A Home for Christmas

by Deborah Grace Staley

  “I delivered a baby today and soiled them. Blake gave me his shirt while he washed and dried them.”

  He raked her with an assessing gaze. “Couldn't he have given you some pants as well?” He refocused on Blake, wildly waving the shotgun at him.

  Blake frowned, the doc knew better than to handle a gun like that.

  “And why did you bring her here instead of to our home?” He took a step forward and continued, “I'll not have you sullying my grandniece's reputation, Ferguson. I demand satisfaction!”

  “What?” Had he just been challenged? To a duel? Had the old doc finally lost it?

  Like lightning, Janice grasped the barrel of the shotgun, tilted it to the ceiling, and then wrenched it to the side. Blake closed his eyes and prayed. When no shot discharged, he opened one eye a bit to find Janice holding the weapon. She stood there wearing nothing but his flannel shirt, looking regal and damned sexy. And incredibly angry.

  “Uncle Charles, what has gotten into you? Coming over here, interfering in my affairs, and threatening Blake with a gun? You could have seriously injured him, yourself, or all three of us.” She expertly opened the shotgun and gasped. “At least you had the good sense not to load it.”

  “Well,” he blustered, “I wanted to scare the boy. Not kill him.”

  He'd certainly accomplished that.

  She handed the weapon back to her uncle. “I am going to find my clothes. We can discuss what just happened here when I return. While I am gone, I expect the two of you to be civil to each other.”

  Doc Prescott grumbled something under his breath. Blake tried to refrain from patting himself down to reassure himself he wasn't bleeding from a bullet wound.

  She pointed a finger at her uncle. “Promise me.”

  “Oh, very well.”

  “Blake?”

  He held up his hands and took a step back. He wasn't about to further antagonize the man.

  Janice turned and walked to the back of the house, toward the kitchen.

  Doc Prescott didn't waste any time. He propped the shotgun by the door and marched into the room, pinning him with an angry glare. “How dare you, Blake Ferguson. I turn my back for one second, and you compromise my grandniece. This is not the behavior of a proper gentleman. I expected more of you.”

  “There was no compromisin' goin' on here, sir, I swear. My intentions toward Janice are honorable.”

  “I find nothing about this situation honorable. And, you haven't spoken to me. Not one word about your intentions, honorable or otherwise.”

  “I haven't had a chance. Me and Janice have been tryin' to sort it all out.”

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “I'd like to court your grandniece, sir. I'd like your blessing, but I'll be seein' her with our without it.”

  “Insolent, ill-mannered—”

  “Uncle!”

  Janice hurried into the room and didn't stop until she stood between the two men. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you behaving this way?”

  “I'm behaving as any responsible guardian would.”

  Janice laughed. “Uncle, I am well beyond the age of needing a guardian.”

  “Regardless—”

  It was all Blake could do to keep from rolling his eyes. The older man swung his gaze to his as if expecting an explanation. “Janice was exhausted after the day she had, and I wasn't comfortable leaving her alone with you gone to your cabin. That's why I brought her here. Sir,” he added.

  Doc Prescott nodded. “Harrumph! “ He took Janice's arm. “I'll speak to my grandniece regarding your request. If she is inclined toward you, I'll consider permitting you to see her.”

  He folded his hands in front of him. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Excuse me?” Janice said.

  “Come, dear. Let me take you home. We'll discuss this on the way.”

  “Your medical bag and equipment are still in my truck.”

  “She won't be needing any of that tonight,” Doc Prescott supplied. “Just bring it by the clinic in the morning, Ferguson. Janice.”

  He ushered her out of the room. Janice looked back over her shoulder at him. Blake just smiled and thought, Welcome to Angel Ridge.

  Out on the front porch, Janice wasted no time in questioning her uncle. “What was that about, Uncle?”

  “Here now, my dear. Let me get you settled in the car. It's colder than a witch's—well, it's cold out here.”

