A Cedar Cove Christmas

by Debbie Macomber

  “It’s me,” she said shakily, half afraid Linc would break in and start yelling at her. Grace had stepped out of the kitchen to give her privacy, a courtesy she appreciated.

  “I’m in Cedar Cove,” she continued. “I’ll be home sometime Christmas Day after I speak to David’s parents. Probably later in the evening. Please don’t try to find me. I’m with…friends. Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.” With that she replaced the receiver.

  She saw that Grace had moved into the dining room, setting the table. “Thank you,” Mary Jo told her.

  “You’re very welcome. Is your soup still hot?”

  Mary Jo had forgotten about that. “I’ll check.”

  “If not, let me know and I’ll reheat it in the microwave.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she murmured. Even if it was stone-cold, she wouldn’t have said so, not after everything Grace had done for her.

  But as Mary Jo tried her first spoonful, she realized the temperature was perfect. She finished the entire bowl, then ate all the crackers and drank her tea. As she brought her dishes to the sink, Grace returned to the kitchen. “My daughters will be here at six,” she said, glancing at the clock. “And my daughter-in-law and her family should be back soon. We’re having dinner together and then we’re leaving for the Christmas Eve service at our church.”

  “How nice.” Mary Jo had missed attending church. She and her brothers just seemed to stop going after her parents’ funeral. She still went occasionally but hadn’t in quite a while, and her brothers didn’t go at all.

  “Would you like to join us?”

  The invitation was so genuine that for a moment Mary Jo seriously considered it. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I should.”

  “Why not?” Grace pressed. “We’d love to have you.”

  “Thank you,” Mary Jo said again, “but I should probably stay quiet and rest, like the EMT suggested.”

  Grace nodded. “Yes, you should take his advice, although we’d love it if you’d at least join us for dinner.”

  The invitation moved her so much that Mary Jo felt tears spring to her eyes. Not only had Grace and her husband taken her into their home, they wanted to include her in their holiday celebration.

  “I can’t believe you’d want me here with your family,” she said, struggling to get the words out.

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Grace asked. She seemed astonished by the comment. “You’re our guest.”

  “But it’s Christmas and you’ll have your…your family here.” She found it difficult to speak.

  “Yes, and they’ll be delighted to meet you.”

  “But this isn’t a time for strangers.”

  “Now, just a minute,” Grace said. “Don’t you remember the original Christmas story?”

  “Of course I do.” Mary Jo had heard it all her life.

  “Mary and Joseph didn’t have anywhere to stay, either, and strangers offered them a place,” Grace reminded her. “A stable,” she added with a smile.

  “But I doubt those generous folks asked them to join the family for dinner,” Mary Jo teased.

  “That part we don’t know because the Bible doesn’t say, but I have to believe that anyone who’d lend their stable to those young travelers would see to their other needs, as well.” Grace’s warm smile wrapped its way around Mary Jo’s heart. “Join us for part of the evening, okay? I’d love it if you met the girls, and I know they’d enjoy meeting you.”

  Mary Jo didn’t immediately respond. Although she would’ve liked to meet Grace’s family, she wasn’t feeling quite right. “May I think about it?”

  “Of course,” Grace said. “You do whatever you need to do.”

  Leaning forward in the chair, Mary Jo supported her lower back with both hands, trying to ease the persistent ache. Sitting had become difficult in the last few weeks. It was as if the baby had latched his or her foot around one of her ribs and intended to hang on. Mary Jo was beginning to wonder if she’d ever find a comfortable position again.

  “Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

  Grace surveyed the kitchen. “No, I’ve got everything under control. I thought I’d sit down for a few minutes and have a cup of tea with you.”

  Mary Jo nodded. “Yes, please. I’d like that.”

  “So would I,” the other woman said. “Here, let me make some fresh tea. And what about some Christmas shortbread to go with it?”

  10

  At the fire station, Mack McAfee sat by himself in the kitchen, downing yet another cup of coffee. The only call so far that day had been for the young pregnant woman who’d had the dizzy spell at the library. For some reason, she’d stayed in his mind ever since.

