A Country Christmas

by Debbie Macomber

  “You didn’t need to do that,” Dovie said when she greeted him, lightly kissing his cheek.

  As he entered the house, Phil caught a whiff of something delicious—a blend of delightful aromas. He smelled bread fresh from the oven and a cake of some sort, plus the spicy scent of one of her Cajun specialties.

  Frank and Phil settled down in the living room and a few minutes later Dovie brought them an appetizer plate full of luscious little things. A man sure didn’t eat this well at the retirement center, he thought. Good thing, too, or he’d be joining the women at their weekly weight-loss group.

  Phil helped himself to a shrimp, dipping it in a spicy sauce. Frank opened a bottle of red wine and brought them each a glass.

  They chatted amiably for a while, but Phil knew there was something on Dovie’s mind. He had an inkling of what it was, too, and decided to break the ice and make it easier for his friends.

  “It’s times like this that I miss Mary the most,” he murmured, choosing a brie-and-mushroom concoction next.

  “You mean for social get-togethers and such?” Frank asked.

  “Well, yes, those, too,” Phil said. “The dinners with friends and all the things we’d planned to do...”

  Dovie and Frank waited.

  “I wish Mary was here to talk to Cal.”

  His friends exchanged a glance, and Phil realized he’d been right. They’d heard about Cal and Nicole Nelson.

  “You know?” Frank asked.

  Phil nodded. It wasn’t as though he could avoid hearing. Promise, for all its prosperity and growth, remained a small town. The news that Nicole Nelson had delivered dinner to Cal had spread faster than last winter’s flu bug. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to discuss it with Cal, either. Mary could have had a gentle word with their son, and Cal wouldn’t have taken offense. But Phil wasn’t especially adroit at that kind of conversation. He knew Cal wouldn’t appreciate the advice, nor did Phil think it was necessary. His son loved Jane, and that was all there was to it. Cal would never do anything to jeopardize his marriage.

  “Apparently Nicole brought him dinner—supposedly to thank Cal for some help he recently gave her,” Dovie said, her face pinched with disapproval.

  “If you ask me, that young woman’s trying to stir up trouble,” Frank added.

  “Maybe so,” Phil agreed, but he knew his oldest son almost as well as he knew himself. Cal hadn’t sought out this other woman; she was the one who’d come chasing after him. His son would handle the situation.

  “No one’s suggesting they’re romantically involved,” Frank said hastily.

  “They aren’t,” Phil insisted, although he wished again that Mary could speak to Cal, warn him about the perceptions of others. That sort of conversation had been her specialty.

  “Do you see Nicole Nelson as a troublemaker?” Phil directed the question to Dovie.

  “I don’t know... I don’t think she is, but I do wish she’d shown a bit more discretion. She’s still young—it’s understandable.”

  Phil heard the reluctance in her response and noticed the way she eyed Frank, as though she expected him to leap in and express his opinion.

  “Annie seems to like her,” Dovie went on, “but with this new pregnancy, she’s spending less and less time at the bookstore. Really, I hate to say anything....”

  “I tell you, the woman’s a homewrecker,” Frank announced stiffly.

  “Now, Frank.” Dovie placed her hand on her husband’s knee and shook her head.

  “Dovie, give me some credit. I was in law enforcement for over thirty years. I recognized that hungry look of hers the minute I saw her.”

  Phil frowned, now starting to feel worried. “You think Nicole Nelson has her sights set on Cal?”

  “I do,” Frank stated firmly.

  “What an unkind thing to say.” Still, he sensed that Dovie was beginning to doubt her own assessment of Nicole.

  “The minute I saw her, I said to Dovie, ‘That woman’s trouble,’” Frank told him.

  “He did,” Dovie confirmed, sighing.

  “Mark my words.”

  “Frank, please,” she said. “You’re talking as though Cal wasn’t a happily married man. We both know he isn’t the type to get involved with another woman. He’s a good husband and father.”

  “Yes,” Frank agreed.

  “How did you hear about her bringing dinner out to Cal?” Phil asked. It worried him that this troublemaker was apparently dropping Cal’s name into every conversation, stirring up speculation. Glen was the one who’d mentioned it to Phil—casually, but Phil wasn’t fooled. This was his youngest son’s way of letting him know he sensed trouble. Phil had weighed his options and decided his advice wasn’t necessary. But it seemed that plenty of others had heard about Nicole’s little trip to the ranch. Not from Glen and not from Ellie, which meant Nicole herself had been spreading the news. She had to be incredibly naive or just plain stupid or... Phil didn’t want to think about what else would be going on in the woman’s head. He didn’t know her well enough to even guess. Whatever the reason for her actions, if Jane heard about this, there could be problems.

  “Glen told Ellie,” Dovie said, “and she was the one who told me. Not in any gossipy way, mind you, but because she’s concerned. She asked what I knew about Nicole.”

  “Do you think anyone will tell Jane?”

  Dovie immediately rejected that idea. “Not unless it’s Nicole Nelson herself. To do so would be cruel and malicious. I can’t think of a single person in Promise who’d purposely hurt Jane. This town loves Dr. Texas.” Dr. Texas was what Jane had affectionately been called during her first few years at the clinic.

