A Country Christmas

by Debbie Macomber

  She grabbed a bottle of hand lotion and occupied herself with that for a few moments, but Vaughn wasn’t fooled. She didn’t want him to see that her eyes were brimming with tears.

  “Hassie will do a far better job of telling you about Vaughn than your father or I could.”

  Impulsively Vaughn hugged his mother, then joined his father, who was watching television in the living room.

  * * *

  On Sunday the drive into Buffalo Valley seemed to go faster than it had on Friday. He knew exactly where he needed to go, and the very landscape he’d found monotonous two days earlier now seemed familiar, even welcoming.

  When he pulled into town, Buffalo Bob was spreading salt on the sidewalk in front of his own place and the businesses on either side. He waved, and Vaughn returned the gesture, then eased into a parking spot near the pharmacy. Once again he was struck by what an appealing town Buffalo Valley was. It felt as though he’d stepped back in time, to an era when family and a sense of community were priorities, when neighbor helped neighbor and people felt responsible for one another.

  A sign on the door stated that the drugstore was open from noon until five on Sundays during December. When he walked inside, Vaughn found Hassie behind the counter. He automatically looked for Carrie and wasn’t disappointed when he saw her over by the cash register, checking receipts. She paused in her task as soon as she saw him.

  To his surprise, his mind had drifted toward her a number of times since Friday. He was attracted by her charm, which was real and uncontrived. She was genuine and warm, and he liked the pride in her eyes when she talked about her town.

  She froze, as if she, too, had been thinking of him. That was a pleasant thought and one that sent a shiver of guilt through him. He was as good as engaged to Natalie, and the last thing he should be doing was flirting with another woman.

  “Right on time,” Hassie said, sounding much livelier this afternoon than she had two days earlier.

  “I’m rarely tardy when I have a date with a beautiful woman,” he teased, and watched both Hassie and Carrie smile. He generally didn’t have much use for flattery, but occasionally it served a purpose. In this case, his rather silly statement had given everyone, including him, a moment of pleasure.

  “You going to be all right here by yourself?” She turned to Carrie.

  “Of course. You two go and visit, and don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “I’ll just get my coat,” Hassie said, and disappeared to retrieve it. While she was gone, he had a few minutes with Carrie.

  “I’m glad you’re doing this for Hassie,” she said. “It means so much to her to be sharing her son’s life with you.”

  “I’m not doing it out of any sense of charity.” Vaughn was truly interested in learning what he could about his namesake.

  Hassie returned, wearing a long, dark coat, and they walked over to her house, which was one street off Main. Vaughn slowed his gait to match hers, tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow. Together they strolled leisurely down the newly shoveled sidewalk.

  The house resembled something out of a 1950s movie. The furniture was large and bulky, covered in thick navy-blue fabric. Doilies decorated the back of the chair, and three were strategically placed across the back of the matching sofa. Even the television set was an old-fashioned floor model.

  “It’ll only take me a minute to make tea,” Hassie announced heading toward the kitchen. He was given instructions to sit down and to look through the photo albums she’d already laid out.

  Vaughn opened the biggest album. The first photograph he saw was a black-and-white version of a much younger Hassie standing with a baby cradled in her arms. A tall, handsome man stood awkwardly beside her, grinning self-consciously. His hand was on the shoulder of a little girl about four or five who stood in front of them, her dark brown hair in long braids.

  Thereafter, photograph after photograph documented the life of Vaughn Knight. He was in Boy Scouts and active in his church. His school pictures showed increasing growth and maturity. When he reached high school, Vaughn had grown tall and athletic; a series of newspaper articles detailed his success on the basketball court and the football field. The year he was a senior, Buffalo Valley High School won the state football championship, with Vaughn Knight as the star quarterback. Another article named him Most Valuable Player.

  His high-school graduation picture revealed the face of a young man eager to explore the world.

