A Texas Christmas Homecoming

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  Even if she didn’t love Lyle Wood, she’d marry him all over again to get her daughter, Katie. But would she do it all over with Eli? That was a tough one. Even more than a decade later, she couldn’t quite think like the poet Tennyson and believe “’tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

  As far as Rachel was concerned she didn’t need romantic notions of lavender-scented Cinderella dreams. Romance had only caused her pain. Besides, she didn’t need a prince to save her. She was doing just fine on her own.

  *

  Forty-five minutes later, Rachel had showered and Savannah had her primped, plucked, teased, and made up so well that Rachel almost didn’t recognize herself.

  “What do you think?” Savannah asked, as she stepped back to survey her work.

  “I think I’d love for you to come over every morning and work your magic,” Rachel said, using a hand mirror to look at the back of her hair. Her red tresses fell in perfect waves down her back.

  “You did all this in forty-five minutes? I can’t remember the last time I spent forty-five minutes on myself. It’s all I can do to get Katie fed and dressed and to preschool, and myself to the shop in clean clothes every morning. You do have a gift, Savannah. This gift begs to be shared because it will make the world a better place. Or at least a more beautiful place.”

  “At the rate you were going, you’d still be in the kitchen if I hadn’t intervened.

  “Probably so. It’s my happy place. This…” Rachel made an all-encompassing gesture with her hand. “This is all so foreign to me.”

  “Well, you can own it for tonight,” Savannah said. “Now, get into your dress so we can get back out there before everyone arrives.”

  She didn’t have a choice. Savannah had backed Rachel into a corner. After spending so much time helping her get ready, there was no way Rachel could back out now. What if after all this, the dress didn’t fit? It was a size four.

  I was born bigger than a size four. This is going to be so embarrassing.

  “Where are your shoes?” Savannah asked.

  Rachel met her with a blank stare.

  “Shoes. For the dress,” Savannah added. “What shoes are you going to wear with the dress?”

  Shoes!

  She didn’t have shoes that were appropriate to wear with the dress. That settled it. She couldn’t wear her Doc Martens boots with a dress like that.

  Rachel glanced down at her bare feet.

  “I think we forgot something. Avery didn’t lend me any shoes and I don’t have a thing to go with a dress like this.” She sighed, feigning disappointment. “It’s okay. I don’t need to go to the ball.”

  And just like that all the bravery she’d mustered a moment ago was gone. She would still be doing her part to help if she stayed in the kitchen.

  “It’s a good thing I came prepared,” said Savannah. She walked over to the window and lifted a shopping bag. She pulled out two shoeboxes and removed the lids. “You even have a choice.”

  Rachel eyed the sexy sandals—one pair silver and blingy, the other black and understated. “You do think of everything, don’t you?”

  Rachel reached for the black pair. Savannah pulled back the box and thrust the blingy silver pair toward her. “These go better.”

  “I like the other pair. You said I had a choice.”

  “I did. And then I made an executive decision to make that choice for you.” Savannah put the lid back on the box with the black pair and returned it to the shopping bag. It didn’t really matter which pair she wore. And the sooner she put on the dress and shoes, the sooner she could put in her appearance at the ball and go home. Or get back into the kitchen, depending on how things shook down.

  But first, the moment of truth. She had to put on the gown.

  It was a tight squeeze getting into the dress. She felt like a stuffed sausage, but to her amazement, it zipped.

  “It’s so tight,” she said as she sucked in her stomach. “I don’t know if I can breathe.”

  “It’s supposed to be. Otherwise, it would fall off. We don’t need any wardrobe malfunctions at a fundraiser for a children’s charity. You’d be the talk of the town. And not in a good way.”

  True.

  “Shoes.” Savannah picked up the box that Rachel had set on the bed. “I’ll help you with these so you don’t have to sit down.” Savannah slid the sandals onto Rachel’s feet and Rachel wished she’d taken Avery up on the mani-pedi appointment offer.