  Because he wasn’t married, Mack had volunteered to work Christmas Eve and part of Christmas Day, allowing one of the other firefighters to spend the time with family. Unfortunately, his mother was none too happy that he’d agreed to work over the holidays.

  Mack’s parents lived in Cedar Cove and his sister had, too, until she’d left several months ago, her heart broken by that cowpoke who used to work for Cliff Harding. Linnette had taken off with no plan or destination and ended up in some podunk town in North Dakota. She seemed to love her new home out there in the middle of nowhere. Mack didn’t understand it, but then it wasn’t his life.

  He was happy for Linnette, knowing she’d found her niche. She’d always said she wanted to live and work in a small rural town. As an experienced physician assistant, Linnette had a lot to offer a community like Buffalo Valley, North Dakota.

  Gloria, Mack’s oldest sister, had been given up for adoption as an infant; their relationship had only come to light in the past few years. Mack was just beginning to know her and so far he’d discovered that they had a surprising amount in common, despite their very different upbringings. She’d promised to stop by the house and spend part of Christmas with their parents, but she, too, was on the duty roster for tonight.

  When Gloria had first moved into the area—with the goal of reconnecting with her birth family—she’d worked for the Bremerton police. However, she’d recently taken a job with the sheriff’s department in Cedar Cove.

  Mack’s cell phone, attached to his waistband, chirped. He reached for it, not bothering to look at the screen. He already knew who was calling.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Merry Christmas.” Her cheerful greeting was strained and not entirely convincing.

  “Thanks. Same to you and Dad.”

  “How’s everything?”

  His mother was at loose ends. Not having any of her children with her during the holidays was hard for her. “It’s been pretty quiet here this afternoon,” he said.

  Corrie allowed an audible sigh to escape. “I wish you hadn’t volunteered to work on Christmas.”

  This wasn’t the first time his mother had brought it up. But as the firefighter most recently hired, he would’ve been assigned this shift anyway.

  “It’ll be lonely with just your father and me.” Her voice fell and Mack sighed, wishing he could tell her what she wanted to hear.

  “It’ll be a wonderful Christmas,” he said, sounding as positive as he could.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she agreed in a listless voice. “I decided to cook a ham this year instead of turkey. It’s far less work and we had a turkey at Thanksgiving. Of course, I’m going to bake your father’s favorite potato casserole and that green bean dish everyone likes.”

  Mack didn’t understand why his mother felt she had to review her dinner menu with him, but he let her chatter on, knowing it made her feel better.

  “I was thinking,” she said, abruptly changing the subject.

  “Yes, Mom?”

  “You should get married.”

  If Mack had been swallowing a drink at the time he would’ve choked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re settling down here in Cedar Cove?”

  He noticed that she’d made it a question. �
��Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I would,” she said. “You have a steady job.” She didn’t add that this was perhaps his tenth career change in the last six years. Mack was easily bored and tended to jump from job to job. He’d worked part-time for the post office, done construction, delivered for UPS and held half a dozen other short-term jobs since dropping out of college. He’d also renovated a rundown house and sold it for a tidy profit.

  Mack’s restlessness had contributed to the often acrimonious relationship he’d had with his father. Roy McAfee hadn’t approved of Mack’s need for change. He felt Mack was irresponsible and hadn’t taken his life seriously enough. In some ways Mack supposed his father was right. Still, his new job with the fire department seemed to suit him perfectly, giving him the variety, the excitement and the camaraderie he craved. It also gave him a greater sense of purpose than anything else he’d done.

  He and his dad got along better these days. Roy had actually apologized for his attitude toward Mack, which had come as a real shock. It had made a big difference in their relationship, though, and for that Mack was grateful.

  “You think I should be married,” he repeated, as though it was a foreign word whose meaning eluded him.

  “You’re twenty-eight.”

  “I know how old I am, Mom.”

