by Leanne Banks
Joe turned into a space in front of the house and she pulled in beside him, wondering why he hadn’t gone directly to the barn. He’d told her he’d set up shop in a renovated equipment shed attached to the main barn.
A small woman with a sweater thrown over her shoulders came out onto the porch and waved. She was using a walker. Joe slid down from the truck and called out, “Hi, Mom—I brought company.”
“I simply must go home,” Ann Elise protested for the third time, or maybe the fourth. The dogs were bedded down for the night, not in a pen out by Joe’s office, but in a mudroom just off the warm, fragrant kitchen. Joe had carried his father’s rocking chair out there and Mr. Halloran was rocking, talking to Goldie and keeping watch on the pups while only a few steps away, Mrs. Halloran pressed another serving of gingerbread on Ann Elise. Homemade, not from a mix. With cranberries and a rich lemon sauce.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Ann Elise protested, even as she accepted her second generous slice. As hungry as she was, she’d declined a supper invitation, but dessert was different. After all, as Mrs. Halloran—“Call me Polly”—said, it was Christmas Eve. A time for sharing.
It was even later than she’d expected when she finally got away. She’d called Faith soon after they’d arrived to tell her what had happened. Some of it, anyway. “I can’t ask you to take in Goldie and her nine babies, with all you have to do,” she’d said by way of explanation.
“The children would love it,” Faith had protested.
“They’re newborns, Faith—give them time to develop a few defenses before we let the kids at them.”
“Oh. Well… I guess you’d know.”
“Trust me, it’s better this way.” And to Polly Halloran, who was holding the coffeepot over her cup with a questioning look, she shook her head. “Look, I’ll be along in about a half hour, Faith. No later, all right?”
The kitchen smelled of gingerbread and sage and coffee. Somewhere in the house, a radio was broadcasting a Christmas Eve program. She needed to be with her own family—she’d come here for just that purpose. And to say goodbye to Aunt Beth.
Yet somehow this old kitchen, a place where she’d never set foot in her life, felt more like home than any other place she could remember. The tree was a straggly cedar. It was slightly crooked, and the decorations were obviously old, more than a few of them handmade.
By a young Joe? He had an older sister who was married and living in Olean, New York, who couldn’t make it home because she’d broken her ankle trying to teach her little boy to ski. Polly had insisted on showing her pictures of both her children—a tall, grinning Joe, age eleven, and a tall, grave-looking girl a couple of years older, with her father’s height and her mother’s pale coloring.
Reluctantly, she stood and reached for her raincoat. The day had started out chilly and damp, but not really cold. Over a sweater, the silk raincoat had been enough. Now, without asking, Joe brought her a wool-lined denim jacket that was only a dozen or so sizes too large. “It’ll keep you from freezing on the way home,” he said.
“My car does have a heater, you know.”
“Take it,” he insisted, and she did, and wrapped it around her, not so much because she couldn’t bear a little cold, but because it smelled of Joe. He’d worn it. And so she would wear it, too, so she could feel close to him for just a little while longer.
He walked her out to the car and said, “I’ll follow, just to be sure you don’t run into any more flooded creeks.”
“I don’t need an escort.” And when he only looked at her—that steady, level look that said so much that was open to interpretation—she grudgingly relented. “Oh, all right. But just as far as the turnoff.”
He followed her all the way up the lane. In the darkness, the Baker house still looked impressive with it’s light-trimmed eaves and wraparound porch, and a wealth of decorations sparkling in the clear, cold air. A moment after the headlights played over the front, the door opened, and there was Faith, with Gabriel at her shoulder.
Joe came over to the car and opened her door. “You don’t have to get out,” Ann Elise said, despising herself for sounding so inhospitable. As if she didn’t really want him here, when she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything in her entire life.
“Sorry. Too late. Maybe I can sneak back to the truck and get away before anyone sees me.” He sounded hurt, and perhaps just a bit angry.