  Rachel adjusted the gown where it had been digging in and biting her under her left arm. She stepped back to look at herself in the oblong antique full-length mirror. The sight took her breath away. Not only did the dress fit, it hugged her in all the right places. She’d never seen her waist look that tiny. Had she really managed to stuff herself into a size four? Maybe Avery was mistaken about the size. Maybe she’d misread the tag. Maybe it was a nine rather than a four. Then again, a nine would probably swim on tiny Avery.

  A warm glow washed over Rachel and she ran her hands down her silhouette. Well, it was just for one night. And the dress was stunning. She could step out of her comfort zone tonight. Especially since the ball benefited such a good cause.

  Savannah grabbed her purse and wrap and headed toward the kitchen door. Rachel followed suit, grabbing her clothes and her boots. “You can leave those here if you want,” said Savannah.

  “No. It will be easier if I take them with me.”

  “You’re not planning on sneaking off to change clothes, are you?”

  Rachel shrugged. It was a tempting thought.

  “Why are you so reluctant to attend this ball?” Savannah demanded later as they stopped on the landing before descending the stairs.

  Rachel had no idea how to answer that question. There was no easy answer. It was a cocktail of complex issues that mixed together to form a complicated reason that was best answered by simply saying, “I just don’t like things like this. I don’t like being in the middle of things. I’m more comfortable behind the scenes.”

  Savannah shook her head as if she were at a loss for words. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Neither would Avery. Her two best friends lived for nights like this. But one of the reasons Savannah was such a good friend was because she knew when to push and when to back off.

  Savannah was pushing her out of her comfort zone, but she wasn’t pushing her to explain herself.

  Savannah shivered. “I’ll bet the temperature has dropped ten degrees over the past hour. It’s freezing here in the hallway.”

  As they walked past a window that connected the ballroom to the hallway and the staircase that led to the bride’s room, Rachel noticed a light drizzle had begun to fall. “Oh! Looks like it’s going to start raining just in time for the ball. Perfect timing,” Rachel said, suddenly realizing she no longer smelled the scent of lavender lingering in the air. Maybe she’d imagined it. But it had been so real, she doubted she’d dreamed it up. But it was gone now. It had probably just been something on the wind.

  They stepped out of the chilly hallway and into the warmth of the ballroom, where Rachel was comforted by the scent of good food. Her food. It was as if it was welcoming her back. She glanced around the cavernous ballroom, with fireplaces at either end of the room, with mantels decorated with fir tree branches, pinecones, Magnolia blossoms, and silver, red, and green glass ornaments. The classic decorations looked festive and expensive. As if she would expect it to be any other way with social maven Ginevra Hawkins in charge of decorating.

  Someone had strung multicolored twinkle lights across the ceiling. On the center wall, a lavish Christmas tree commanded attention. It was decorated in a theme that complemented the mantel-scapes. That’s where tonight’s partygoers would leave the gifts they’d brought for the area’s underprivileged children.

  To the left and right of the tree, the food tables overflowed with the delicacies Rachel had dreamed up for the party. It was as if she was seeing it with fresh eyes. Her staf
f of temps, led by Polly, had done exactly as she had instructed. Rachel was both humbled and proud. She really should’ve given those kids more credit.

  Maybe she could go to the party tonight…at least for the introductions.

  Savannah straightened the crystal at Rachel’s waist. “You look gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

  “Thanks for helping me get ready,” Rachel said.

  “It was fun. Everything is in place now. The food looks spectacular. Your staff seems to have it all under control. They’re really on the ball, if you’ll pardon the pun. It’s time for you to forget about working and get into party mode. I plan on doing exactly that myself—”

  Her phone pinged, indicating the arrival of a text. “I’ll start having fun as soon as I take care of this. I’ll see you later.”

  Savannah ran off in a flounce of red chiffon. She was in charge of operations for the ball, which meant she and her subcommittee were the ones who made sure the order of events would go off without a hitch tonight. If Savannah could make time to enjoy the evening’s festivities and not let the work part or the fact that her ex-fiancé was bringing his new fiancé to the ball dampen her spirits, maybe Rachel needed to follow her example and give it a try.

