Kent,” Beth assured him, trying to hide her laughter and not quite succeeding. “I’ve driven these roads alone any number of times.”

  “But not when there’s snow on the ground,” Sophie wailed, as if she’d attended the same drama class.

  “Your mother knows what she’s doing,” Danielle tossed in casually. “She’ll be perfectly fine by herself.” The last two words were given heavy emphasis.

  Again Bailey and Sophie turned to their father with wide eyes even Scrooge couldn’t have ignored.

  “Dad? Are you really going to let Mom go out all on her own?”

  “Would you ever forgive yourself if anything happened to the mother of your children?” Sophie wailed.

  Unwilling to be part of this ridiculous conversation any longer, Beth grabbed her coat, gloves and scarf and headed for the back door. She was outside and halfway to the car with the puppy in its carrier when Kent jogged up behind her.

  “Hey, wait up,” he called.

  “Kent, really, this isn’t necessary.”

  “According to our daughters, it is.”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember you being manipulated quite this easily when we were married.” She opened the rear passenger door and placed the puppy’s carrier inside.

  Kent climbed into the front passenger seat and waited until Beth joined him before he responded. “Did you ever stop to think I might actually want to accompany you?”

  She hadn’t. For the life of her, Beth couldn’t manage a single word. In fact, it was all she could do to breathe. All at once the interior of her SUV seemed to shrink until it felt as if the two of them were trapped inside a box the size of a milk crate. Her mouth went dry and she concentrated on driving rather than the man she’d loved and married and…left. Oh, how she wished she could turn back the clock.

  Risking a look at Kent, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

  The silence that stretched between them threatened to snap.

  “I…” She started to say something—although what, she wasn’t sure.

  “I was—”

  They both spoke at the same time.

  “You first,” she said.

  “No, you.”

  She laughed. “Please, you go first.”

  “Well,” he murmured after a few awkward seconds, “I was just thinking back to all the animals you rescued while we were married. Remember Ugly Arnie?”

  Like she’d ever forget the injured raccoon she’d found at their back door. “How could I forget him?”

  “Vicious, ungrateful—”

  “Kent, he was in pain! As I recall, you aren’t exactly Prince Charming when you aren’t feeling well.”

  “Prince Charming? So is that how you remember me when…I was feeling good?”

  She doubted that he expected an answer, but she gave him one, anyway. “You had your moments.”

  “So did you.”

  “Thank you.” They could play nice, she realized. It hadn’t always been this silent battle of wills.

  “I kind of thought you’d remarry,” he said, frowning as he spoke.

  “Really?” She, on the other hand, hadn’t even considered the possibility that Kent might marry someone else—well, other than in some vague, abstract way. Certainly not someone like Danielle. Beth was astonished that Kent would find this hard, brusque woman appealing. Yes, superficially Danielle was attractive—okay, gorgeous—but she seemed to lack all the qualities Beth had expected him to value.

  “If you did remarry, I assumed you’d choose a vet.”

  “Oh, my goodness…” Without thinking, Beth eased her foot off the brake and the car swerved on the icy road and went sideways. “Hold on,” she cried.

  Kent braced his arms against the dashboard until the car came to a complete stop on the side of the road. “You okay?” he demanded.

  “I’m fine…what about you?”

  “My heart is somewhere in my throat,” he said, “but other than that I’ll survive. What just happened? I didn’t see anything in the road.”

  “It’s Ted.”

  “Ted? Who’s Ted?”

  “The local vet… He said he’d stop by this afternoon and I need to be there.”

  “Give him a call,” Kent muttered, as if it was of little concern.

  “I will.” She reached across for her handbag and grabbe
d her cell, pushing the button that would connect her with him.

  “You have him on speed dial?” Kent asked with raised eyebrows.

  Beth ignored the question and waited impatiently for Ted to answer. After four long rings, the phone went to voice mail. She exhaled loudly, then carefully put the car in Reverse and turned around.

  “Where are you going now?” Kent asked.