  Hassie rejoined him, carrying a tray with a ceramic pot and two matching cups, as well as a plate of small cookies.

  Vaughn stood and took the tray from her, placing it on the coffee table, and waited while she poured. He noticed that her hands were unsteady, but he didn’t interrupt or try to assist her.

  When she’d finished, she picked up a round, plain hatbox and removed the lid. “The top letter is the first one that mentions your mother.”

  Vaughn reached for the envelope.

  September 30, 1966

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  I’m in love. Don’t laugh when you read this. Rick and I went to a hootenanny last night and there was this terrific girl there. Her name’s Barbara Lowell, and guess what? She’s from Grand Forks. She’s got long blond hair and the most incredible smile you’ve ever seen. After the hootenanny we drank coffee and talked for hours. I’ve never felt like this about any other girl. She’s smart and funny and so beautiful I had a hard time not staring at her. Even after I left her, I was so wrapped up in meeting her I couldn’t sleep. First thing this morning, I called her and we talked for two hours. Rick is thoroughly disgusted with me and I don’t blame him, but I’ve never been in love before.

  As soon as I can, I want to bring her home for you to meet. You’ll understand why I feel the way I do once you see her for yourselves.

  Love,

  Vaughn

  “The Rick he’s writing about is my dad?” Vaughn asked.

  Hassie nodded. “Here’s another one you might find interesting.” She lifted a batch of letters from the box. It was apparent from the way she sorted through the dates that she’d reread each letter countless times.

  July 16, 1967

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  I’ve made my decision, but I have to tell you it was probably the most difficult I’ve ever had to make. I love Barb, and both of us want to get married right away. If I were thinking just of me, that’s exactly what we’d do before I ship out. But I’m following your example, Dad. You and Mom waited until after the war to marry, and you came back safe and whole. I will, too.

  Barb cried when I told her I felt it was best to delay the wedding until after my tour. Although you never advised me one way or the other, I had the feeling you thought it was better this way.

  Vaughn stopped reading. “Did you want him to wait before marrying my mother?”

  Hassie closed her eyes. “His father and I thought they were both too young. In the years that followed, I lived to regret that. Perhaps if Vaughn had married your mother, there might have been a grandchild. I realize that’s terribly selfish, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “I always wondered if Jerry would’ve lived longer if we’d had grandchildren. Valerie was still in college at the time and wasn’t married yet. A few years after that, she moved to Hawaii to take a job and met her husband there, but by then it was too late for Jerry.”

  “So your husband took the news of Vaughn’s death very hard?”

  “Once we received word about Vaughn, my husband was never the same. He was close to both children, but the shock of Vaughn’s death somehow made him lose his emotional balance. Much as he loved Valerie and me, he couldn’t get over the loss of his son. He went into a deep depression and started having heart problems. A year later, he died, too.”

  “Heart attack?”

 
“Technically, yes, but Vaughn’s death is what really killed him, despite what that death certificate said. He simply gave up caring about anything. I wish...” Her voice trailed off.

  “I’m sorry,” Vaughn said, and meant it.

  “Don’t be.” She patted his hand. “God knew better. Had your mother and my son married, you would never have been born.”

  It must have hit her hard that her son’s fiancée and closest friend married each other within a year of his death. “Were you upset when my parents got married?” he asked.

  “A little in the beginning, but then I realized that was exactly what Vaughn would have wanted. He did love her, and I know in my heart of hearts that she loved him, too.”

  “She did.” Vaughn could say that without hesitation.

  Hassie plucked a tissue from the nearby box and dabbed at her eyes. “I’d like you to have this.” She reached for a second box and withdrew a heavy felt crest displaying the letters BVHS. It took Vaughn a moment to recognize that it was from a letterman’s jacket.

