Coming Home for Christmas

by Fern Michaels

  “Mom, we’ve talked about this before. I’m not getting any younger. If a child and marriage aren’t in my future, then please allow me to spoil and love those I can.”

  Juanita looked at her daughter, tears filling her matching green eyes. “I don’t know how I raised such a wonderful and wise woman, but I did. Come here,” her mother said. Grace stepped into Juanita’s loving embrace.

  “I just followed your lead, Mom.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I don’t think I was ever brave enough to do some of the things you do, dear. Have I ever told you how proud I am of you? All the women and children you’ve helped throughout the years. Your father would be so proud of you.”

  “Stop it, or I’ll get all teary-eyed and ruin my mascara,” Grace said with a grin. “You know how clumsy I am when it comes to putting on makeup.”

  “Oh, go on. Let me get these packages wrapped before Bryce discovers what I’m doing. You know what a sneak he can be.”

  “I’ll keep him occupied downstairs while you’re wrapping. Hide them under the bed when you’re finished.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Downstairs, Grace found Bryce where else but snooping into the fridge. “Is that all you do?”

  “What?” He shot her his all-American smile. Bryce was as handsome as their father had been, with his coal black hair and dark eyes. He’d just completed the requirements for his Ph.D. in history, same subject as their father, who’d been a professor at the University of Colorado. Starting in January, he would tackle his first real teaching job at the same college. Seeing Bryce all grown-up would have made her father proud. He’d died of a massive heart attack when Bryce was sixteen.

  “Every time I look at you, you’re eating,” Grace teased.

  “Hey, I’m a growing boy. I haven’t had real food in ages. I wish I could cook.”

  “Then I’ll make sure to get you a cookbook for Christmas.”

  “Thanks, Sis. I can always count on you to be practical,” Bryce said between bites of banana nut bread.

  “You better save some of that for the girls. And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Bryce poured a large glass of milk, downed it, then answered, “Just that you’ve always been the more practical one. That’s not a bad thing to be, Gracie.”

  Suddenly, Grace wanted to cry. Good old practical Grace. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Think that’s why no one ever . . . well, you know, fell head over heels in love with me?” Grace could ask Bryce anything, and she could count on him to tell her the truth.

  “Probably. Or they never thought they were good enough. My money’s on the latter.” Bryce winked at her.

  “You’re a good brother, you know that?” Grace wrapped him in a hug. Though she was older by six years, he was twice her size, a rock of solid muscle. Years on the ski slopes had guaranteed that.

  Which made her think of Max. “Remember that guy you used to go all gaga over? The Olympic skier?” Grace wasn’t sure if he would remember, but she wanted to see if it was possible if Bryce knew anything about Max, other than what had been in the news during his career.

  “Max Jorgenson? Darn straight I remember him. As a matter of fact, some of the guys and I are going to Maximum Glide next week. Jorgenson owns the resort. Why? You thinking of taking up skiing?”

  “I might. I was just curious. I don’t know if Mom mentioned it or not, but I . . . uh, spent the night at his house.” Grace grinned when she saw how big Bryce’s eyes got. They looked like two giant black holes.

  “What do you mean, you ‘spent the night at his house’?”

  Grace swatted him with a kitchen towel. “Not spent the night like the way you’re thinking. When I was coming home from Eagle Valley Friday night, I was detoured by the local cops. The snow was so bad I couldn’t see, my cell phone wasn’t charged, long story short, I wound up knocking on his door at two in the morning. Amanda and Ashley were with me.”

  “Maybe I was wrong when I used the word ‘practical.’ ‘Sneaky’ might be better.”

  “Stop it! I knew you were a big fan when you were in junior high, just thought you might want to know.”

  “So that’s it? Did you two do . . . anything?” Bryce asked, his eyes downcast, a grin the size of Texas spreading across his face.

  “Why you little shit!” Grace laughed so hard she lost her breath. Of course, that was when her mother chose to make her grand entrance.