  “It’s time,” she said simply.

  “Really?” He found his mother’s decree almost humorous.

  “Have you met anyone special?” she asked.

  “Mom!” he protested. Yet the picture of Mary Jo Wyse shot instantly into his mind. He knew from the conversation he’d overheard at the library that she was pregnant and single and that David Rhodes was her baby’s father. He’d also heard a reference to Charlotte and Ben Rhodes. He was familiar with them, but completely in the dark about David.

  “I’m not trying to pressure you,” his mother continued. “It’s just that it would be nice to have grandchildren one day.”

  Mack chuckled. “If you want, I’ll get to work on that first thing.”

  “Mack,” she chastised, “you know what I mean.”

  He did but still enjoyed teasing her. While she was on the phone, he decided to take the opportunity to find out what he could about the father of Mary Jo’s baby. “Can you tell me anything about David Rhodes?” he asked.

  “David Rhodes,” his mother said slowly. “Is he related to Ben Rhodes?”

  “His son, I believe.”

  “Let me go ask your father.”

  “That’s okay, Mom, don’t bother. It’s no big deal.”

  “Why’d you ask, then?”

  “Oh, someone mentioned him, that’s all.” Mack was reluctant to bring up Mary Jo; for one thing, it’d been a chance encounter and he wasn’t likely to see her again. Clearly she wasn’t from here.

  “Mack. Tell me.”

  “I treated a young woman at the library this morning.”

  “The pregnant girl?” Her voice rose excitedly.

  Word sure spread fast in a small town, something Mack wasn’t accustomed to yet. “How do you know about Mary Jo?” he asked.

  “Mary Jo,” his mother said wistfully. “What a nice name.”

  She had a nice face to go with it, too, Mack mused and then caught himself. He had no business thinking about her. None whatsoever.

  “I met Shirley Bliss in the grocery store earlier,” his mother went on to say. “The last thing I wanted to do was make a dash to the store. You know how busy they get the day before a big holiday.”

  Actually, he didn’t, not from experience, but it seemed logical enough.

  “Anyway, I ran out of evaporated milk. I needed it for that green Jell-o salad I make every Christmas.”

  Mack remembered that salad well; it was one of his favorites. His mother had insisted on making it, he noted, even though Mack wouldn’t be joining the family for dinner.

  “I could’ve used regular milk, I guess, but I was afraid it wouldn’t taste the same. I don’t like to use substitutes if it can be avoided.”

  “Shirley Bliss, Mom,” he reminded her.

  “Oh, yes. Shirley. I saw her at the store. She was with her daughter, Tanni.”

  “O-k-a-y.” Mack dragged out the word, hoping she’d get to the point.

  “That’s a lovely name, isn’t it?” his mother asked.

  “Her given name is Tannith.”

  “Tanni’s the one who told you about Mary Jo?” he asked, bringing her back to the discussion.

  “No, Shirley did.” She hesitated. “Well, on second thought, it was Tanni’s boyfriend, Shaw, who told her, so I guess in a manner of speaking it was her daughter.”

  “And how did Shaw hear?” he pressed, losing track of all these names.

  “Apparently Mary Jo came into Mocha Mama’s this morning and was asking him a lot of questions.”

  “Oh.”

  “And he suggested she ask Grace Harding about David Rhodes.”

  “I see.” Well, he was beginning to, anyway.

  “Shirley said Shaw told her that Mary Jo looked like she was about to deliver that baby any minute.”

  “She’s due in two weeks.”

  “My goodness! Do you think David Rhodes is the baby’s father?” his mother breathed, as if suddenly making the connection. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  He already knew as much but preferred not to contribute to the gossip obviously making the rounds. Regardless, Mack couldn’t get Mary Jo out of his mind. “Did Shirley happen to say where Mary Jo is right now?” Maybe someone should check up on her. Mack had recommended she rest for the remainder of the day but he didn’t like the idea of her being alone.

  “No,” his mother said. “She’ll be fine, won’t she?”

