Chapter Fourteen
Caleb loved Thanksgiving. As the days of November passed, the main ranch house started to look like a harvest display. A horn of plenty decorated the huge dining room table. An autumn wreath hung on the front door. A scarecrow surrounded by dry corn husks stood guard on the porch. When Caleb thought about the huge meal they’d have on the big day, his mouth watered. Gram made the best pies ever, and he could almost taste the flaky crusts. Hot apple pie with ice cream melting over the top was his absolute favorite.
At school he’d made a friend named Hank Pierce who had horses. Caleb asked his dad for permission to use the horse trailer and transported his gelding, Latigo, to ride with Hank in his family’s indoor arena. They practiced riding patterns, and Hank went on and on about how well-trained Latigo was. Because he had watched plenty of trainers work with equines, Caleb offered to show Hank how to teach his horse, Sylvester, some stuff. Before Caleb drove home, they exchanged cell phone numbers, and Caleb finally had group texts coming in again. The other guys sent dumb stuff, video clips that were good for a laugh. Caleb reciprocated, and the next day he had guys waving at him in the hallways between classes.
Just like that, he had some buddies. He was no longer the weird guy from California.
• • •
In mid-November, Maddie had another chemo treatment. Once again, she woke up sick the next morning. She did her best to hide it, layering on extra makeup and smiling when she wanted to escape to her room and hang her head over the toilet. She managed to stay under the radar until Sam came in that night for dinner. He was a man who didn’t miss much. He took one look at her and pounced.
“If there’s something wrong with you and you don’t tell me,” he said with a glower, “I’ll never forgive you. I can’t survive losing another person I love.”
Maddie sat at the table, sipping her chemo mainstay, ginger tea. “Are you saying that you love me, Sam?”
He jerked his charred hat off his head and raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in tufts that resembled freshly whipped meringue. “What if I do? Are you going to sue me for breach of agreement?”
Maddie not only couldn’t think what to say but also didn’t feel well enough to examine her own emotions. Sam. They’d started out as enemies, and then they’d become the most unlikely of friends. Now she had no idea how to define their relationship. Love seemed too strong a word, and yet she’d come to care for him in ways that ran so deep it frightened her.
“May I take a rain check on this conversation?”
“No, ma’am, you may not. I just told you that I love you, and I expect some kind of answer back. Do you care for me, or not?”
It was so like Sam to bypass romance and go right to the nuts and bolts. “I care for you,” she admitted. “But quite frankly, Sam, it goes against my better judgment.”
“Well, Maddie, it scares the bejesus out of me, too. Especially when I suspect that there’s something bad going on with you. You’d tell me, right?”
Maddie had become an expert at conversational evasion, but she yearned to tell Sam the truth. Only how could she do that when she hadn’t been honest with Cam? “I went to the doctor again. He says I’m in perfect health.” That was true. Her heart was strong. Her lungs were clear. There was no sign that her cancer had returned. She was sick only because she had received an infusion. “That said, Sam, I’m sixty-seven years old. I’ve had friends, both male and female, who were younger than I was, and they died of one thing or another. Cancer, heart attacks, diabetes—you name it. I can’t give you an ironclad guarantee that I won’t die, too.”
“I don’t expect a guarantee, only assurance that there’s nothing wrong with you now.”
“So your feelings for me are conditional?”
His eyes turned the color of a hot rifle barrel. “Don’t twist my words. I’m an all-or-nothing man, always have been and always will be. Tell me, flat out, are you sick?”
She hesitated to answer. An awful ache settled in her chest and then inched up her throat. Sam had shared so many personal things about himself with her. She longed to do the same in return. But with the holiday season upon them, how could she do that to her kids? With a mere slip of the tongue, Sam could unveil the truth. Cam would be frightened half out of his wits. Caleb would panic. This should be a happy time for both of them. She didn’t want them to be focused on her and worried that she might die. “Obviously I’m not feeling well, Sam. I have bad days, and I have good days.”