  “Vaughn was very proud of this. He earned it in wrestling. He was a natural at most sports. Basketball and football were barely a challenge, but that wasn’t the case with wrestling. Many an afternoon he’d walk into the pharmacy and announce to his father and me that he was quitting. By dinnertime he’d change his mind and then he’d go back the next day.” She paused, dabbing at her eyes again. “Our children were the very best of Jerry and me. Vaughn was a good son, and losing him changed all of us forever.”

  “I’d be honored to have this letter,” Vaughn said.

  “Thank you,” Hassie whispered. She smiled faintly through her tears. “You must think me an old fool.”

  “No,” he was quick to tell her. “I’m very glad you showed me all this.” For the first time Vaughn Knight was more than a name, someone remembered who’d been lost in a war fought half a world away. He was alive in the words of his letters, in the photographs and in the heart of his mother.

  “His letters from Vietnam are in this box,” Hassie said. “They’ll give you a feel for what it was like. If you’re interested...”

  Having served in the military, Vaughn was, of course, interested. He sat back and read the first letter. When he’d finally finished them all, it’d grown dark and Hassie was busy in the kitchen.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “It’s after six.”

  “No.” He found that hard to believe. “I had no idea I’d kept you this long. I apologize, Hassie. You should have stopped me.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t. Your interest was a pleasure to me. Everything was fine with the store—Carrie’s fully capable of handling anything that might come up. Besides, we’re closed now.”

  “He could’ve been a writer, your son,” Vaughn said, setting aside the last letter. For a few hours he’d been completely drawn into Vaughn Knight’s descriptions of people and landscapes and events. Although the details were lightly sketched, a vivid picture of the young soldier’s life had revealed itself through his words.

  “I often thought that myself,” Hassie agreed. After a brief silence she said, “I didn’t want to interrupt you to ask about dinner. I hope it wasn’t overly presumptuous to assume you’d join me.”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  Hassie nodded once, slowly, as if she considered his company of great worth.

  While she put the finishing touches on the meal, Vaughn phoned his parents to tell them he’d be later than anticipated. “Be sure and give Hassie my love,” his mother instructed. “Tell her your father and I plan to visit her soon.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  When he ended the phone conversation, he found Hassie setting the table. He insisted on taking over, eager to contribute something to their dinner. His admiration and love for the older woman had grown this afternoon in ways he hadn’t thought possible on such short acquaintance. She’d opened his eyes to a couple of important things. First and foremost, he’d learned about the man he’d been named after and discovered he had quite a lot to live up to. Second, he’d come to see his parents in a new light. He understood how their fallen friend had shaped their lives and their marriage. It was no wonder they didn’t often speak of Vaughn Knight. The years might have dulled the pain, but the sense of loss was as strong in them as it was in Hassie.

  They chatted over dinner, and his mood lightened. Hassie was wise and considerate; she seemed to understand how serious his thoughts had become.

  “The community is lighting the Christmas tree this evening,” she said casually as Vaughn carried their dishes to the sink.

  “Are you going?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Hassie informed him. “The Christmas tree is set up beside the War Memorial. Nearly everyone in town will be there—” she paused and looked at him “—including Carrie.”

  “Are you playing matchmaker with me, Hassie Knight?” he asked. He had a feeling she didn’t miss much—and that she’d seen the way his gaze had been drawn to Carrie when he’d entered the pharmacy.

  Hassie chuckled. “She’s smitten, you know.”

  Smitten. What a wonderful old-fashioned word, Vaughn mused. It would take a better man than him not to feel flattered.

  “You could do worse.”

  “And how do you know I don’t already have a girlfriend waiting for me in Seattle?” he asked, and wondered what Hassie would think of Natalie. For some reason he had the impression she wouldn’t think much of her sharp-edged sophistication. It’d taken him a while to see past Natalie’s polished exterior; once he had, he’d realized she was just like everyone else, trying to be noticed and to make a name for herself.

  “You don’t,” Hassie returned confidently.

  He was about to tell her about Natalie, when Hassie said, “Come with me. Come and watch the community tree being lit. There’s no better way to learn about Buffalo Valley.”