  She would’ve thought the answer was obvious. “To Ted’s place. He’s probably with an animal, so he couldn’t get the phone.”

  “You could’ve left a message.”

  He was right, she could have, but that seemed rather unfriendly. Besides, she wanted to explain. “His place isn’t far from here,” she said, instead of responding to his comment.

  The silence returned.

  Again it was Kent who broke it. “Do you see a lot of this Tim fellow?”

  “Ted,” she corrected. “About once or twice a week, I guess.” She downplayed the veterinarian’s role in her life, which had taken on more significance in the past three or four months. There’d been a shift in their relationship, beginning in late September, when he’d come over after caring for a sick goat nearby. He’d stayed for a glass of wine, followed by a leisurely dinner.

  A week later they’d met in town, and Ted had insisted he owed her dinner. That was how it had started, almost innocently. Recently, however, it’d become more. Ted had kissed her, and that had been a turning point. Lately, Ted had taken to dropping in during the evenings, and Beth looked forward to his visits.

  “Any particular reason Ted was coming to the house?” Kent asked nonchalantly.

  “Nothing formal, if that’s what you mean. To wish us a merry Christmas. And I want him to meet the girls. He has a line on someone who wants a puppy, too.”

  “So it’s serious? Between you and him?”

  “We have a lot in common,” she said, well aware that she hadn’t really answered the question.

  Ted’s driveway came into view, and she signaled, then drove down the long gravel road that led to his home and his veterinary clinic.

  Ted was in the yard clearing snow. When he saw her car, he smiled and waved, then leaned his shovel against a tree.

  Beth parked and turned off the engine, slipping out of the car.

  Walking over to meet her, Ted grinned from ear to ear. “Good to see you, Beth,” he said. He didn’t kiss her, no doubt because he’d noticed there was a man with her.

  Beth tried to see the veterinarian as Kent might. Ted was a few years older, a big man with large, strong hands and an easy smile. He had a receding hairline, visible despite his wool hat. His gentle nature comforted animals—and people.

  “Kent Morehouse,” Kent said, stepping forward, his hand extended.

  Ted pulled off his glove to shake hands but his gaze immediately shot to Beth.

  “Kent is my ex-husband. He’s here to spend Christmas with the girls,” Beth said, feeling uncomfortable saying anything more.

  “Oh, yes. You mentioned that Kent was planning to visit,” Ted commented.

  “I was just driving to the Hardings’ to drop off a puppy when I recalled that you were coming over today,” she said quickly.

  “Well, seeing that you’ve got visitors, perhaps I shouldn’t—”

  “No, please, I want you to,” Beth said, eager to reassure him. “In fact, I was hoping you’d stay for dinner.”

  “Dinner?” Kent repeated, frowning.

  “Yes, dinner,” she said pointedly. “I’m making lasagna. A family recipe.”

  “My grandmother was Italian,” Kent added in a meaningful voice, essentially explaining that this was his family’s recipe.

  “Kent’s, uh, friend is with the girls, preparing a Caesar salad and garlic bread.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “It will be,” Beth said. “Please say you’ll join us.”

  Ignoring Kent, Ted stared at her for a long moment. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  Ted nodded decisively. “Then I accept. Thank you. What time would you like me there?”

  Beth was about to suggest as soon as possible, but before she could, Kent spoke.

  “I believe Beth mentioned something about dinner being ready around five.”

  “Yes, five. We’re eating early so we won’t be late for church,” she murmured.

  “Can I bring anything? Wine? Dessert?”

  “I’ve got everything covered, but thanks.” She wanted to visit longer, but Kent had already walked back to the car and stood with the door open, waiting for her.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Ted promised. “And I’ve got a couple bottles of a nice red. To go with the lasagna.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and hoped Ted understood how much she appreciated his willingness to show, once again, what a good friend he was. As good a friend as Danielle.…

  Twelve

  Justine Gunderson busied herself in the kitchen, enjoying an afternoon free from the responsibility of managing the Victorian Tea Room. She’d given the staff an extra day off so they could celebrate Christmas Eve with their own families.