He spun on his boot heel and left the dining area. Maddie sighed and pushed away the cup. Feeling wobbly on her feet, she went to her room, locked the door, and made it to the commode before the tea vacated her roiling stomach. The effort left her so weak that she kicked off her clogs and climbed into bed fully clothed.
• • •
By Thanksgiving, Cam was walking with less of a struggle, but he still needed a cane for support. Even so, he could stand in one place well enough, so he was able to do one of the things he loved most, cooking. Gabriella came to help, because Maddie had once again invited the Alvarez family to share the holiday meal with them. At her home Gabriella took charge of snacks, and she arrived with corn chips made from scratch, a scrumptious guacamole with authentic Mexican flare, fresh salsa with a touch of heat, cookie rings called galletas Elena, and pecan drops. Cam focused on preparing dinner. Sam wanted a traditional meal, so Cam had gotten up early to get the turkey dressed and in the oven. Then he made all the sides, thankful that his host had a gourmet kitchen with two food warmers.
At three in the afternoon, they gathered around Sam’s table as a family—or at least what felt like a family—to enjoy a fabulous meal. This time Sam led the blessing, confessing beforehand that he hadn’t uttered the words in years. Caleb and Rickie had eaten so many cookies that Cam feared they’d have no room left for dinner, but both kids made a big dent in the offerings.
Cam looked across the table at Kirstin. She wore a bronze dress with a V-neck. Her long hair lay in a heavy jet braid over her shoulder, and little gold balls gleamed on her dainty earlobes. She looked so beautiful that she almost took Cam’s breath away. He imagined future Thanksgivings when they would eat at their own table as man and wife. Sam and Maddie would be present, of course, humoring their grandchildren while Cam and Kirstin criticized their manners.
Kirstin smiled dreamily at Cam, and he had a feeling she was envisioning the same scene he was. It would happen, he promised himself. He could no longer imagine his future without her in it.
• • •
Kirstin had enjoyed everything about the holiday, from working in the kitchen with Cam to the sense of family that had been absent for far too long in the house. Even her father had taken part. She was so accustomed to his silence at the dinner table, she’d nearly fallen off her chair when Sam had led the meal blessing. She hadn’t seen him make the sign of the cross or bow his head in prayer since before her mother died.
Caleb had come to her house with Cam after the Alvarez family went home. Kirstin deeply appreciated the way that Caleb had befriended the much younger Rickie. A lot of teenage boys would have felt put upon if expected to play with a little kid. But Caleb had gone out with Rickie to toss a baseball, and together they’d groomed Latigo. Then they’d come in to help in the kitchen, which had mostly involved hovering over the breakfast bar after Gabriella laid out all the snacks. They’d eaten so much that Kirstin feared they’d be stuffed to the brim before mealtime, but she had underestimated the appetites of growing boys.
Kirstin didn’t want the festivities to end, so the moment she entered her house, a smaller version of her father’s, she went to the kitchen to reheat the cider she’d made. Cam didn’t seem like his usual relaxed self, which troubled her. He sat with his son at the table and kept rubbing his palms on his khaki pants as if he was nervous about something.
“Caleb,” she said over her sh
oulder, “I want to thank you for being so nice to Rickie. I think he had a great time today.”
“He’s a good kid,” Caleb replied. Then he tacked on a long “Um-mm-m. Kirstin, can you lower the heat on the cider for a while? My dad and I need to tell you something.”
Kirstin’s stomach knotted. She turned down the flame under the pot and turned to face Cam, who’d completely stolen her heart, and the young man she hoped to call her son someday. She’d been praying that might happen soon, but now she wasn’t so certain. Had Cam decided that their relationship wasn’t working out for him or possibly his child? She searched Cam’s expression as she went to sit with them at the table. Only last night he’d held her in his arms and told her he loved her very much. She couldn’t grasp why he might pull the rug out from under her now.
After she was seated, Caleb said, “My dad is kind of weird about family.”