  “The person in danger of getting hurt here is Cal,” Frank said gruffly. “Man needs his head examined.”

  Phil had to grin at that. Frank could be right; perhaps it was time to step in, before things got out of hand. “Mary always was better at talking to the boys,” he muttered. “But I suppose I could have a word with him....”

  “You want me to do it?” Frank offered.

  “Frank!” Dovie snapped.

  “Someone has to warn him he’s playing with fire,” Frank blurted.

  Phil shook his head. “Listen, if anyone says anything, it’ll be me.”

  “You’ll do it, won’t you?” Frank pressed.

  Reluctantly Phil nodded. He would, but he wasn’t sure when. Sometimes a situation righted itself without anyone interfering. This might be one of those cases.

  He sincerely hoped so.

  Four

  Jane stood at the foot of her father’s hospital bed, reading his medical chart. Dr. Roth had allowed her to review his notes as a professional courtesy. She frowned as she studied them, then flipped through the test results, liking what they had to say even less.

  “Janey? Is it that bad?” her father asked. She’d assumed he was asleep; his question took her by surprise.

  Jane quickly set the chart aside. “Sorry if I woke you,” she murmured.

  He waved off her remark.

  “It’s bad news, isn’t it?” he asked again. “You can tell me, Jane.”

  His persistence told her how worried he was. “Hmm. It says here you’ve been making a pest of yourself,” she said, instead of answering his question.

  He wore a sheepish grin. “How’s a man supposed to get any rest around here with people constantly waking him up for one thing or another? If I’d known how much blood they were going to take or how often, I swear I’d make them pay me.” He paused. “Do you have any idea what they charge for all this—all these X-rays and CAT scans and tests?”

  “Don’t worry about that, Dad. You have health insurance.” However, she was well aware that his real concern wasn’t the expense but the other problems that had been discovered as a result of his broken hip.

 
“I want to know what’s going on,” he said, growing agitated.

  “Dad.” Jane placed one hand on his shoulder.

  He reached for her fingers and squeezed them hard. For a long moment he said nothing. “Cal wants you home, doesn’t he?”

  She hesitated, not knowing what to say. Cal had become restive and even a bit demanding; he hadn’t hidden his disappointment when she’d told him she couldn’t return to Promise yet. Their last few conversations had been tense and had left Jane feeling impatient with her husband—and guilty for reacting that way.

  “Your mother and I have come to rely on you far too much,” her father murmured.

  “It’s all right,” Jane said, uncomfortably aware that Cal had said essentially the same thing. “I’m not just your daughter, I’m a physician. It’s only natural that you’d want me here. What’s far more important is for you and Mom not to worry.”

  Her father sighed and closed his eyes. “This isn’t fair to you.”

  “Dad,” she said again, more emphatically. “It’s all right, really. Cal understands.” He might not like it, but he did understand.

  “How much time do I have?” he shocked her by asking next. He was looking straight at her. “No one else will tell me the truth. You’re the only one I can trust.”

  Her fingers curled around his and she met his look. “There are very effective treatments—”

  “How much time?” he repeated, more loudly.

  Jane shook her head.

  “You won’t tell me?” He sounded hurt, as if she’d somehow betrayed him.

  “How do you expect me to answer a question like that?” she demanded. “Do I have a crystal ball or a direct line to God? For all we know, you could outlive me.”

  His smile was fleeting. “Okay, give me a ballpark figure.”

  Jane was uncomfortable doing even that. “Dad, you aren’t listening to what I’m saying. You’re only at the beginning stages of treatment.”

  “Apparently my heart isn’t in great shape, either.”

  What he said was true, but the main concern right now was treating the cancer. He’d already had his first session of chemotherapy, and Jane hoped there’d be an immediate improvement. “Your heart is fine.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Dad!”

  He made an effort to smile. “It’s a hard thing to face one’s failing health—one’s mortality.”

  When she nodded, he said quietly, “I worry about your mother without me.”

  Jane was worried about her mother, too, but she wasn’t about to add to her father’s burden. “Mom will do just fine.”

  Her father sighed and looked away. “You’ve made me very proud, Jane. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

  A lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t speak.

  “If anything happens to me, I want you to be there for your mother.”

  “Dad, please, of course I’ll help Mom, but don’t talk like that. Yes, you’ve got some medical problems, but they’re all treatable. You trust me, don’t you?”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. “Love you, Janey.”

  “Love you, too, Dad.” On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

  “Tell your mother to take the kids to the beach again,” he insisted. “Better yet, make that Disneyland.”

  “She wants to spend the time with you.”

  “Tell her not to visit me today. I need the rest.” He opened his eyes and gave her an outrageous wink. “Now get out of here so I can sleep.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she said, reaching for her purse.

  She might be a grown woman with children of her own, but the sick fragile man in that bed would always be the father she loved.

  * * *

  “Mommy, beach?” Paul asked as he walked into the kitchen a couple of mornings later, dragging his beloved blanket behind him. He automatically opened the cupboard door under the counter and checked out the selection of high-sugar breakfast cereals. Her mother had spoiled the children and it was going to take work to undo that once they got home.