  The holiday season at the tearoom had been hectic, with a number of special high teas. Her favorite had been Tea with Santa. The children had been so excited, and Santa, a theater friend of Bob Beldon’s, had played the role with verve and charm.

  In a few years Livvy would be able to go, but for now the toddler, at nearly eighteen months, was too young for Santa in his frightening red suit.

  The back door opened, and her husband entered the house. Seth was a blond Swede who towered well over six feet. Just seeing him made Justine’s heart react with a surge of love. She’d never expected to marry, let alone have a family of her own. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to avoid serious relationships…until she’d worked on her ten-year high school reunion. That was when she’d run into Seth Gunderson, who was also on the reunion committee.

  She’d known Seth nearly her entire life. He’d been her twin brother’s best friend. As irrational as it sounded, after the accident that claimed Jordan’s life, Justine had wanted to blame Seth. If he’d been with her brother at the lake that day, Jordan might not have died. Seth would have noticed that her brother hadn’t surfaced after diving off the floating dock. He would’ve gone after him. If only Seth had been there.…

  But he hadn’t. It’d been Justine who’d held her brother’s lifeless body on the dock until the paramedics showed up.

  That fateful summer afternoon had forever changed her world.

  Seth smiled at her as he stripped off his coat.

  She smiled back and felt, as she so often had in the past, that Jordan would have approved of her marrying Seth Gunderson. Through the years, at various times, Justine had sensed her twin’s presence. During those indescribable moments of connection, she hadn’t felt the horrific loss of her brother; instead, she’d felt his blessing. Jordan seemed to be standing right beside her, smiling and happy, teasing her the way he’d once done, full of life and boyish humor.

  The first time it’d happened was shortly after she’d given birth to Leif. Still in the hospital, exhausted and woozy from the drugs, she’d closed her eyes. Suddenly, Jordan was there before her, and he wore the biggest, goofiest grin she’d ever seen. He was telling her how happy he was for her and Seth; she was sure of it. She could almost hear him saying how excited he was that they’d decided to name
their son after him: Leif Jordan Gunderson.

  “Daddy, Daddy.” Leif shot across the room, dropping his handheld computer game on the way, with Penny barking at his heels. “Santa’s coming tonight!”

  “He sure is.” Lifting the boy high above his head, Seth nuzzled Leif’s tummy while the little boy squealed in delight.

  Hearing her brother, Livvy toddled out, clutching her teddy bear under her left arm, pressing its face against her side. Livvy and that silly bear were inseparable. She’d be getting her first doll from Santa this Christmas. Justine sincerely hoped Livvy would enjoy the doll as much as she did her teddy bear.

  “How’s my girl?” Seth asked, setting Leif down and reaching for his daughter. He planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. She, too, squealed with delight.

  “Hey, don’t I get one of those kisses?” Justine teased.

  “You bet.” He came to her in the kitchen and slipped his arms around her from behind, planting his hands over her still-flat stomach. “How long have you been working in here?”

  “A while.” The family cookbook her grandmother, Charlotte Jefferson Rhodes, had compiled, lay open in front of her. Various ingredients, organized according to the recipes, were spread along the counter.

  “Seems to me you were in the kitchen when I left for work this morning. Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Stop worrying, okay?” Hosting the family for Christmas Eve dinner required a lot of extra preparation, but Justine never turned away from a challenge.

  “Did you bake those homemade rolls I like so much?” Seth asked, eyeing the covered breadbasket.

  “I did that first thing this morning.”

  Seth grinned. “I hope you doubled the batch.”

  “I did.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Justine reached up and kissed him. “I promise you can have as many as you want.”

  “How are you feeling?” Seth asked.

  “I feel wonderful. I always do when I’m pregnant.”

  Seth closed his eyes. “I don’t know how we let this happen,” he said as he feathered kisses down the side of her neck.