“Caleb,” Cam said with a warning tone.
“Anyway, he thinks I should be a part of this. I think it’s totally dumb. I like you, and I think you like me, but Dad has to make sure I feel like I’m part of all this.” Caleb took a deep breath and grimaced on the exhale. “Sorry. I’ve never proposed before.” He gave Kirstin a twisted grin. “Would you consider being my stepmom? Actually, since my own mother never wanted me, I’d rather that you just be my mom. But I’ll understand if you don’t like the idea.”
Normally Kirstin had no difficulty with knowing what to say. Words were always on the tip of her tongue, a trait she suspected she had gotten from her dad, and she wasn’t sure it was a good one. After sitting in stunned silence for what seemed to her an awkward length of time, she pushed out, “I’d be honored, Caleb. And I’d prefer being a full-fledged mom. Thank you for giving me the opportunity.”
Caleb pushed back his chair and stood. He curled a hand over his father’s shoulder. “Okay, Dad, do your thing. I didn’t sign on for the mushy stuff, so I’m out of here.”
The boy sauntered from the room. A moment later Kirstin heard the front door close. She fixed her gaze on Cam. He quirked a burnished eyebrow at her. “On a scale of one to ten, I know I don’t get high marks for being romantic, but I want my son to feel that he’ll always be a part of our life together and that his vote will always count.”
Kirstin realized she was looking at him through a rush of tears. Voice tight, she said, “Cameron McLendon, any woman who didn’t think that was awesome would have to be out of her mind.”
He circled the table, pulled her up from the chair, and drew her into the warm embrace of his muscular arms, which had even more hard bulges now from using a wheelchair for so long. “Good, because now it’s time for the mushy stuff.”
Kirstin started to laugh, but the tenderness in his expression stifled her mirth. “I’m ready.”
He bent to press his forehead against hers. “I love you. In fact, I love you so much that I can’t believe it. From the first second I saw you, I was a goner. I don’t just want you in my life, Kirstin. I need you in my life.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
He kissed her then, a long, slow, deep kiss that made even her toes tingle. Then, before she realized what he intended to do, he drew away and sank down onto his right knee.
“No, don’t!” she cried. “What if you can’t stand back up?” Then she saw tears glistening in his eyes. It was so perfectly beautiful that her legs went weak, and she sank to her own knees in front of him.
“Kirstin Conacher, will you marry me?” he asked, his voice thick and gravelly. “Will you be my wife, the mother of my son, and stand beside me for the rest of my life?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes!”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small blue velvet box. When he lifted the lid, she gasped with delight. The most beautiful set of rings she’d ever seen twinkled up at her. Cam tugged only one from the slot, returned the box to its former hiding place, and then slid the diamond onto her finger. The large center stone was set in a cluster of smaller chips, the whole design resembling a flower.
“Oh, Cam, you shouldn’t have! This must have cost a fortune. You’ve only made one sale!”
He grinned. “I’ve got another client lined up. Besides, I figured that, for a once-in-a-lifetime purchase, I should go for fabulous. You’re very special to me, and nothing less than spectacular should be on your hand.”
“How did you know my size?”
“I guessed. I’ve felt your fingers so many times, it wasn’t that difficult.”
Without difficulty he stood and pulled her to her feet. Then he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. In the light of the moon coming through the windows, he made love to her in a way that felt like a promise for the future, his every touch light and cautious, as if she were made of spun glass.
Afterward they lay with their limbs intertwined and talked about their wedding. Kirstin shared her girlhood dreams of that day. She had imagined every detail many times. When she finished telling her future groom what she wanted, he stiffened and said, “You want to get married when?”
• • •
After having two pieces of Maddie’s delicious pie, Sam cleaned up his dessert mess and retired to the living room with a piping hot mug of coffee spiked with cream and whiskey. Maddie hadn’t been sick again, so he had real reason to be thankful today.