“Joe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” She caught his arm before he could walk away and held on. “Come say hello to the family. You know Faith—I think she was in one of your classes.”
Faith, who had always considered herself plain, was glowing. She looked at Ann Elise, and her eyes widened. “Good Lord, what happened to you? You look like…and your sweater!”
Her sweater was drooping a couple of inches below the oversize denim coat. In Polly’s warm kitchen she’d forgotten what she must look like. No wonder Joe had been staring at her all evening. “I told you, we rescued a dog in a flooded creek in the pouring rain, and then had to hole up in a barn while she delivered. The water was too high to come home right away.”
That was the short version, the only one she intended to tell. Quickly she made introductions and glanced past Gabriel to see that the tree was upright again, and complete, with angel on top. She explained to Joe, “Jason got a little rambunctious and nearly knocked the whole thing down.” And to Faith, “I guess they’re both asleep by now?”
“Just barely. At least they’re quiet.”
The sound of voices drifted in from the kitchen. Startled, Ann Elise whispered, “Company? I’d better slip upstairs before anyone sees me. G’night, Joe, and thanks.”
Faith grabbed her arm. “No you don’t. Oh, Annie, guess what!”
Chapter 8
Under a spray of mistletoe hanging in the kitchen doorway, an obviously pregnant Marilou was arguing with a man who looked vaguely familiar. Hesitating only a moment, Ann Elise opened her arms and rushed forward. “Excuse the dirt, I’ll clean up in a minute. Marilou? Wh-what happened?”
“You don’t know?” The youngest of the Baker sisters confronted her, eyes a-gleam, cheeks flushed. She laughed, but there was a brittle edge to the sound. “Remember all those lectures you used to give me when I started my—”
“And this is Tate Carson,” Faith said hurriedly, moving in to wave toward the man whose face and name were familiar to anyone who followed the rodeo circuit. “He’s going to be spending Christmas with us, and let me tell you, Jason thinks Santa’s already come and gone. First Gabe and now Tate. Joe, you need to stick around and meet my son. He’s really hungry for male role models.”
Tate Carson pointed a finger at Joe. “Halloran. Didn’t you used to play for A & M? Quarterback, right?”
Joe nodded. Faith hooked her arm through Gabriel’s and beamed at the tall veterinarian. “I was in two of your classes, Joe. I don’t mind admitting now that I used to have the biggest crush on you.”
Ann Elise stared. “You did?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t,” her sister teased, brown eyes sparkling with laughter.
Ann Elise decided that whatever else he was, Gabriel Raines was the best thing that had happened to her sister in years. There was no sign now of either the rebellious teenager who had run away from an overly strict uncle or the frightened woman of a few years later who had divorced an abusive, alcoholic husband. Since then Faith had struggled to raise her two children alone, stubbornly refusing most offers of help. They’d both tried, even when Marilou had been dealing with her own problems, but Faith had been determined to make it on her own. Short on luck, but long on pride. She’d said it laughingly the last time Ann Elise had tried to give her money to pay for a new water heater.
“Look, I live here, you don’t,” her sister had said. “I have a great job with nice people and a lot of friends. One of those friends happens to be a plumber, so quit worrying. You worry too much—you always did.”
Ann Elise hadn’
t even tried to refute the charge. Of course she’d always worried. As the eldest, it had always been her job to worry. She had a feeling that things were changing—that something precious was slipping away. Yet seeing her sister glowing with happiness, she couldn’t help but be happy for her.
With decidedly mixed feelings Ann Elise leaned against the wall and watched the interplay between her two sisters and the men they’d brought home with them. She couldn’t tell about Marilou and Tate Carson. There was definitely something there, but it felt—edgy. And Marilou was pregnant, for heaven’s sake! When had that happened, and who—?
Clearly one of her sisters no longer needed her, but she wasn’t at all sure about the other one. When it came to men, the Baker sisters didn’t have a great track record.
“I’d better be getting back home,” Joe said, and everyone chimed in to beg him to stay.
