A Country Christmas

by Debbie Macomber

  * * *

  Cal did whatever he could to help Jane, her younger brother and her mother with the funeral arrangements. Jane was in a stupor most of the first day. Her mother was in even worse shape. The day of the funeral Stephanie Dickinson had to be given a sedative.

  Paul was too young to remember Cal’s mother, and Cal doubted Mary Ann would recall much of Grandpa Dickinson, either. All the children knew was that something had happened that made their mother and grandmother cry. They didn’t understand what Cal meant when he explained that their grandfather had died.

  The funeral was well attended, as was the reception that followed. Cal was glad to see that there’d been flowers from quite a few people in Promise—including, of course, Annie. Harry Dickinson had been liked and respected. Cal admired the way Jane stepped in and handled the social formalities. Her mother just couldn’t do it, and her brother, Derek, seemed trapped in his own private pain.

  Later, after everyone had left, he found his wife sitting in the darkened kitchen. Cal sat at the table beside her, but when he reached for her, she stiffened. Not wanting to upset her, he removed his hand from her arm.

  “You must be exhausted,” he said. “When’s the last time you ate?”

  “I just buried my father, Cal. I don’t feel like eating.”

  “Honey—”

  “I need a few minutes alone, please.”

  Cal nodded, then stood up and walked out of the room. The house was dark, the children asleep, but the thought of going to bed held no appeal. Sedated, his mother-in-law was in her room and his wife sat in the shadows.

  The day he’d buried his own mother had been the worst of his life. Jane had been by his side, his anchor. He didn’t know how he could have survived without her. Yet now, with her father’s death, she’d sent him away, asked for time alone. It felt like a rejection of him and his love, and that hurt.

  Everyone handled grief differently, he reminded himself. People don’t know how they’ll react until it happens to them, he reasoned. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he mulled over the events of the past few days. They were a blur in his mind.

  His arms ached to hold Jane. He loved his wife, loved his children. Their marriage had been going through a rough time, but everything would work out; he was sure of it. Cal waited for Jane to come to bed, and when she didn’t, he must have fallen asleep. He awoke around two in the morning and discovered he was alone. Still in his clothes, he got up and went in search of his wife.

  She was sitting where he’d left her. “Jane?” he whispered, not wanting to startle her.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “It’s ten after two. Come to bed.”

  She responded with a shake of her head. “No. I can’t.”

  “You’ve haven’t slept in days.”

  “I know how long it’s been,” she snapped, showing the first bit of life since that phone call with the terrible news.

  “Honey, please! This is crazy, sitting out here like this. You haven’t changed your clothes. This has been a hard day for you....”

  She looked away, and in the room’s faint light, he saw tears glistening on her face.

  “I want to help you,” he said urgently.

  “Do you, Cal? Do you really?”

  Her question shocked him. “You’re my wife! Of course I do.”

  She started to sob then, and Cal was actually glad to see it. She needed to acknowledge her grief, to somehow express it. Other than when she’d first received the news, Jane had remained dry-eyed and strong. Her mother and brother were emotional wrecks, and her uncle Ken had been badly shaken. It was Jane who’d held them all together, Jane who’d made the decisions and arrangements, Jane who’d seen to the guests and reassured family and friends. It was time for her to let go, time to grieve.

  “Go ahead and cry, Jane. It’ll do you good.” He handed her a clean handkerchief.

  She clutched it to her face and sobbed more loudly.

  “May I hold you?”

  “No. Just leave me alone.”

  Cal crouched in front of her. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I want to help you,” he said again. “Let me do that, all right?”

  She shook her head.

  “At least come to bed,” he pleaded. She didn’t resist when he clasped her by the forearms and drew her to her feet. Her legs must have gone numb from sitting there so long because she leaned heavily against him as he led her into the bedroom.

  While she undressed, Cal turned back the covers.

  She seemed to have trouble unfastening the large buttons of her tailored jacket. Brushing her hands aside, Cal unbuttoned it and helped take it off. When she was naked, he pulled the nightgown over her head, then brought her arms through the sleeves. He lowered her onto the bed and covered her with the blankets.

  She went to sleep immediately—or that was what he thought.

  As soon as he climbed into bed himself and switched off the light, she spoke. “Cal, I’m not going back.”

  “Back? Where?”

  “To Promise,” she told him.

  This made no sense. “Not going back to Promise?” he repeated.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” he asked, his voice louder than he’d intended. He stretched out one arm to turn on the lamp again.

  “I can’t deal with all the stress in our marriage. Not after this.”

  “But, Jane, we’ll settle everything....”

  “She wants you.”

  At first he didn’t understand that Jane was talking about Nicole Nelson. Even when he did, it took him a while to control the anger and frustration. “Are you saying she can have me?” he asked, figuring a light approach might work better.

  “She’s determined, you know—except you don’t know. You don’t believe me.”

  “Jane, please, think about what you’re saying.”