  “Grace, I haven’t seen you laugh that hard since you wrote ‘I love you’ on all of your brother’s Valentine cards.”

  “Oh my gosh, I did do that, didn’t I?” She folded over laughing as she remembered when Bryce was in the fourth grade. He came home from school swearing he wouldn’t ever return because all the girls thought he liked them. It’d been a rotten thing to do, but Grace and her mother both had told Bryce a dozen times to write out his Valentine cards for his classmates. When Grace offered to do them for him, she decided to play a joke by writing ‘I love you’ on all the cards for the girls in his class. He’d never let her live it down.

  “Yes, and to this day Ramona Clark still has the hots for me.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Grace asked.

  “She weighs about four hundred pounds, that’s all. Nice girl, but not my type.”

  “What is your type, Bryce? Mother and I would love to know. Wouldn’t we, Mom?” Grace asked teasingly.

  “Well, I suppose this is one of those times when I need to leave the room. So I can eavesdrop.”

  They were all laughing when Stephanie brought the girls to the kitchen. “They’re hungry again, Miss Grace. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. The food bill alone will take me years. They just might eat you out of house and home.”

  “Nonsense! They’re growing girls. I was just telling Bryce what a pig . . . how nice it is to see someone eat all these baked goods.” She winked at Stephanie.

  “How about peanut butter with strawberry jam on a slice of banana nut bread?” Grace suggested.

  “Yummy, Miss Grace,” Amanda said.

  “Yeah,” Ashley added with less enthusiasm.

  Grace made sandwiches for the girls while Stephanie fixed each a glass of chocolate milk. Grace would never allow anyone who came to Hope House to go hungry. Many of the women and children who passed through Hope House came to her not only helpless and beaten down. Often they were hungry as well. In many of the so-called homes, food hadn’t been a priority. Grace was sure the girls hadn’t had enough to eat because when they had first arrived, they were skin and bones. Though they were still on the thin side, Grace was glad to see some pink in their cheeks, and their eyes were much brighter. It still amazed her how a loving, caring touch could change one’s life.

  Which brought her back to her conversation with Bryce. Practical? Is that what had turned Max off after that kiss? The kiss that took her breath away. The kiss that was unlike any she’d ever experienced. The kiss that almost knocked her whole world askew. Was she a practical kisser doomed to be denied all the passion and romance she’d secretly read about in all the romance novels she hid in her room? She laughed. Love and romance of that nature was pure fiction.

  “When will it be time to decorate the tree, Miss Grace?” Amanda asked when she finished her sandwich.

  “As soon as your sister is finished, we’ll get started.” Grace smiled at the girls. When they had returned yesterday afternoon from their adventure, she’d taken them to Jingle Bells and More, one of her favorite Christmas shops in Gypsum, where she’d purchased several Dora the Explorer ornaments for Amanda and High School Musical ornaments that all her friends back home would love for Ashley. She’d enjoyed seeing the looks on their faces each time she said yes to their, “Can we buy this one?” The trip had cost her a bit more than she’d budgeted for, but the delight she’d seen in their eyes was worth every penny.

  “I’m finished,” Ashley called out loudly.

  All the adults laughed.

  “Then let’
s get started,” Grace encouraged them.

  Three hours later, the twelve-foot spruce sparkled with red, green, and white lights, the ornaments she’d bought for the girls, plus dozens and dozens of her own personal ornaments that she’d collected over the years. She still had the hot pink star she’d made for her mother in sixth grade.

  “I think there’s something missing under the tree. What do you think, Amanda? Ashley?”

  The girls looked to their mother for an answer, but Stephanie just shrugged. Bryce and her mother shook their heads.

  “Are you sure you don’t know?” Grace inquired.

  “Nope, Miss Grace we don’t. We never had a tree this big before. We just had one Mommy had from when she was a little girl, but it wasn’t real. It didn’t smell good either,” Ashley continued. “It was glass.”

  Grace’s eyes welled with tears when she realized this was the first real Christmas tree the girls had ever had.