He’d chosen to sit on the sofa in hopes that Maddie would sit beside him. When she wandered in from her bedroom wearing a blue robe and slippers, she smiled as she went into the kitchen to get her own drink. Carefully balancing a cup of coffee, she joined him on the adjacent cushion.
“You’re looking thoughtful,” she observed.
Sam nodded. “That meal blessing was the first prayer I’ve said in more than six years. I’m thinking I need to return to church.”
Maddie breathed in the aroma of her drink. “I’ve been slacking off myself. Living in the trailer, I had nothing nice to wear, and I was embarrassed to attend mass.”
Sam was glad she shared his Roman Catholic beliefs. They wouldn’t muck up their relationship with differing ideologies. “Would you consider going to church with me? That way, if the roof caves in, you can pull me clear of the debris.”
“I’d love to as long as you don’t mind if I bring extras. I’ve let my family fall away from our usual worship routine since the move.” Her blue eyes twinkled up at him. “And although you haven’t noticed, I now have some nice things to wear. I went to the storage units and did some gathering.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.” He took a careful sip of coffee. “You look great. Judging by the way your clothes fit, though, I think you’ve lost more than a heap of weight.”
A flush of pink flagged her cheeks. “A good thing. I was getting grandmother plump. At camp I exercised off the calories. I walked the dogs two or three times a day. I was afraid to just let them run loose for fear my cantankerous neighbor might shoot them.”
“Never that. I like dogs even more than horses, and for me, that’s saying something.”
Sam also thought highly of her, and he’d as much as told her so. Yet neither of them had broached the subject again. Odd, that. Young people who fell in love couldn’t wait to proclaim their feelings and plan their futures. He and Maddie, who had no guarantees of a future, as she’d so clearly pointed out when they quarreled, were moving forward slower than two tortoises. It made little sense when they both understood that their time together could be limited. With a sigh, Sam decided that there was really no need to be in a hurry. Maddie had made it clear that there would be no intimacy in their relationship, so maybe they didn’t need rings and promises. They could be best of friends, married or not.
• • •
Maddie had carefully planned her next chemo treatment around Thanksgiving and had scheduled an appointment for the following Monday. Prior to receiving an infusion, s
he spoke at length with her doctor over the phone about how ill she’d recently been after receiving the drug. He agreed to lessen the dose, as she was very near the end of the course of treatments. He also prescribed something to settle her stomach, assuring her that she wouldn’t feel so sick again.
Maddie had reservations. She didn’t want to be on her knees at the commode for another forty-eight hours, and the doctor hadn’t lied. When she awakened the morning after her infusion feeling queasy, she immediately took the stomach medication. Within a half hour, she felt good enough to have a cup of ginger tea and two pieces of dry toast.
As she enjoyed her breakfast, she breathed a sigh of relief when her stomach didn’t rebel. She didn’t know how other people survived receiving full-strength chemo treatments with harsher drugs going into their bloodstreams. She decided to be upbeat. She had only one more treatment to go, in mid-December. Even if it laid her out flat, she’d be feeling better before Christmas.
• • •
On Sunday everyone slicked up and went to church. Caleb grumbled, and Maddie scolded him, saying that they’d become a bunch of heathens. Caleb retorted that he’d liked being a heathen. He still prayed every day, so why did he have to do it in a building?
Sam drove his truck with Maddie and Caleb as his passengers. He enjoyed listening to Caleb complain. It took him back in time to when he’d been a teenager and said similar things to his parents. His mom and old man had been honest, hardworking people with strong core values that they had drilled into Sam from early childhood. He’d clung to those tenets all his life, taking only a six-year vacation after Annie died.
It uplifted his heart to once again practice the religious rituals that had been a part of who he was for so long. It was especially wonderful to have Maddie on one side of him and Kirstin on the other. With Caleb and Cam tossed in, they took up nearly a whole pew. Though he hadn’t been to confession in way too long, Sam went up to receive the Holy Eucharist. He figured that God would give him a pass this time, and he’d do his soul cleansing later.
The Christmas Room Page 29