“I promised to take the folks to midnight services,” he said. “Anyone want to come with me?” The invitation was general, but he was looking at Ann Elise. “How about all you folks being my guest at the Lone Star Club for Christmas dinner?”
Christmas dinner? Ann Elise couldn’t think beyond the moment. “Oh, I don’t know. I really need to—well, to, uh…” She gestured helplessly at her muddy jeans, her baggy sweater and her once-beautiful snakeskin boots.
“I could take you outside and hose you off,” Marilou offered.
“Just point me to a bathtub and turn up that big new water heater,” she said with a sigh.
In the meantime she’d figure out a way to put this thing with Joe into perspective before it took on too great a significance. Christmas dinner with both families present probably wasn’t the best way. “Call me tomorrow and let me know how the babies are,” she said. “If you have time.”
“Babies!” Faith and Marilou chorused together.
So then they had to explain all over again about Goldie and her pups. Faith had heard part of the story over the phone, but the others were fascinated. Gabe said, “I might be able to place a few of them for you, Halloran.”
Marilou said, “Oh, I want one!” Then she looked down at her expanded girth and wrinkled her nose. Tate merely looked uncomfortable.
Hmm, mused Ann Elise. Something’s definitely going on here…but what?
Joe left after a murmured conversation with Gabriel, and Ann Elise made her excuses and went upstairs. She had washed up at Joe’s house, but there was only so much that could be done short of a complete bath and change of clothes. Standing in the room that used to be hers, she reminded herself that tomorrow was Christmas. She was surrounded by her family—what was left of it—and that was truly wonderful. It should be enough, she told herself as she gathered up gown, robe and slippers and headed for the bathroom.
But it wasn’t.
She stoppered the tub, turned on both faucets and dumped in a palmful of bath salts. Faith had Gabe now. There was definitely something between Tate and Marilou, but evidently they still had some issues to work out.
A rodeo star and a financial consultant?
Hardly a likely match.
As for Faith and her oilman, she was beginning to get the idea that Gabe Raines was more than just a bit player. She knew quality when she saw it, and those bench-made boots of his hadn’t come cheap. Nor had that custom-tailored shirt.
If anyone deserved a Prince Charming, it was Faith, she told herself as she tested the temperature and stepped into the bathtub. Evidently her love of cooking had finally turned into a good thing. Somewhere in last night’s conversation she’d got the impression that Gabe was going to back her in a restaurant venture. She’d been too sleepy to pay much attention.
Sliding down in the hot, sudsy water, she propped her feet against the tiled wall and closed her eyes. The house had been built long before one-piece plastic units had been invented. Parts of it still needed modernizing, but she liked it just as it was.
She tried to focus on her sisters and the children—anything to keep from thinking about Joe. But by the time she climbed out of the tub and confronted herself in the steamy mirror, she couldn’t put it off any longer. It was still there, what she’d felt for him all these years. She’d managed to put it behind her, to shove it under the surface, but all it took was one look at that familiar face—that warm, quirky grin—and she’d lost it all over again. Heart, mind and any shred of sense she’d ever possessed.
Two veterinarians, for Pete’s sake. They had that much in common—maybe even a few more things, but it wasn’t going to work. In a few more days she’d be going back to Dallas, to her impatient clients and their trophy dogs, too many of which were overbred, undertrained and stressed to the max. In the past year alone she’d dealt with a deaf dalmation, a hydrocephalic cocker spaniel, and more than a few edgy Dobermans and mean German shepherds, all from overbreeding. At least Goldie had sense enough to dilute the gene pool.
Joe’s life was here in Mission Creek with his parents and his practice and his perky little cheerleader, or whoever her successor was. Ann Elise couldn’t imagine him going for long without a woman in his life. Several women, probably.
On the other hand, that might mean he hadn’t found the right one yet. “Dream on, you pathetic wimp,” she whispered to the rosy image in the mirror.