  “Well, since you can’t guess, I’m going to tell you.” Grace smiled, wrapping one arm around each of their shoulders.

  “I believe we are missing some . . . presents!” Grace emphasized the last word as loud as she could without scaring them.

  “Presents? Real presents with sparkly wrapping paper and shiny bows?”

  “Yep,” Grace said.

  With a questioning look, Ashley said, “But we already have our presents, Miss Grace. You bought us all these pretty ornaments.”

  “Oh, sweetie, those aren’t your Christmas presents. Those are presents for the . . . tree. Yes, trees get presents, too,” Grace improvised. Bryce gave her a high five. She was practical, wasn’t she?

  “They do? Mommy never got presents for our tree,” Amanda said.

  “Well, only real trees get presents because when they’re cut down they leave all their . . . tree friends and family behind.”

  “You’re pushing it, Sis,” Bryce interjected.

  “Yes, I suppose so. But it doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m going to need the help of two little . . . elves. Ashley, Amanda, do you want to be my elves for a while?”

  “Do we have to wear those shoes that curl up in the toes like the elves at the mall wear?”

  Again they laughed. “All you have to do is follow me,” Grace instructed, then headed toward the steps.

  As the two little girls trailed behind her, she heard Amanda whisper to her older sister, “See. I told you there really was a Santa Claus.”

  Chapter Ten

  The road leading off the mountain was completely cleared of the afternoon snowfall. The forecasters had been wrong. They’d barely gotten a foot of snow. Max was glad because he didn’t want to wait any longer to do what he’d decided to do as he’d skied down Powder Rise yesterday afternoon.

  With both dogs securely buckled in the backseat of the fire-engine red Jeep, Max carefully drove down the mountain to his destination: Denver. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to the city, but now was as good a time as any.

  The traffic on I-70 was heavy since it was Sunday morning. Hundreds of residents of Denver and the surrounding area drove to the resorts on the weekend. With Christmas just four days away, the traffic was horrendous.

  Three hours later he made it to the city. First on his list was the Hummer dealership, where he traded in the Jeep he’d bought for Kayla for a bright yellow Hummer. Eddie would love this.

  Next, he drove downtown to the police station. He had already dropped the dogs off at a doggie spa for grooming, figuring by the time they were finished, he would be, too.

  He was taking a chance, hoping to take advantage of his acquaintance with Kayla’s former partner, Paul McCormick, who, he remembered, was a decent guy.

  Luck was with him. According to the girl manning the front desk, Paul’s shift had just ended. She paged him and told Max to have a seat.

  “Max Jorgenson, good to see you,” Paul said when he saw him. “I couldn’t imagine who it was when Kathy paged me. How are you?”

  “Actually, I’m doing okay. Listen, I need a favor. I hate to ask you, but it’s important, and I don’t know who else I can trust.”

  “Sure. Let’s go to the break room. I can’t guarantee the coffee, but it’s private.”

  “Great,” Max said.

  Once they were seated, Paul poured them each a cup of coffee. Max sipped his, trying hard not to gag.

  Paul got straight to the point. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Have you ever heard of a woman’s shelter called Hope House?”

  Paul raised his eyebrows. “Everyone in law enforcement knows about it. It’s one of the best-kept secrets in Gypsum. Why? Do you know someone who needs protection?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. You see . . .” This wasn’t as easy as Max thought it would be. It felt like a betrayal of Kayla. “The woman who runs the place, Grace Landry. What can you tell me about her?”

  “Now wait a minute, Max, Grace Landry is as good as it gets. Just ask around. Whatever beef you have with her, I’ll warn you, there’s a thousand guys that’ll come to her defense.”

  “Look, Paul, I owe the woman a favor. She broke down on Blow Out Hill the other night. She had two little girls with her. I just need to find a way to contact her.”

  “In my day, when a lady wanted any contact from a man, she usually gave him her phone number.”

