by Hebby Roman
“There you go. Now I’ll just help myself to half of yours!” She inclined her head and smiled at him.
“It helps when two people are torn between two choices and they’re both torn between the same two.”
“Yes, that worked out nicely. Now we get to have them both.” She took a bite. “That’s really good. Try it.”
He could sit and watch her all night. He’d forgotten about food, lost as he was in his study of her. The way the light dusting of freckles danced around her nose when she talked. The way her facial features were in constant motion, matching the tone of her voice. The way the light caught in the waves of her hair.
“Go on,” she urged.
He took a bite to satisfy her. She raised her eyebrows, waiting so he sampled both dishes. “I think I like yours better.”
“Funny, I think I like yours better.”
“We saved each other from making a terrible mistake. Speaking of mistakes, thanks again for helping me out today so I didn’t make any. I feel good about everybody’s gifts, which will make Christmas less stressful this year.”
“Christmas shouldn’t be stressful. It’s not really about the gifts anyway.” She put her fork down and looked off into space. “It’s more about family and the traditions you’ve managed to build over the years. What does your family do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Christmas has become kind of a disorganized mess lately. We have dinner together and open gifts. When Dad was alive he was the one who made a big deal out of the holiday. He loved everything about Christmas. You remind me of him in that respect.”
“When did your father die?”
“On December twenty-six, just after midnight three years ago.”
Her hand flew up to her chest. “I’m so sorry. Was there some kind of accident?”
“No, he was in hospice with cancer. The nurse said they see that. Folks wanting to live to see one more Christmas before departing. He was in a coma, but I reckon he somehow knew what day it was.”
“That has to make the day hard with it being the anniversary of his death.”
His throat hitched with unexpected emotion. “Yep. Things aren’t the same. What about you? How do you spend Christmas?”
Her eyes shifted back and forth and she took another bite of her food like she was buying time. “Well, like you, deaths in my family have changed how I celebrate the holiday. I don’t have any family anymore, so I’m on my own. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t celebrate!” she added a little too brightly. “I keep some traditions alive. Making the cookies we always made. Listening to our favorite carols. It doesn’t make me sad, if that’s what you’re thinking. It brings them back to me.”
He sensed a sadness underneath she didn’t want to admit to, so he let it go. “Will you be by yourself?”
“Oh, no! I’ll go to church on Christmas Eve, and I’ve been invited by friends to spend Christmas day with them. I have a few offers, actually.” She had a tight smile on her face, which put him on alert.
“So, tell me something. Is there really such a thing as hardening off the Christmas tree before you bring it inside?”
Her cheeks flushed and she choked on her food, but then to his relief, she laughed. “I must confess I made that up. When I remembered the mess I’d left my house in, I couldn’t have you see that.”
“I see. You’re a big slob.”
“I’m not! Really! I’m normally the neatest person, but I was in such a rush that morning to get out of the house.”
“I wouldn’t have judged. You should see the state of my house sometimes. There are days when I call it basecamp rather than home, if you know what I mean. It’s amazing how big a mess one man can create not doing anything but eating and sleeping there.”
“You must be pretty busy with your practice.”
“I am, and then there’s the ranch on top of it.”
“Surely you don’t work the ranch as well!”
“A bit. We have a foreman, but I still like to keep my hand in it as much as I can. Some times of the year are busier than others—unfortunately those are the same times that keep me busier than usual in my veterinary practice.”
“That’s a lot to balance.”
“Well, I would like to see the ranch stay in the family long enough for Faith’s kids—or any kids I might have for that matter, to inherit it.” He didn’t mean to spill out that remark about kids. She glanced down at her plate. He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, Faith chose to marry an accountant. It would’ve made it easier for all of us if she’d married someone with an interest in ranching.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“I don’t mean to poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong, so you can tell me to butt out, but is there some reason you don’t want your mom to have her car? I sensed something going on there.”
He sat back and studied her face, and finding nothing but compassion in her eyes, he decided to let her in on the secret. “Yes, there is. Mom’s driving has gotten erratic and we’re worried about her. Faith even thinks she’s gotten lost on occasion while driving around. I don’t know about that, but I have witnessed her driving. It’s a miracle she hasn’t gotten into a major accident.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s had a few minor scrapes.”
“What are you going to do about it? You can’t pretend her car is needing repair forever?”
“Faith thought...well, we thought that we’d talk to her after the holidays. Try and convince her to give up the car. There’s other things...we want her to be examined by a doctor.”
She leaned forward. “What other things?”
“Faith believes there are signs of dementia. I don’t think that’s the case. A certain amount of forgetfulness is normal, and I suspect her hearing is going, which might account for some of the strange things she says. You know, she mishears things or tries to keep up with the conversation and doesn’t want to let on she didn’t hear you. I suspect if we get her a hearing aid, she’ll be back on track.”