  Home. Jane felt so torn between her childhood home and her life in Promise, between her parents and her husband. She no longer belonged in California. Texas was in her blood now and she missed it—missed the ranch, her friends...and most of all, she missed Cal.

  “Can we go to the beach?” Paul asked again, hugging the box of sugar-frosted cereal to his chest as he carried it to the table.

  “Ah...” Her father’s doctor was running another set of tests that afternoon.

  “Go ahead,” her mother urged, entering the kitchen, already dressed for the day. “Nothing’s going to happen at the hospital until later.”

  “But, Mom...” Jane’s sole reason for being in California was to help her parents. If she was going to be here, she wanted to feel she was making some contribution to her father’s recovery. Since their conversation two days ago, he’d tried to rely on her less, insisting she spend more time with her children. But the fewer demands her father made on her, the more her mother seemed to cling. Any talk of returning to Texas was met with immediate resistance.

  “I’ll stay with your dad this morning while you go to the beach,” her mother said. “Then we can meet at the hospital, and I’ll take the children home for their naps.”

  Jane agreed and Paul gave a shout of glee. Mary Ann, who was sitting in the high chair, clapped her hands, although she couldn’t possibly have known what her brother was celebrating.

  “Mom, once we get the test results, I really need to think about going home. I’m needed back in Promise.”

  Stephanie Dickinson’s smile faded. “I know you are,” she said with a sigh. “It’s been so wonderful having you here....”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I can’t tell you how much my grandkids have helped me cope.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” Her mother made it difficult to press the issue. Whenever Jane brought up the subject of leaving, Stephanie found an even stronger reason for her to remain “a few extra days.” Jane had already spent far more time away than she’d intended.

  “We’ll find out about Dad’s test results this afternoon, and if things look okay, I’m booking a flight home.”

  Her mother lifted Mary Ann from the high chair and held her close. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said tearfully. “Your father and I will be fine.”

  “Mother. Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

  Stephanie blinked as if she’d never heard anything more preposterous. “Why would you have any reason to feel guilty?” she asked.

  Why, indeed. “I miss my life in Texas, Mom—anyway, Derek’s here,” she said, mentioning her younger brother, who to this point had left everything in Jane’s hands. Five years younger, Derek was involved in his own life. He worked in the movie industry as an assistant casting director and had a different girlfriend every time Jane saw him. Derek came for brief visits, but it was clear that the emotional aspects of dealing with their parents’ situation were beyond him.

  “Of course you need to get back,” her mother stated calmly as she reached for a bowl and set it on the table for Paul, along with a carton of milk.

  The child opened the cereal box and filled his bowl, smiling proudly at accomplishing this feat by himself. Afraid of what would happen if he attempted to pour his own milk, Jane did it for him.

  “I want you to brush your teeth as soon as you’re finished your breakfast,” she told him. Taking Mary Ann with her, she left the kitchen to get ready for a morning at the beach.

  Just as she’d hoped, the tests that afternoon showed some improvement. Jane was thrilled for more reasons than the obvious. Without discussing it, she called the airline and booked a flight home, then informed her parents as matter-of-factly as possible.

  Stephanie Dickinson went out
that evening for a meeting with her church women’s group—the first social event she’d attended since Harry’s accident. A good sign, in her daughter’s opinion. Jane welcomed the opportunity to pack her bags and prepare for their return. Paul moped around the bedroom while she waited for a phone call from Cal. She’d promised her son he could speak to his father, but wondered if that had been wise. Paul was already tired and cranky, and since Cal was attending a Cattlemen’s Association meeting, he wouldn’t be back until late.

  “I want to go to the beach again,” he said, pouting.

  “We will soon,” Jane promised. “Aren’t you excited about seeing Daddy?”

  Paul’s lower lip quivered as he nodded. “Can Daddy go to the beach with us?”

  “He will one day.”

  That seemed to appease her son, and Jane got him settled with crayons and a Disney coloring book.

  When the phone finally rang, she leaped for it, expecting to hear her husband’s voice. Eager to hear it.

  “Hello,” she said. “Cal?”

  “It’s me.” He sounded reserved, as if he wasn’t sure what kind of reception he’d get.

  “Hello, you,” she said warmly.

  “You’re coming home?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Oh, honey, you don’t know what good news that is!”

  “I do know. I’ll give you the details in a minute. Talk to Paul first, would you?”

  “Paul’s still up? It’s after nine, your time.”

  “It’s been a long day. I took the kids to the beach this morning, and then this afternoon I was at the hospital with my dad when we got the test results.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, I’ll explain later. Here’s Paul.”

  She handed her son the receiver and stepped back while he chatted with his father. The boy described their hours at the beach, then gave her the receiver again. “Daddy says he wants to talk to you now.”

  “All right,” she said. “Give me a kiss good-night and go to bed, okay? We have to get up early tomorrow.”

  Paul stood on tiptoe and she bent down to receive a loud kiss. Not arguing, the boy trotted down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with Mary Ann. Jane waited long enough to make sure he went in.