  Vaughn’s purpose, other than meeting Hassie, was to do exactly that. Still, seeing Carrie again appealed to him, too—more than it should.

  “That’s just what I need to put me in the Christmas spirit,” Vaughn said. “I’d consider it an honor to accompany you.”

  “Wonderful.” Hassie clasped her hands together as though to keep herself from clapping with delight. “I can’t tell you how happy this makes me.”

  He helped her on with her coat, then grabbed his own. Taking her arm again, Vaughn guided her out the door and down the front steps. By the time they rounded the corner to Main Street and the City Park, the town was coming to life. There were groups of people converging on the park and cars stopping here and there. The air was filled with festivity—carols played over a loudspeaker, kids shrieking excit-edly, shouts of welcome...and laughter everywhere. Vaughn could practically feel the happiness all around him.

  “This is about as close as it gets to a traffic jam in Buffalo Valley,” Hassie told him.

  As soon as they appeared, it seemed everyone in town called a greeting to Hassie. Vaughn had never seen anything to compare with the reverence and love people obviously felt for her.

  “You’ve been holding out on me, Hassie Knight,” an older man teased as he approached. “I didn’t realize I had competition.”

  “Cut it out, Joshua McKenna.” Hassie grinned. “Meet Vaughn Kyle.”

  “Mighty pleased to meet you.” The man thrust out his hand for Vaughn to shake.

  “Nearly everyone in a fifty-mile radius is coming,” Joshua said, glancing around him. More and more cars arrived, and the park was actually getting crowded.

  “I don’t see Calla. She’s not going to make it home this year?”

  “And miss spoiling her baby brother?” Joshua returned. “You’re joking, right?”

  Hassie laughed delightedly. “I should have known better.”

&nbs
p; “Jeb, Maddy and the kids are already here.”

  The names flew over Vaughn’s head, but it was apparent that Hassie loved each family.

  “Maddy owns the grocery,” Joshua explained as they strolled across the street and entered the park. “She’s married to my son. Best thing that ever happened to him.”

  “Oh, yes—I saw the grocery,” Vaughn said. “Maddy. I remember. The fantastic reindeer.”

  Joshua grinned widely. “Yup, that’s our Maddy. Loves any excuse to decorate—and does a great job.”

  “They have two of the most precious children you’ll ever want to see,” Hassie added, “with another on the way.”

  “The first pregnancy and this latest one were real surprises.”

  “I’ll bet Jeb’s developed a liking for blizzards,” Hassie murmured, and the two older folks burst into laughter.

  “You’d have to know the history of that family to understand what’s so amusing,” Carrie said, joining them.

  “Hello again,” Vaughn murmured.

  “Hi.”

  Vaughn had trouble looking away.

  “How about you and Carrie getting me some hot chocolate?” the older woman asked.

  “Bring some for me, too, while you’re at it,” Joshua said.

  “I think we just got our marching orders,” Carrie told him, her eyes smiling. “Is that okay?”

  “I don’t mind if you don’t,” Vaughn replied.

  The cold had brought color to her cheeks, and her long blond hair straggled out from under her wool hat. “It’s fine with me. Buffalo Bob and Merrily are serving cocoa and cookies over there,” she said a little breathlessly.

  “I’ll be right back,” Vaughn said over his shoulder as he followed Carrie.

  “Don’t rush,” Hassie called after him...and then he thought he saw her wink at him.

  Three

  The Christmas lights strung around the outside of the old house welcomed Vaughn back to his parents’ home. His mother had been born and raised in Grand Forks, but his grandparents had moved to Arizona when he was six. Vaughn had no recollection of visiting the Dakotas, although he was certain they had. His memories centered on the Denver area and his father’s family. Not until Rick was accepted for early retirement did they decide to return to the home that had been in the Lowell family for more than a hundred years.