  “I have her number. Here.” Max removed the crumpled slip of paper that Grace had written her number on from his pocket. “I want to surprise her. I don’t want to call her. Can you help me or not?” Max didn’t like begging, but if he had to, in this instance he would.

  “Remember the old Sutton Mansion in Gypsum? It was in the paper a few years ago, something about it being on the historical register.” Paul looked him squarely in the eye. “No one knows about this, Max. If word got out that it was a shelter, the women Grace works so hard to protect wouldn’t stand a chance. There are a lot of angry husbands and boyfriends out there who would like nothing more than to see her shut down.”

  “You have my word I won’t tell a soul. Thanks, Paul. I really appreciate your going out on a limb for me.”

  “Anytime.” Paul stood, and Max clasped his outstretched hand.

  “Whenever you want to go skiing, take a ride up to Maximum Glide. Ask for Eddie and tell him to give you and your family anything you want.”

  “Thanks, Max, I might just do that. Skiing is getting a bit pricey these days.”

  Max laughed. “Don’t I know it. Be careful out there.”

  Max left the police station, picked up Ice-D and Cliff, who now smelled like strawberries and cream. There was one more stop Max needed to make on his way home.

  He was going to buy a Christmas tree. He was sure the decorations were stored in the shed, along with everything else he’d packed away when he moved. Better yet, he’d buy all new decorations. He’d kept the ones Kayla had purchased packed away, but if he was going to make a fresh start, he might as well go all the way.

  Three hours later, with two dogs that smelled like dessert, a fifteen-foot blue spruce strapped to the top of the Hummer, and six hundred dollars’ worth of decorations, Max drove his new vehicle up the winding road heading for home.

  Home. How strange it sounded to refer to his log cabin as home. He’d been living there for two years and never once thought of the place as anything other than a place to sleep, eat, shower, and drink. Funny, he hadn’t even thought of taking a drink since Grace landed on his doorstep.

  “That’s a good thing, right, guys?” Max asked the two dogs.

  “Woof, woof.”

  Max let the dogs out and unloaded the Hummer. Once inside, he put the stand together, wrestled with the tree until he got it in the stand, then filled the stand with water and the package of stuff they’d given him to help the tree stay fresh longer. Both dogs barked at the front door.

  “I’m having so much fun I forgot all about you guys.” Max stood aside as the two leapt through the door. Both cocked th
eir heads to the side when they saw the giant tree in the center of the den. To prove they were still in control, both Huskies trotted over to the tree, where they lifted their hind legs and proceeded to piss all over it.

  Max stared at the pair, shocked by their actions, then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard his sides hurt, and his eyes filled with tears.

  “I take it you guys don’t like the tree. Too bad ’cause it’s staying. If you want to pee on it, be my guest, but you’d better not mess with the decorations. Or else.”

  “Woof! Woof!”

  Max strung the multicolored lights on the tree, then one by one he carefully placed the ornaments on the branches. Ice-D and Cliff were mesmerized when he turned all the room lights off and plugged in the tree lights. The giant log cabin instantly became a home. To honor the woman who’d been his wife, he’d bought a silver star and placed it on the front of the tree where he could see it. To honor the woman who’d given him his life back, he carefully placed a crystal snow angel next to the star.

  Max stepped back to admire his handiwork. He gave a long whistle as he stared at his tree. This was a time for new beginnings, a time to start fresh. Kayla would want this for him, but more important, now he wanted it for himself.

  It was about time he gave old Bryce a run for his money.

  Chapter Eleven

  Christmas Eve, 2008

  Ten Minutes before Midnight

  Grace had just turned off her bedroom light when she heard the doorbell ring. She dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt before quietly making her way downstairs. Thankful she had purchased two turkeys and a ham at the butcher shop that afternoon, she wondered how many more would join her for Christmas dinner.

  Grace carefully punched in the numbers on the alarm panel before peering through a small hole at the top of the door. When she didn’t see anyone, she opened her front door to see who was out there. Sometimes the women were afraid when they arrived. Grace understood this as she stepped out onto the porch in the frigid night air.