Christmas Day was hectic, to say the least. The kids were hyper, but surprisingly well behaved. Magically, gifts had appeared under the tree from Santa—those were the ones with no gift wrappings. There were several fancy packages with no cards on them at all. Ann Elise knew for a fact that there had been gift cards earlier, because she’d seen them.
Over the heads of the children she caught Faith’s eye and lifted a questioning brow. What happened to the cards?
Faith winked at her. Who cares?
Becky came over to where she was seated, nursing a cup of coffee. “Aunt Ann Elise, Mama said something about some puppies. Did you find some?”
“Sure did, hon.” So she proceeded to tell both children all about the adventure of the previous evening, and how she and an old friend had rescued a golden retriever from a flooded creek and taken her to a deserted barn where nine puppies had been born.
Jason got in with his question first. “Can I have one? I want a boy dog, and I can name him Fireman.”
“Silly, you can’t name a dog Fireman. I want a girl dog. I’m going to name her… What color are they, Aunt Ann Elise?”
“Why don’t you call me Annalise, the way Jason does? Color? Let’s see, there are two sort of grayish-brown and at least three that look like their mama. She’s blond. Dr. Halloran and I called her Goldilocks.”
“Then I’m going to call my puppy Gretel,” Becky said smugly.
Faith sat up and started to say something. Grinning, Gabe pulled her back. “As in Hansel and,” he said softly. “Those old books of your aunt Beth’s, remember? Must date back to her childhood.”
“At least,” Faith said, and the moment passed. By the time the dogs were weaned and adoptable, Ann Elise would no longer be here. They’d have to work it out all on their own.
With Joe, she thought wistfully. In a way she wished she didn’t have to go back to Dallas so soon, but of course she did. Her home was there now. Her friends, her practice—everything. She’d left Mission Creek behind when she’d gone off to college, spending most of every summer thereafter working and taking night classes.
She had deliberately scheduled around this Christmas, leaving her new assistant to handle anything that came up unexpectedly. Jen was working out even better than she’d hoped, but she was nowhere near ready to take over the practice yet.
Yet?
Where had that thought come from?
The midday Christmas meal was in ruins, the partakers sprawled around in various chairs while the children enjoyed their new gifts. Conversation was desultory. Ann Elise had insisted on cleaning up the kitchen. “Just sit down, both of you,” she’d ordered when both women had started to clear the table. “Faith, you cooked the entire me
al, and Marilou, you—”
“Go ahead…you were going to say—?” Her baby sister was in a better mood today. Marginally.
“I know you—you just want to nibble.”
“I do not,” the youngest sister protested. “There’s your nibbler.” Marilou pointed at Ann Elise.
“Oh, just go sit down,” Ann Elise protested, laughing. “We all know I can’t cook, but at least I know how to load a dishwasher.”
Faith had said, “Thank goodness we’re eating out tonight.” It had been Faith who had accepted Joe’s invitation for all of them. “Two big meals in one day and I won’t be able to get into my clothes.”
The phone rang in the kitchen just as Ann Elise finished off a tiny strip of leftover turkey that was too small to have been good for anything anyway. Without thinking, she reached for the receiver while she wiped her fingers on a paper towel. “H’lo? Baker—I mean Donner residence.”
“Ann Elise?”
She sank onto a stool. “Joe…Merry Christmas.”
“To you, too. I was wondering—that is, it occurred to me that the kids might like to see the pups.”
She laughed and hoped it sounded convincing. “They’ve already named two of them. Fireman and Gretel.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t come up with Donner and Blitzen and all the rest of the gang. So what about it?”
“You mean come there?”
“I could come get you. You all, that is. As many as want to come.”
He sounded the way she felt—uncertain, but leaning toward hopefulness. “Well, sure,” she said breathlessly. “I mean, you don’t have to come get us. I know the way. Um…when would be a good time?”
It was decided that the children would ride with Ann Elise so that she could explain the rules concerning new puppies. Faith and Gabe would follow in his car, while Marilou took a nap and Tate watched a football game on ESPN.