  She hardly knew where to begin. She'd never experienced anything like that in her life. Once he had her settled in the roomy interior of his Cadillac and had gotten behind the wheel, she asked again, “What were you and Blake talking about when I came into the room?”

  He put the car in motion. “Let's discuss this when we're safe and warm in front of the fireplace in our parlor, shall we.”

  “I'd prefer to discuss it now, if you don't mind. You were saying something about Blake having a request and me being inclined?”

  “The Ferguson boy has asked my permission to court you.”

  “He did?”

  “Albeit under duress, he did indeed. I dare say that had I not forced the issue, he wouldn't have approached me at all.” He shook his head. “Young people these days. There's a proper way to handle these things . . . ”

  Janice bit her lip to hold back a laugh. “So, what did you tell him?”

  “I told him I would discuss it with you to see if you were inclined toward him.”

  “I see.” She stared out the window, a feeling of pleasant warmth spreading through her limbs. Was this how it felt to be cared for? If so, she could get used to the feeling.

  “Before tonight, I would have said the Ferguson boy was a proper young gentleman, suitable for you to spend time with. Now, I'm not so sure.”

  Janice was glad for the dark interior of the car that hid her blush. “Oh, Uncle. It was nothing, really. We just talked. He made me soup.”

  “Harrumph!”

  “Honestly.”

  “I believe you were innocent in the matter, dear. However, I'm not so sure what might have happened had I not come back and, well, interrupted whatever was about the transpire.”

  The giggle slipped out before she could stop it.

  “Young lady!”

  She pressed her lips together. “I'm sorry.”

  He pulled into the drive. When he had placed the car in park and killed the ignition, he asked, “Janice, do you have a tendre for this young man?”

  She pressed her hand to her uncle's cheek and said, “I like him very much.”

  His sigh was heavy. “Very well, then.”

  “You approve?”

  “I admit, I had selfishly hoped to have you to myself for a bit longer, but if this is what you want, I'll not stand in your way.” He held up a warning finger. “But I'll have my eye on that young buck. If he so much as—”

  She grasped her uncle's hand and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I'm sure he'll be the proper gentleman.”

  “See that he is. Now let's get inside. I want to hear about your day.”

  Janice walked arm in arm with her uncle up to the house. Against all odds, she'd found an uncle willing to act as a father to her and a wildly sexy man willing to navigate old-fashioned social mores to date her. Could she be any more blessed? Could this be real? Could it last?

  She had to admit, all these events combined to fill her heart near to bursting with hope for the future. A future where loneliness would become a distant memory.

  Janice and her uncle spent the next day going through patient charts and just simply getting to know each other better. As the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, he said, “I think I'll head down to the diner for supper. Dixie's fixin' chicken fried steak. Would you like to join me?”

  She could feel her arteries hardening just thinking about it. “No thanks, Uncle,” Janice said. “I think I'll just make a salad and curl up with a book by the fire.”

  “You're sure?”

  “Yes. You go and enjoy your
self.”

  “I hate leaving you alone.”

  “Don't worry about me. I'm used to being alone.”

  “Something that needs remedying.”

  Janice smiled, thinking how he hadn't liked her remedy of the night before, but linked arms with her uncle, and ushered him to the front of the house. “I'm in no danger of being lonely while you're at the diner having supper. Are you meeting Miss Estelee?”

  “Not tonight.”

  At the front door, she asked, “So, tell me. Will we be hearing wedding bells soon?”

  Her uncle chuckled. “Only if they're ringing for you.”

  Determined to get to the bottom of things, Janice pressed, “You spend so much time with Miss Estelee, I just thought—”

  “Oh no, dear.” He held up his hands and shook his head. “It's much too late for an old cuss like me to be contemplating marriage.”

  “Were you ever married?”

  “No.” He said the word immediately. Succinctly.

  Janice helped him into his coat and held out his hat. “I don't understand.”

