The Christmas Room

by Catherine Anderson

  Maddie’s visits to see Cam each hour set the pattern for the remainder of the afternoon, with her and Sam making small talk to pass the time in between. Around six, Caleb woke up as if he had a built-in dinner bell. Maddie gave him her credit card to go to the cafeteria for his evening meal. Kirstin continued to sleep. When Caleb returned with his hunger appeased, he slumped beside Kirstin and nodded off again.

  • • •

  Sam didn’t know what it was about Maddie MCLendon, but he found himself telling her things he never dreamed he’d admit to anyone.

  “Were you angry after Graham died?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she confessed. “Not with Graham, but with the world in general. I still find it hard to see couples my age who are still together. I wonder why I had to lose my husband and other women get to keep theirs.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Sam said. “I still think like that. It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” He sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. “Only I was referring to real anger, the kind that burns in your gut and pushes you into a rage at the tip of a hat.”

  She sent him a questioning look.

  “I was envious of my rancher friends who still had their wives, and I hated them because they did. I guess you could say that anger and sadness festered inside me and turned me into someone nobody likes. Hell, Maddie, I don’t even like myself.”

  “I’m sorry it’s been such a difficult road for you.”

  “If it hadn’t been for Kirstin, I might have popped myself.”

  “With a gun?”

  Sam huffed. “How else can you pop yourself?”

  “Oh, Sam. Having suicidal thoughts isn’t good. I know you hate counselors, but maybe it would help if you saw your doctor and got on an antidepressant.”

  He shook his head. “And be like a zombie? Everyone I’ve known who took that junk was flatlined.”

  “Flatlined is better than dead. Do you still think about killing yourself?”

  “No. I focused on Kirstin and found a reason to live. But I still have other feelings I can’t dump. Guilt is the big one for me.”

  “Guilt?”

  “For arguing against Annie getting a hysterectomy after Kirstin was born. We both wanted another child. But she started getting ovarian cysts. When Kirstin was around seven or eight, the doctor recommended a complete hysterectomy, and I asked Annie to try to get pregnant for another six months before she had the surgery. If I’d been more supportive of her having the operation, she would have had it done and couldn’t have gotten ovarian cancer.”

  “Did Annie have ovarian cancer at the time?”

  “Only cysts back then. But what if it was there, and the doctors didn’t find it?”

  She laid a hand on his arm. Her touch comforted him. He felt as if she had put salve on a raw wound deep inside of him. “Sam, I’m sure she had yearly exams. A good gyn would have noticed abnormalities when he palpated her ovaries. There’s also a blood test that can be run.”

  “But she had an exam not that long before she was diagnosed. She was having pains in her side. The gyn found nothing and thought she was having flare-ups of chronic appendicitis.”

  “I’ve never heard of chronic appendicitis,” she said.

  “Most people haven’t,” Sam told her. “For whatever reason, sometimes an inflamed appendix builds enough pressure to shift the blockage that causes the appendix to get infected, allowing the appendix to drain. Then the crisis is over. Chronic appendicitis can happen again and again in some people. But eventually they will have an acute attack, requiring immediate surgery.”

  She kept her hand on his sleeve. “How old was Kirstin when Annie passed away?”

  “Twenty.”

  “And you think Annie lived with ovarian cancer for more than twelve years, Sam? I don’t believe that’s how it goes.”

  “She was diagnosed when Kirstin was eighteen. In a little less than two years she was gone.”

  “You can ask a doctor, but it’s my guess that your wife had no cancer until Kirstin was in her late teens.” She withdrew her hand from his arm. “I’m not saying you’re crazy for blaming yourself. In fact, I think it’s normal. Graham loved bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes for breakfast. I knew high-fat meals weren’t good for him, or for me, but I cooked the food anyway. When he was diagnosed with colon cancer, I wondered if I caused it.”

  Sam gave her a sharp look. “Do you still think that way?”