  It was one night. One night.

  She could do this, but first she needed to stash her belongings in the kitchen.

  Rachel almost bumped into Polly at the kitchen door. She was carrying a stack of red and green linen napkins.

  Polly gasped. “Rachel, oh, my gosh! You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Rachel said. “Everything looks fabulous out here. You’ve done a great job, Polly.”

  The girl beamed. “I was just going to put some extra napkins over by the pasta station. But wait, where are you going?”

  Rachel held up the garment bag that held her chef’s coat and flying pig pants. “I’m going to put my things in the kitchen.”

  Polly sidestepped and blocked the door with her body. “You can’t go in there. Someone will spill something on that pretty dress if you do.”

  Had Savannah briefed her or what?

  “I need to put this somewhere,” Rachel said. “I can’t walk around with it all night, and it doesn’t seem appropriate to stash it under the tree.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Polly set the stack of napkins on a nearby buffet and took the black garment bag from Rachel. “I need to go back in the kitchen anyway. The sweet potatoes need spoons, and it probably wouldn’t hurt for me to grab a few spares.”

  “Probably not a bad idea,” Rachel agreed.

  When Rachel didn’t immediately turn around and go, Polly said, “Oookay, that is your cue to go. Go on. I’ll take care of everything tonight. You can trust me.”

  “Do you want to come work for me?” Rachel blurted.

  Polly’s mouth fell open.

  “Full-time,” Rachel added. “Obviously, I could use the extra help.”

  “Yes.” A broad smile claimed Polly’s face. “I mean, it depends on what you have in mind.”

  “Go deliver the spoons and napkins,” Rachel said. “And check and see if others are missing. We will talk Monday. Sound good?”

  Polly nodded enthusiastically. “Cool. I mean, that’s great.”

  This just felt right. It was right. If she was ever going to expand, she had to relinquish some of the control. But she needed someone she could count on. A right-hand person.

  Yes, this was definitely right.

  But as Polly disappeared into the kitchen, and Rachel stepped into the ballroom, which was starting to fill with people, her momentary ease faded. She wanted to fade into the background, the definition of a wallflower.

  Why was this so hard? Even if she hired someone to help her out, the fact remained: she was still more comfortable in the kitchen with her recipes and peace and quiet.

  Good grief, she was boring herself even thinking about it. But she’d never been a party girl. Not even back in the Eli days when her mom had thought she was going to ruin her life by falling in love with him.

  For the next hour, she did manage to stay out of the kitchen. She was in the ballroom when Logan Calloway arrived. Their honorary co-chair had made his grand entrance. The crowd gave him a welcome worthy of a superstar.

  Logan was from Whiskey River—from the Barrels, to be exact. He was a few years older than Rachel. They’d never had classes together because Logan was a few years older, but he was friends with her ex-boyfriend, Elijah. So, they’d sort of traveled in the same circles. Loosely. In fact, Logan might not even remember her. A wistful pang of nostalgia caught in Rachel’s throat as she wondered if Logan and Eli still kept in touch.

  It had been more than a decade since Rachel and Eli had spoken. He had been so eager to get out of Whiskey River after all that happened that final summer. He hadn’t even stopped long enough to say goodbye, much less keep in touch.

  As the music started Rachel scanned the buffet tables. They were low on mini quiche. She turned toward the kitchen to ask them to replenish. She noticed Savannah out on the dance floor shaking it up to an Elvis song with some good-looking hunk of burning love—

  Wait! Was she dancing with Harlan Sullivan?

  Rachel did a double take and then moved closer to the dance floor for a better look.

  I’ll be damned.