  “Nothing to understand.” He smiled and patted her cheek, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He took his hat and said, “Can I bring you anything? A piece of cake or pie?”

  “No, but thanks for asking.”

  “Call the diner if you need me.”

  Janice watched as he walked away. Leaving the porch light on, she went back to the kitchen and removed salad fixings from the refrigerator. It was so quiet. That was the one thing she still hadn't gotten used to. She walked over to the parlor and put in a Christmas CD. With the volume up, she could hear it in the kitchen. Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. Much better.

  As she tore lettuce and put it on a plate, she sighed. She and her uncle had spent the day going through patient files so she could acquaint herself with each of the town's residents. It was as if her taking over as town doctor was a foregone conclusion. Despite the fact that she was far from committing, disappointing her uncle prevented her from saying as much. And besides, after the day she'd had yesterday, patient knowledge couldn't hurt.

  Meow.

  The kitten wove its way in a figure eight around her feet. “How do you keep getting in here, girl?” Janice picked up the cat and stroked her fur. She purred her pleasure. The mechanical whirring of the doorbell startled the kitten right out of her hands.

  “Who could that be?”

  Janice smoothed her hands down the legs of her jeans as she retraced her steps to the front door. Blake was silhouetted through the lace curtains, bathed in the soft porch light. She tucked her hair behind her ears and opened the door.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.” She rubbed her arms against the blast of cold air coming in through the front door.

  He wore a heavy, tan suede coat that made his shoulders look impossibly wide. The collar was trimmed in worsted wool. He looked casually comfortable in dark jeans, boots and a black Stetson. Removing his hat, he smiled down at her, that sexy half smile that pulled at one corner of his mouth. Focusing on his mouth was a mistake. It reminded her of his kisses.

  “This is a surprise.”

  “A pleasant one, I hope. What are you doing?”

  “Freezing.” She shivered. “Come inside.”

  “I have a better idea. Why don't you put on your coat, hat and gloves, and come out with me?” He stood aside giving her a clear view of a horse and buggy parked at the curb.

  “Blake—”

  “Don't ask questions. Just come. I want to acquaint you with some Angel Ridge holiday traditions.”

  She didn't need much convincing. The salad would keep. “Okay.”

  Blake helped her into the heavy coat hanging by the door. While she was putting on her mittens, he pulled a knit cap down over her ears and pressed a quick kiss to her lips while he wrapped her scarf around her neck. Janice leaned forward to continue the contact, but found herself being pulled by her scarf outside onto the porch then down the sidewalk toward a waiting antique carriage. The cold breeze took her breath away.

  He jammed his hat back on his head. “I'll have you warmed up in no time.”

  “I can't believe you did this.” The shiny red carriage was hitched to a beautiful white horse. “Where did you, I mean, how did you find a horse and carriage?”

  “It's mine,” he said as he helped her up. The seats had beautiful soft, white leather upholstery. “I store it out at my parents' farm. I keep my horses there, too.”

  “The horse is beautiful. What's its name?”

  Blake had joined her in the carriage and was tucking layers of blankets around her. Warmth surrounded her, especially with Blake's side pressed so close to hers.

  “This is Daisy.”

  “Oh, she should have daisies in her halter.”

  “We do that for the Fourth of July parade. The bell harness is more the style for winter. Snug and warm?”

  “Very. It feels like there's heat in the floor.”

  “There are warm bricks under your feet. That's what folks used to do when they had to travel around in one of these in the dead of winter.” He took up the reins and said, “Get up, girl.”

  They moved slowly down the street toward town. The cold hit her face making her cheeks and nose feel icy. She burrowed closer to Blake's side, wrapping an arm around his.

  “I could get used to this.”