  She scrunched her shoulders. “It goes through my mind. But I try to chase it away, Sam. As humans, we want to believe we’re in charge of our own destinies, but the truth is, most of us aren’t. In fact, I doubt that any of us are. Cancer strikes people in all walks of life, people who ate healthfully and exercised, people who never smoked or drank. We can do everything right and still be victims. I think life is too short to blame ourselves for the death of someone we dearly loved and never would have deliberately harmed.”

  Sam said nothing.

  “I felt robbed of my golden years with the only man I’ll ever love,” she went on. “But at some point, I realized that Graham left me a fabulous legacy, my son and my grandson, who love me and support me and watch out for me. I also have a wonderful daughter back east with two beautiful girls. She would leave work and temporarily abandon her family to be with me if I needed her.”

  “In other words, you count your blessings.”

  “I try. I still feel as if something precious was stolen from me, but if I mean to move on with my life, I need to get past that.” She smiled up at him. “The ugly truth is, Sam, our kids can’t fill the emptiness inside us. I don’t know how people move beyond the feeling of loneliness. I could have gone to grief counseling, but those resources often offer only group sessions, and I’m uncomfortable with spilling my guts to strangers.”

  “Me, too. But we seem to be doing a fine job of it with each other.”

  She grimaced. “I guess we don’t feel like strangers anymore.” She picked at a fingernail. “Graham’s hospice company had a counselor. She was a lovely young woman with little kids. I liked her immensely, but I couldn’t help wondering how she could possibly understand how it feels to lose a spouse.” She shrugged. “For some reason I feel better just talking about it with you, though. I know you’ve experienced a loss equal to mine and many of the same feelings.”

  Sam heard an echo of his own sentiments in every word Maddie said. He appreciated her honesty and wished that he’d tried to get to know her sooner. She had a low-key sense of humor that could catch him off guard.

  “How can I wean myself away from my daughter?” he asked.

  She glanced at her watch, reminding him that she eagerly awaited her next chance to check on Cam. “Why do you need to? Kirstin seems to love you dearly. I don’t think she sees your need of her as an imposition. It’s also natural for you to turn to her. You’ve lost your wife, your best friend, and your life partner. And remember that she lost her mother. She was very young when it happened. Together, you can form a new core that gives you both a sense of familial strength without limiting each other’s personal freedoms.”

  Sam felt that barb. He had ruthlessly limited Kirstin’s personal freedom, clinging to her like a child. But he didn’t believe Maddie had meant the comment to hurt. She was a woman who spoke her mind, but she’d done so thoughtfully, and she’d given him some things to mull over. In a strange way, he felt as if they had become friends. How in the hell had that happened?

  • • •

  Minutes later, as Maddie stood over Cam, who still slept, she thought about Sam Conacher. During their shared vigil, she’d gotten glimpses of who he really was: not the cold, heartless man she’d believed he was, but more an old warrior who’d survived the death of his wife the only way he knew how. Maddie had never had to cling to Cam after Graham died, but Cam had been older and more mature than Kirstin was at twenty. He’d been gene
rous with his time and support, always there for Maddie to lean on. She’d never needed to so much as ask. He’d just been there.

  “Mom?”

  At the sound of Cam’s weak, raspy voice, Maddie jumped with a start. Then she leaned over her son, taking care not to touch his chest or jostle his bed. She settled for smoothing his hair. “Oh, darling. What a fright you gave me.”

  His smile was more a grimace. “Kirstin,” he pushed out. “Is she hurt?”

  “No, sweetheart. Her leg got bruised up, but she’s otherwise fine. Sam arrived just in the nick of time to get the bull away from you.”

  “Will you t-tell her I love her?”

  “Maybe you should tell her yourself.” Maddie had been keeping an eye on the clock and knew six minutes of the allotted ten per hour still remained. “Let me go get her.”

  Dashing from the cubicle, Maddie encountered a nurse, told him that Cam was awake, and then said, “He’s asking to see his fiancée. She was involved in the accident, and he’s terribly worried about her. Can she come in to see him?”