She knitted her brows. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m very fond of your mother, and—”
“You spend time with her. You can tell the woman isn’t demented!’
“Well...I haven’t known her that long. I notice some gaps in memory, but as you say, that’s not so unusual. If every time I forget something―”
“Exactly! I don’t know why Faith has to jump to the conclusion Ma’s failing.” He felt unaccountably relieved she saw things his way.
“Still….” Uncertainty flickered across her face.
His scalp tightened. “Still, what?”
“Does Faith spend more time with your mother?”
“She does, but that doesn’t mean she knows more than I do about my own mother. I spend plenty of time with her, by the way.”
“I know you do! I didn’t mean to imply anything. It’s just that...listen, there’s a support group at my church for families of Alzheimer's victims.”
Leland put both his hands flat on the table and took a deep breath. “Good to know, but I don’t think that’s something we need to explore.” He picked up his fork, but then slammed it down again in frustration. “I don’t know why people have to jump to the worst conclusion and call it being concerned!” The loudness of his own voice surprised him. Someone at the next table shot him a look.
As surely as if he’d pushed her away from the table, he saw the emotional distance between them widen. She squared her shoulders and her eyes flashed alarm. They regarded each other in silence. He could feel his Adam’s apple bobbing while he got his emotions in check. It was one thing to hear Faith talking about dementia. He’d almost gotten to the point he tuned her out, but to hear an outsider voicing the same concern rattled him.
She looked down and began pushing the food around her plate with her fork. “Clearly, I don’t understand the situation.”
“I’m sorry if that came out harshly. It’s j
ust I have Faith nattering at me about Ma and the ranch every darn second of the day.”
“No problem.” She stuck on that tight smile again.
He returned to his food. Now the only sound, the gentle clatter of their forks on china. His thoughts returned to the look on her face, sparkling in delight with uncontrollable laughter back in the shop, and how right it felt to hold her in an embrace. He’d so wanted to kiss her right then and there, but there’s only one first kiss, and he didn’t want it to be in the middle of a store with people watching. Now, it looked like this was a romance over before it started.
Chapter Fifteen
December 9
Another overbearing mother of the bride successfully dealt with. Melody closed the file on her computer screen and rasped her palms together as if washing her hands of the matter. When it was clear the bride wasn’t going to get the wedding of her dreams as long as her mother stayed so involved, Melody fell back on one of her favorite diverting strategies: give the mother a job. In this case, she asked the mother of the bride if she’d take on the responsibility of planning a brunch the next day for the out of town guests. She also made sure the photographer knew the bride and groom were in charge—not the bride’s mother. It was all handled with subtlety. It was impressive the way the bride and groom worked together to minimize a potential problem. They were going to be all right.
Despite being pleased how it all worked out, sadness kept filtering through all her thoughts today. This wedding got her thinking about her own mother and how if she ever got married, her mother wouldn’t be involved in the planning of her wedding. That got her thinking about Leland and his mother.
His discomposure at the end of their date had thrown her. Up to that point they were so in sync. They never recovered from his agitation. After dinner he walked her to her car, and they said goodnight without so much as a goodnight kiss. It was a kiss she’d been anticipating all evening. Her attraction to him had been strong up to that point.
Her immediate reaction to his outburst was to distance herself. But, now able to stand back a little, she realized Leland reacted out of fear.
Out of the corner of her eye, her bright pink phone seemed to be calling out to her. Her vision strayed to it. No, she wasn’t going to call him. She’d called him first last time. If there was one thing she’d learned dealing with so many couples, it was that a man who didn’t show some gumption at the start of the relationship couldn’t be counted on to step up later. It was just as well things had fizzled out on the first date. One more to write off. She gave a shuddering sigh. Except she’d really liked him.
Just as she returned to staring at her computer, her phone leapt into action. She looked at the screen. Leland!
She pushed back her hair and cleared her throat. “Hello?”
“Hi, Melody, it’s me. Leland.”
“So I see. How are you?”
“Fine. Look, I wanted to let you know I enjoyed spending time with you yesterday.” The touch of nervousness in his voice instantly warmed her heart.
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I did too.”
“Only the evening ended on a weird note. I’m hoping I can see you again soon. Maybe I can explain.”
“You don’t really have to explain anything. I think I understand.” She bit down on her thumb nail. “I would like to see you again. Do you have something in mind?”
“I’m staring at an unadorned Christmas tree in my living room and wondering where my light stringing buddy is? If you’re free tomorrow night I’m thinking I could make a pot of my famous rancher chili to feed you in exchange for helping me decorate this tree you talked me into buying. That bare tree is making me feel inadequate.”
“We cannot have that! Do you have any ornaments?”
“Of course, I have ornaments! Are you kidding me?”
“You haven’t bought any yet, have you?”
“Well, not yet, no.”