  It was Harlan all right. Savannah had graduated the same year as Harlan, Eli, and Logan. Even though she and Savannah were good friends now, Savannah had no idea that Rachel knew about the fling she’d had with Harlan. Savannah never talked about it and Rachel had decided it wasn’t her place to bring it up. And she decided not to bring up what she knew about their past or even let on that she recognized Harlan when she spoke to Savannah. Rachel didn’t want her friend to be embarrassed.

  Rachel chatted to Savannah and Avery, before Harlan asked Savannah to dance again.

  From what Rachel knew about Harlan and Savannah, it had been a classic rich girl, poor boy forbidden love. The only reason she knew this much was because Harlan had been friends with Eli.

  When that was happening, because of the three-year age difference, Savannah and Rachel hadn’t known each other at all. They hadn’t been in the same grade in school and they ran in completely different circles of friends. Rachel had grown up in the not so desirable part of Whiskey River called the Barrels. Savannah had been raised on the right side of town, in a nice, upper-class neighborhood. Savannah’s relationship with Harlan had happened right around the time that Rachel’s mother had managed to pull them out of the rough Barrels neighborhood and move them into a better situation. It hadn’t been Savannah’s neighborhood, but it had been a far cry from where they’d lived before.

  Through major hard work and determination, her mother had managed to make their lives better. Of course, that meant she wasn’t home much because she was always working.

  Some people had accused her of being too ambitious. Others had started rumors that she’d traded sex for special favors. But Rachel knew her mother well enough to know not a word of the salacious talk was true. At least not the sex part.

  Donna Morgan wouldn’t have lowered herself. She was as smart, scrappy, and ambitious as she was stunningly beautiful. No doubt, some jealous woman—or three—had started the rumors.

  Donna hadn’t missed a beat.

  She’d held her head high and kept her eyes on the prize. She had scrimped, saved, and worked long hard hours to land promotions, pay raises, and bonuses. Now, her mother was the broker owner of her own real estate office. Now, she could buy and sell some of the women who weren’t very nice to her.

  What’s more, the joke was on the people who’d accused her of sleeping her way into better circumstances. After Rachel’s father Freddy left, Donna had been too busy trying to make a better life for herself and her daughter to get tangled up with another man who would only tie her down and hold her back—especially if that man was someone else’s husband.

  Besides, Freddy Morgan had cheated, l
ied, and schemed. The only things that native of the Barrels hadn’t done in the entire decade of their marriage was be faithful and put in an honest day’s work. Donna had fallen for the handsome face and the smooth line. After the disastrous marriage ended, she was hell-bent that her daughter wasn’t going to suffer the same fate.

  That’s why Donna had been hell-bent on breaking up Rachel and Eli.

  Seeing Harlan and Logan here tonight made her nostalgic and a little sad. She scanned the crowded ballroom half expecting to see Eli walking toward them. The three badass musketeers back together tonight. But it was a ridiculous thought. She glanced back at Savannah and Harlan and tried to gauge Savannah’s mood.

  Was she surprised to see him? Happy? Irritated?

  Probably not irritated since she was dancing with him.

  But it was hard to tell since she had her poker face on.

  Of course she would. That was so Savannah. She certainly wouldn’t cause a scene. She probably was happy to be dancing with someone since her ex-fiancé Brandon was here with his new fiancée. Even though Savannah had broken up with him, saying she didn’t love him the way she should love him to be his wife, it had to be difficult to see him move on so quickly.

  As she resumed her mini-quiche-replenishing mission, Rachel looked for Avery. She had hardly seen her since Logan’s grand entrance that officially kicked off the ball. It would be fun to dish a little with her.

  Rachel spied Logan, who was surrounded by a group of admirers, but Avery wasn’t part of the throng. No surprise there after what Avery had shared about the flirting incident.

  Avery was a year younger than Rachel. She’d moved to Whiskey River during Rachel’s turbulent Eli era. But Rachel had been so consumed with Eli, she hadn’t had time for much else during that time. She and Avery didn’t get to know each other until after Rachel had returned to Whiskey River, widowed and pregnant. Both Avery and Savannah had been kind to Rachel at a time when she’d needed a friend the most.