  The man smiled. “A fiancée qualifies as immediate family in my book. Of course she can come in.”

  Maddie raced to the waiting room, shook Kirstin awake, and then sank down beside Sam. He studied her for a moment. “You’re out of breath again. A woman smart enough to write murder mysteries that keep me guessing should have the good sense to see a doctor. That’s not old age creeping up on you.”

  Maddie could not tell Sam that she was recovering from a chemo treatment. Right or wrong, she had decided to keep her colon cancer a secret from her son and grandson, and she couldn’t risk that Sam might let the cat out of the bag. She locked gazes with him. “I’m told that you burned every one of those books.”

  Sam emitted a laugh. The sound had a rusty edge, but it nevertheless surrounded her with warmth. “I bet I have my daughter to thank for you knowing about my book-burning party.”

  “No, you have yourself to thank. It was foolish to start a fire in a barrel with explosive fuel.”

  He rubbed his jaw, looking chagrined. “The gas was a mistake. I didn’t turn on a light, and my night vision has gone to hell. I thought I grabbed the can of diesel.”

  It was a long vigil. Kirstin grew more alert after the shots wore off and she went to ask for pillows and blankets. Caleb, still asleep, nestled down with a murmur when he was covered and had something to support his lolling head. Maddie went in once more to see her son, and afterward she, too, succumbed to exhaustion. In her sleep, she gravitated toward Sam. He didn’t mind lending her an arm to rest her head against. Kirstin draped a blanket over her and then moved Sam’s hat to another chair so she could sit beside him.

  “Well, Dad, it’s been quite a day.”

  “How was Cam when you saw him last?”

  She studied him with the same steel blue gaze he saw when he shaved each morning. “You sound like you might really care.”

  Sam dipped his head to kiss her forehead. “I was wrong, Kirstie. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

  Surprise crept into her expression. “You really mean it.”

  With a sigh, Sam said, “I do. With no thought for his own safety, he saved your life. I totally misjudged him. I said and did a lot of things I regret now. More than anything, though, I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I wanted you to remain my baby girl. I didn’t want to be alone.”

  Her eyes went moist. “How could you think I’d ever leave you?” She blinked. “If I did, you might cut me out of your will.”

  Startled by her sassiness, Sam chuckled. “Who else would I leave my millions to?”

  It was her turn to laugh. “Other people may believe you’re a multimillionaire, but I know you’re only rich on paper.”

  Sam gave her a long study. “You really want to spend the rest of your life looking at cows’ asses and mending fences?”

  “What else would I want to do? I’m a Conacher.”

  “You’re also your own person. Maybe you want a cottage, a picket fence, and a litter of kids.”

  “How would you feel if I did?”

  “Disappointed, but I’d get over it. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf. I need to let you follow your own dreams. The ranch is my dream, not yours.”

  Kirstin looped an arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry to ruin your leaf turning, but I love the ranch, Dad.” She drew back to smile up at him. “I rebelled. I probably went about it wrong. All I ever really wanted was to be my own person and break my eleven o’clock curfew.”

  “Was I that bad?”

  “Worse,” she quipped.

  “Well, if I act that way again, tell me.”

  Maddie stirred awake. “Is it time to see Cam again yet?”

  Kirstin glanced at her watch. “Go back to sleep, Maddie. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

  • • •

  The following morning, a different doctor, this one a neurosurgeon, came to the waiting area to speak with Maddie and Caleb. Imagery studied that morning revealed no sign of Cam having a spinal injury, but the doctor had seen evidence of nerve impairment and Cam still had little feeling in his right leg. The doctor hoped that most of the trouble was due to severe bruising and swelling, and Cam would be kept in the hospital for at least forty-eight hours for observation.

  “The pulmonologist wants to keep a close eye on his lung as well. A setback at this point could be devastating.”