“Tell me what time and how to find you, and I’ll be there. How about I bring my famous cornbread?”
The shot of adrenaline she got when his name first flashed across her screen continued to send tremors of delight through her body as they went on talking. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t ready to write this man off. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Sixteen
December 10
The biting wind sweeping across the plain lashed at her face the instant she stepped out of the car. She put her mittens up to her cheeks as she took in Leland’s house. Two story log cabin. New construction. Wrap-around porch.
The front door swung open and there he stood waiting for her, big smile on his face and a dish towel hanging over his shoulder. She hurried across the yard to him and clattered up the front stoop, grateful to be out of the wind. He swept her through the front door before giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Boy, you’re cold. Let’s get you warmed up.” He led her to the fireplace. “Let me take your coat. Can I get you anything to drink?”
She slipped out of her coat but hung on to her bag. “If you have wine, I’ll have a glass. Red if you have it, but white is fine too.”
“I do have red. I’ll be right back.”
The butterflies in her stomach increased as she watched him hang up her coat by the front door next to his. She lingered on that sight, as he headed over to the kitchen. She was really here. In Leland’s house. And a beautiful house it was, in a masculine way with heavy furniture and lots of bare wood. She could just make out the end of a king-sized bed upstairs in the loft. It looked cozy up there.
“Did you have any trouble finding my house?” He called from the kitchen.
“Not at all.” She moved closer to the fireplace.
Stretched out the length of the mantelpiece stood a line of over a dozen hand-carved wooden animals, painted in fading, whimsical colors.
She picked up a little turquoise donkey. “These are charming! Where did you find these?”
He came up behind her and handed her a glass. “We made them. Sometimes in the summer my Dad would sit on the porch with me and Faith and showed us how to whittle. A couple of the older ones, like this rabbit, were made by my grandfather for my Dad when he was little.”
“Which ones did you make?”
He moved around a peach-colored horse so it faced her. “I made this one.” He nudged another figure at the end. “And, this one.”
“What a sweet doggie!”
He made a face. “Does that look like a dog to you? It’s a fox.”
She made a face at him over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I see that now.” She spotted the Christmas tree in the far corner. “The tree looks good there. The buffalo plaid tree skirt was definitely the right choice for this style house. Let’s see your ornaments.”
“Right here.” He pivoted around to expose an end table behind him.
She blinked a few times. “Six? You got a box of six silver globes? That’s what you need help with?”
“Of course. With only six ornaments, the placement is crucial. I can’t be trusted. I might put them all on one side.”
She laughed. “It’s a good thing I got you a present.”
She reached in her bag and pulled out a small box. His eyes lit up at the sight of it.
He opened the box and unwrapped the tissue paper inside. “An ornament! It’s a cowboy!” He held it up to the light.
“I saw it and thought of your cookie, Mustang What’s-his-name.”
“Mustang Muldoon. If you’re going to talk about him, call him by his right name,” he said with amusement in his voice. “Well, that was really thoughtful of you. We’ll put him in the middle of the tree.” He gave the ornament one more appreciative look before setting it on the table next to the others. He turned toward her again, rubbing his hands together. “So, I thought we’d eat first and then decorate the tree. How does that sound to you?”
“Considering we now have seven ornaments to hang, I’d
say we better get some sustenance first.”
“If you’ll follow me to the kitchen, I’ll get the chili going.” He threw one arm out to point the way.
“You haven’t made it yet?” She followed him into the kitchen area.
“It only takes a few minutes. My recipe involves a series of cans. Easy, but you need to open them in the right order.” He opened the fridge. “First, is a can of beer.”
“You put beer in your chili?”
“No, I put beer in me. It’s the first step.” The can opened with a snap and he took a swig. “Now, the cook is ready.”
He took one of three cans lined up on the counter, winked at her before he used a manual can opener and dumped the contents into a pot. Next he opened another can of the same chili and dumped that in. “This is an easy recipe to double if you’re hosting a dinner party.”
Laughing, she nudged up against him. His solid, warm body felt good and left her wanting more.
He picked up a smaller can of green chilies and looked up at her. “Maybe you’d like to help out here.” He handed her the can and opener. “Did you bring the corn bread?”
“I did. It’s in my bag. And, you’ll be interested to know no cans were opened in the making of my cornbread.”
He took the open can from her and dumped it in the pot. After turning on the burner and stirring the contents, he spun around to face her, hands on hips. “I feel I need to say something about the other night and get it out of the way. I’m sorry if it sounded like I was jumping down your throat when you mentioned the Alzheimer’s group. It wasn’t directed at you personally. You were just trying to be helpful, and I... well, I’m having a hard time thinking about it all, I guess.” He looked up at her then and their eyes met. “Sometimes I wish things would stay the same, you know?”
She reached out and placed her hand on his cheek to try and wipe the pain off his face. “I do know. I know exactly how you feel.”