  “I assume so….”

  “Good.”

  “Where’s Dad?” Mack asked.

  His mother laughed softly. “Where do you think he is?”

  It didn’t take a private eye—which his father was—to know the answer to that. “Shopping,” Mack said with a grin.

  “Right. Your father’s so efficient about everything else, yet he leaves gift-buying until the last possible minute.”

  “I remember that one year when the only store open was the pharmacy,” he recalled. “He brought you a jigsaw puzzle of the Tower of London, two romance novels and some nail polish remover.”

  “And he was so proud of himself,” Corrie said fondly.

  “We all had a good time putting that puzzle together, didn’t we?” It’d been one of their better Christmases, and the family still did jigsaw puzzles every holiday. A small family tradition had come about as a result of that particular Christmas and his father’s last-minute gift.

  “You’ll call in the morning?” his mother asked.

  “I will,” Mack promised. “And I’ll stop by the house as soon as I’m relieved. It’ll be late tomorrow afternoon. Save me some leftovers, okay?”

  “Of course,” his mother murmured. “Gloria’s schedule is the reverse of yours, so she’s coming over in the morning.” Corrie sounded slightly more cheerful as she said, “At least we’ll see you both for a little while.”

  After a few words of farewell, Mack snapped his cell phone shut and clipped it back on his waistband.

  He’d no sooner started getting everything ready for that night’s dinner than Brandon Hutton sauntered into the kitchen. “You got company.”

  “Me?” Mack couldn’t imagine who’d come looking for him. He was new in town and didn’t know many people yet.

  “Some guy and a woman,” Brandon elaborated.

  “Did they give you a name?” Mack asked.

  “Sorry, no.”

  Mack walked toward the front of the building and as he neared he heard voices—one of them unmistakably his sister’s.

  “Linnette!” he said, bursting into the room.

  “Mack.” She threw herself into his arms for a fierce hug.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. The last he�
��d heard she was in Buffalo Valley and intended to stay there for the holidays.

  She slipped one arm around his waist. “It’s a surprise. Pete suggested it and offered to drive me, so here I am.”

  Mack turned to the other man. In a phone conversation the month before, Linnette had told him she’d met a farmer and that they were seeing each other. “Mack McAfee,” he said, offering his hand.

  Pete’s handshake was firm. “Pleased to meet you, Mack.”

  “Happy to meet you, too.” He turned back to his sister. “Mom doesn’t know?”

  Linnette giggled. “She doesn’t have a clue. Dad, either. It’s going to be a total shock to both of them.”

  “When did you arrive?”

  “About five minutes ago. We decided to come and see you first, then we’re going to the house.”

  “Dad’s out doing his Christmas shopping.”

  Linnette laughed and looked at Pete. “What did I tell you?”

  “That he’d be shopping,” Pete said laconically.

  “Mom’s busy cooking, I’ll bet.” This comment was directed at Mack.

  “My favorite salad,” he informed her. “Even though I won’t be there, she’s making it for me. I’m already looking forward to the leftovers. Oh, and she decided on ham this year.”

  Linnette laughed again. “She discussed her Christmas menu with you?”

  “In minute detail.”

  “Poor Mom,” Linnette murmured.

  “I wish I could see the expression on her face when you walk in the door.”

  “I love that we’re going to surprise her.” Linnette’s wide grin was perhaps the best Christmas gift he could have received. His sister, happy again.

  Mack hadn’t seen her smile like this in…well, a year anyway.

  “Call me later and let me know how long it takes Mom to stop crying.”

  “I will,” Linnette said.

  His sister and Pete left for the house, and Mack returned to the firehouse kitchen, where he was assigned cooking duty that evening. He resumed chopping onions for the vat of chili he planned to make—how was that for Christmas Eve dinner? He caught himself wishing he could be at his parents’ place tonight, after all. Although he’d just met Pete, Mack sensed that he was a solid, hard-working, no-nonsense man. Exactly what Linnette needed, and someone Mack wanted to know better.