  After the doctor departed, Kirstin was the first to speak. “Caleb needs to get back to school, and, Maddie, you should probably get back to your writing. The two of you can come to the hospital to visit in the evenings. I can stay with Cam here at the hospital.”

  Maddie protested. “You’re hurt. You should probably be elevating that leg.”

  “The ER doctor didn’t say a word to me about elevating it. He just told me to baby the leg for a few days. I’ll be useless to Dad at the ranch. At least by staying here, I’ll be doing something.”

  Maddie relented. “If you’re here, I won’t worry. I know you’ll call me if anything goes wrong.”

  “Absolutely,” Kirstin assured her.

  Maddie raised an eyebrow at Caleb. “Well, what’s your vote?”

  Caleb nodded. “If Kirstin is going to be with him, I should probably get back to classes tomorrow. Geometry is kicking my butt.”

  All the adults laughed. And so it was decided that the McLendons would go home and Sam would return to the ranch.

  • • •

  As pickups went, Sam’s was roomy. Maddie had barely noticed the interior as she rode into Missoula, but now, although she was bone weary and feeling nauseated, she wasn’t beside herself with worry about Cam. Buttery soft gray leather hugged the seats, and it still had that faint “new car” smell that Maddie liked. Caleb rode in the backseat and made a halfhearted attempt to study geometry while Sam and Maddie maintained a peaceful silence up front.

  When they reached camp, Maddie was delighted to see men working on what would be their new homes. “Caleb, look! They’ve poured our cement slab!”

  Caleb sat forward to peer out the windshield. “Holy smokes, that happened fast.”

  “Oh, to be in by Christmas!” Maddie dreamed aloud.

  “Do you think we’ll make it, Gram?”

  Though Maddie had little hope, she said, “Possibly.”

  Caleb touched her shoulder. “Well, if we don’t, Gram, don’t you worry. I’ve got a plan, and we’ll have the best Christmas ever.”

  When Sam pulled up behind Maddie’s SUV, the three dogs greeted them at the fence. They bounced and twisted in midair, as Australian shepherds were prone to do, and it was difficult to distinguish any separation between them. They appeared to be one writhing mass of black, curry, and white fur.

  “Miguel put
them in last night in case it got cold,” Sam said. “I’m glad to see that he came back over early to let them out. All the same, I’ll make sure the horses have been fed and have plenty of water before I leave.”

  Caleb grabbed his backpack and exited the truck. “I’ll come with you.”

  In no hurry to move, Maddie watched them take off together toward the horse pasture. She felt like a folding chair with rusty brackets. Her cozy trailer bed called to her. She’d have some ginger tea followed by a quick shower and then rest for a few hours before she attempted to work. Sleeping in a chair had left her knees achy and stiff.

  She’d barely climbed out of the truck when Sam and Caleb returned.

  “Is there anything else I can do that Cam usually takes care of?” Sam asked.

  Maddie felt uncomfortable. She and Sam had been enemies only yesterday, and now they’d forged a friendship of sorts, albeit a wary one. It seemed all wrong to let him do chores here when he probably had mountains of work to do at his ranch. “Thank you for offering, Sam, but I can’t think of a single thing.”

  Sam touched the charred brim of his hat in farewell and swung back into his truck. “I’ll keep in touch,” he said through the lowered driver’s window. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

  Maddie didn’t have his phone number, but she refrained from reminding him of that. She and Caleb watched him drive away. Then Caleb beamed a pleased grin at her.

  “Sam says I’m a good hand with horses!”

  Maddie suspected that Sam rarely dished out compliments, so she dredged up a smile. “That was nice of him to say. I don’t think he gives pats on the back very often.”

  Caleb, book bag in hand, took off for the cabin he shared with his father. Watching him go, Maddie was struck with a sudden and very worrisome thought. Cam might come home in a wheelchair. How on earth would he be able to get around out here? Exhaustion forced her to shelve that worry. Caleb would be fine while she grabbed a few hours of sleep, and oh, how badly she needed to stretch out.