  “I have thought about it. It’s all I’ve thought about for days. You’re more worried about me embarrassing you than what that woman’s doing to us. I don’t have the strength or the will to fight for you. Not after today.”

  Patience had never been his strong suit, but Cal knew he had to give her some time and distance, not force her to resume their normal life too quickly. “Let’s talk about it later. Tomorrow morning.”

  “I won’t feel any differently about this in the morning. I’ve already spoken to Uncle Ken.”

  For years her uncle had wanted Jane to join his medical practice and had been bitterly disappointed when she’d chosen to stay in Texas, instead. “You’re going to work for your uncle?”

  “Temporarily.”

  Jane had arranged all this behind his back? Unable to hide his anger now, Cal tossed aside the sheet and vaulted out of bed. “You might’ve said something to me first! What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Thinking?” she repeated. “I’m thinking about a man who lied to me and misled me.”

  “I never lied to you,” he declared. “Not once.”

  “It was a lie of omission. You thought that what I didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me, right? Well, guess what, Cal? It does hurt. I don’t want to be in a marriage where my husband’s more concerned about being embarrassed than he is about the gossip and ridicule he subjects me to.”

  He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “You’re not being logical.”

  “Oh, yes, I am.”

  Cal strode to one end of the bedroom and stood there, not knowing what to do.

  “You’ll notice that even now, even when you know how I feel, you haven’t once asked me to reconsider. Not once have you said you love me.”

  “You haven’t exactly been proclaiming your love for me, either.”

  His words appeared to hit their mark, and she grew noticeably paler.

  “Do you want me to leave right n
ow?” he asked.

  “I...I...” She floundered.

  “No need to put it off,” he said, letting his anger talk for him.

  “You’re right.”

  Cal jerked his suitcase out of the closet and crammed into it whatever clothes he could find. That didn’t take long, although he gave Jane ample opportunity to talk him out of leaving, to say she hadn’t really meant it.

  Apparently she did.

  Cal went into the bedroom where the children slept and kissed his daughter’s soft cheek. He rested his hand on his son’s shoulder, then abruptly turned away. A heaviness settled over his heart, and before he could surrender to regret, he walked away.

  Seven

  “I know how hard this is on you,” Jane’s mother said. It was two weeks since the funeral. Two weeks since Jane had separated from her husband. Stephanie busied herself about the kitchen and avoided eye contact. “But, Jane, are you sure you did the right thing?” She pressed her lips together and concentrated on cleaning up the breakfast dishes. “Ken’s delighted that you’re going to work with him, and the children are adjusting well, but...”

  “I’m getting my own apartment.”

  “I won’t hear of it,” her mother insisted. “If you’re going through with this, I want you to stay here. I don’t want you dealing with a move on top of everything else.”

  “Mother, it’s very sweet of you, but you need your space, too.”

  “No...” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to live alone—I don’t think I can. I never have, you know. Not in my entire life and...well, I realize I’m leaning on you, but I need you so desperately.”

  “Mother, I understand.”

  “It’s not just that. I’m so worried about you and Cal.”

  “I know,” Jane whispered. She tried not to think of him, or of the situation between them. There’d been no contact whatsoever. Cal had left in anger, and at the time she’d wanted him out of her life.

  “Did you make an appointment with an attorney?” her mother asked.

  Jane shook her head. It was just one more thing she’d delayed doing. One more thing she couldn’t make a decision about. Most days she could barely get out of bed and see to the needs of her children. Uncle Ken was eager to have her join his practice. He’d already discussed financial arrangements and suggested a date for her to start—the first Monday in the new year. Jane had listened carefully to his plans; however, she’d felt numb and disoriented. This wasn’t what she wanted, but everything had been set in motion and she didn’t know how to stop it. Yet she had to support herself and the children. So far she hadn’t needed money, but she would soon. Cal would send support if she asked for it. She lacked the courage to call him, though. She hated the idea of their first conversation being about money.

  “You haven’t heard from Cal, have you?” Her mother broke into her thoughts.

  “No.” His silence wasn’t something Jane could ignore. She’d envisioned her husband coming back for her, proclaiming his love and vowing never to allow any woman to stand between him and his family. Ignoring Jane was bad enough, but the fact that he hadn’t seen fit to contact the children made everything so much worse. It was as though he’d wiped his family from his mind.

  Two months ago Jane assumed she had a near-perfect marriage. Now she was separated and living with her mother. Still, she believed that, if not for the death of her father, she’d be back in Texas right now. Eventually they would’ve worked out this discord; they would have rediscovered their love. Instead, in her pain and grief over the loss of her father, she’d sent Cal away.

  She reminded herself that she hadn’t needed to ask him twice. He’d been just as eager to escape.

  Nicole Nelson had won.

  At any other time in her life Jane would have fought for her husband, but now she had neither the strength nor the emotional energy to do so. From all appearances, Cal had made his choice—and it wasn’t her or the children.

  “We should talk about Thanksgiving,” her mother said. “It’s next week....”

  “Thanksgiving?” Jane hadn’t realized the holiday was so close.