  She gazed up at him. “Me, too.” She drank in the sight of him. The strong angular lines of his face, the way his long, dark lashes outlined his incredible eyes. He looked even better in a Stetson. He was definitely easy on the eyes. Looking at him for the rest of her life certainly wouldn't be a hardship. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I thought we'd take a turn around Main Street. The town's real pretty at night with the gas streetlights burnin' and the tree lit up. The holiday window displays are nice, too.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “So how was your day?”

  “Uneventful.”

  “Guess that was a welcome change from yesterday.”

  “Yes. I slept in this morning. Can't remember the last time I did that.”

  “You earned it. Oh, I was out in the direction of the Crawfords today, so I swung by.”

  “How are Sally and the baby?”

  “Don't you mean Sally and Thorn?” He chuckled. “Real good. They asked me to thank you again for them. Sally sent something for me to give you, too.”

  “Really? What?”

  “It's in the boot. I'll give it to you later.”

  Janice turned and peered over the high leather seat back. “This thing has a trunk?”

  “Yep.”

  He turned the carriage onto Main Street to slowly make the loop around both sides.

  “Evenin' folks.”

  “Constable Harris,” Blake acknowledged the welcome.

  “Buggy's lookin' real fine, Blake.”

  “Thanks, Henry.”

  He tipped his hat. “Enjoy your evenin'.”

  Blake leveled a look on Janice that made her toes curl. “We will,” he murmured.

  They rolled down Main past Ferguson's, the Apothecary's and the bank. She looked at the buildings as if for the first time, taking in every detail. When they had started around the circle, they passed First Presbyterian. It was a tall, impressive church made of golden stone with a square bell tower and an elaborate round stained glass window. The double wooden doors weren't square, but bullet-shaped with wrought iron hardware.

  “This church looks older than First Baptist.”

  “The congregation's older, but the building is actually the church's second. The first one burned down sometime in the late 1800s. They rebuilt shortly afterward. So, First Baptist has an older structure.”

  “Sounds like the source of debate on who has the oldest church.”

  Blake laughed. “You catch on quick.”

  Janice just shook her head and smiled. She knew nothing about the churches in her area. “It mu
st be so nice to know the history of where you live. I can't tell you anything about my neighborhood.”

  “Livin' in the city's different. There's just no community feeling there. The pace is so much faster, I guess there's no time for such things.”

  “It's very impersonal,” she agreed. Up until now, that had suited her. But since she'd stepped foot in Angel Ridge, she'd had an unsettled feeling about her life in the city. She looked up at Blake and was at least able to admit that he made her want something different for her life. He made it seem possible.

  A spotlight illuminated the town library. A small tree out front was decorated and pine wreaths graced the oak door beneath an arched entryway. “That is such a beautiful building.” She just couldn't get over it: a library that looked like a castle.

  “Next to the churches, it's the finest structure in town. The McKays saw to that.”

  “They own the bank, right?”

  “Yep. They own the library, too. The new computer wing I've been working on should be finished in a few more days.”

  “You've been working on it?” she teased.

  “Well, I've been supervising the work,” he corrected.

  “I went by there at lunch and checked out some books. Everyone seemed proud and excited about the new addition.”

  “Yeah, well, it doesn't take much to get folks in a small town excited.”

  They admired a beautiful nativity scene that had been set out in the front lawn of the First Baptist Church. It was an equally impressive tall brick structure with round, white columns. Continuing down the other side of the street, he pulled to a stop at the angel monument and Christmas tree. The monument needed no ornamentation, but it had a thick velvet ribbon secured to its pedestal. The huge Christmas tree took her breath away. She'd never seen anything so beautiful. The robes of the golden angel adorning the top flowed in the gentle breeze, but the dark night obscured other details. It needed a spotlight.

  He eased an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Kinda gets to you, doesn't it?”

  She touched his wrist at her shoulder, liking the way she fit against him. “It feels like I stepped back in time.” She turned toward him. “Do you think it looked like this a hundred years ago?”

  “I'd say the storefronts have changed, but other than that, it's probably pretty close.”