  “Ken and Jean asked us all to dinner. What do you think?”

  Jane had noticed that her mother was having a hard time making decisions, too. “Sounds nice,” she said, not wanting to plan that far ahead. Even a week was too much. She couldn’t bear to think about the holidays, especially Christmas.

  The doorbell chimed and Jane answered it, grateful for the interruption. Facing the future, making plans—it was just too difficult. A deliveryman stood with a box and a form for her to sign. Not until Jane closed the door did she see the label addressed to Paul in Cal’s distinctive handwriting.

  She carried the package into the bedroom, where her son sat doing a jigsaw puzzle. He glanced up when she entered the room.

  “It’s from Daddy,” she said, setting the box on the carpet.

  Paul tore into the package with gusto and let out a squeal when he found his favorite blanket. He bunched it up and hugged it to his chest, grinning hugely. Jane looked inside the box and saw a short letter. She read it aloud.

  Dear Paul,

  I thought you might want to have your old friend with you. Give your little sister a hug from me.

  Love,

  Daddy

  Jane swallowed around the lump in her throat. Cal’s message in that letter was loud and clear. He’d asked Paul to hug Mary Ann, but not her.

  Jane was on her own.

  * * *

  The post office fell silent when Cal stepped into the building. The Moorhouse sisters, Edwina and Lily, stood at the counter, visiting with Caroline Weston, who was the wife of his best friend, as well as the local postmistress. Caroline had taken a leave of absence from her duties for the past few years, but had recently returned to her position.

  When the three women saw Cal, the two retired schoolteachers pinched their lips together and stiffly drew themselves up.

  “Good day, ladies,” Cal said, touching the brim of his hat.

  “Cal Patterson,” Edwina said briskly. “I only wish you were in the fifth grade again so I could box your ears.”

  “How’re you doing, Cal?” Caroline asked in a friendlier tone.

  He didn’t answer because anyone looking at him ought to be able to tell. He was miserable and getting more so every day. By now he’d fully expected his wife to come to her senses and return home. He missed her and he missed his kids. He barely ate, hadn’t slept an entire night since he got back and was in a foul mood most of the time.

  Inserting the key in his postal box, he opened the small door. He was about to collect his mail when he heard Caroline’s voice from the post-office side of the box. “Cal?”

  He reached for the stack of envelopes and flyers, then peered through. Sure enough, Caroline was looking straight at him.

  “I just wanted to tell you how sorry Grady and I are.”

  He nodded, rather than comment.

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Not a thing,” he said curtly, wanting Caroline and everyone else, including the Moorhouse sisters, to know that his problems with Jane were his business...and hers. No one else’s.

  “Cal, listen—”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m in a hurry.” Not waiting for her reply, Cal locked his postal box and left the building.

  When he’d first returned from California, people had naturally assumed that Jane had stayed on with the children to help Mrs. Dickinson. Apparently news of the separation had leaked out after Annie called Jane at her mother’s home. From that point on, word had spread faster than a flash flood. What began as simple fact became embellished with each retelling. Family and friends knew more about what was happening—or supposedly happening—in his life than he did, Cal thought sardonically.

  Only ye
sterday Glen had asked him about the letter from Paul. Cal hadn’t heard one word from his wife or children, but then he hadn’t collected his mail, either. When Cal asked how Glen knew about this letter, his brother briskly informed him that he’d heard from Ellie. Apparently Ellie had heard it from Dovie, and Dovie just happened to be in the post office when Caroline was sorting mail. That was life in a small town.

  As soon as he stepped out of the post office, Cal quickly shuffled through the envelopes and found the letter addressed to him in Jane’s familiar writing. The return address showed Paul’s name.

  Cal tore into the envelope with an eagerness he couldn’t hide.

  Dear Daddy,

  Thank you for my blankey. I sleep better with it. Mary Ann likes it, too, and I sometimes share with her. Grandma still misses Grandpa. We’re spending Thanksgiving with Uncle Ken and Aunt Jean.

  Love,

  Paul

  Cal read the letter a second time, certain he was missing something. Surely there was a hidden message there from Jane, a subtle hint to let him know what she was thinking. Perhaps the mention of Thanksgiving was her way of telling him that she was proceeding with her life as a single woman. Her way of informing him that she was managing perfectly well without a husband.

  Thanksgiving? Cal had to stop and think about the date. It’d been nearly three weeks since he’d last talked to Jane. Three weeks since he’d hugged his children. Three weeks that he’d been walking around in a haze of wounded pride and frustrated anger.

  Not wanting to linger in town, Cal returned to the ranch. He looked at the calendar and was stunned to see that he’d nearly missed the holiday. Not that eating a big turkey dinner would’ve made any difference to him. Without his wife and children, the day would be just like all the rest, empty and silent.

  * * *

  Thanksgiving Day Cal awoke with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Glen had tried to talk him into joining his family. Ellie’s mother and aunt were flying in from Chicago for the holiday weekend, he’d said, but Cal was more than welcome. Cal declined without regrets.