Читать книгу Home for Christmas: Return to Promise / Can This Be Christmas? - Debbie Macomber - Страница 7

Chapter One

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Cal Patterson knew his wife would be furious when she learned what he’d done. Competing in the annual Labor Day rodeo, however, was worth Jane’s wrath—although very little else was.

Bull riding had always enticed him, even more than bronc riding or roping or any of the other competitions. It was the thrill that got to him, the danger of riding a fifteen-hundred-pound bull, of staying on for eight seconds and sometimes longer. He craved the illusion that for those brief moments he was in control. Cal didn’t do it for the trophy—if he was fortunate enough to take top prize—or to hear his name broadcast across the rodeo grounds. He was drawn by the challenge, pitting his will against the bull’s savage strength, and yes, the risk. Jane would never understand that; she’d been raised a city girl and trained as a doctor, and she disapproved of what she called unnecessary risk. He’d tried to explain his feelings about bull riding, but clearly he’d failed. Jane still objected fervently whenever he mentioned his desire to enter rodeo competitions. Okay, okay, so he’d busted a rib a few years back and spent several pain-filled weeks recuperating. Jane had been angry with him then, too. She’d gotten over it and she would again—but not without inducing a certain amount of guilt first.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she ushered their three-year-old son, Paul, into the bleachers. Cal dutifully followed behind, carrying eighteen-month-old Mary Ann, who was sound asleep in his arms. As soon as his family was settled, he’d be joining the other competitors near the arena. A few minutes later, Jane would open the program and find his name. Once she did, all hell would break loose. He sighed heavily. His brother and sister-in-law would be arriving shortly, and if he was lucky, that’d buy him a couple of minutes.

“Glen and Ellie are meeting us here, aren’t they?” Jane asked, her voice lowered so as not to disturb the baby. His daughter rested her head of soft blond curls against his shoulder, thumb in her mouth. She looked peaceful, downright angelic—which was quite a contrast to her usual energetic behavior.

“They’ll be here soon,” Cal answered, handing Mary Ann to Jane.

With two children demanding her time and attention, plus the ranch house and everything else, Jane had cut back her hours at the medical clinic to one weekend a month. Cal knew she missed practicing medicine on a more frequent basis, but she’d never complained. He considered himself a fortunate man to have married a woman so committed to family. Once the kids were in school, she’d return to full-time practice, but for now, Paul and Mary Ann were the focus of her life.

Just then, Jane reached for the schedule of rodeo events and Cal tensed, anticipating her reaction.

“Cal Patterson, you didn’t!” Her voice rose to something resembling a shriek. She turned and glared at him, her beautiful face contorted in a look of exasperated disbelief.

“Cal?” She waited, apparently hoping for an explanation.

However, he had nothing to say that he hadn’t already said dozens of times. It wouldn’t do any good to trot out his rationalizations yet again; one look told him she wouldn’t be easily appeased. His only option was to throw himself on her good graces and pray she’d forgive him quickly.

“You signed up for the bull ride?”

“Honey, now listen—”

“Are you crazy? You got hurt before! What makes you think you won’t get hurt this time, too?”

“If you’d give me a chance to—”

Jane stood, cradling Mary Ann against her. Paul stared at his parents with a puzzled frown.

“Where are you going?” he asked, trying to come up with some way to mollify her without causing a scene.

“I don’t intend to watch.”

“But, darling…”

She scowled at him. “Don’t you darling me!”

Cal stood, too, and was given a reprieve when Glen and Ellie arrived, making their way down the long, narrow row of seats. His brother paused, glancing from one to the other, and seemed to realized what was happening. “I take it Jane found out?”

“You knew?”

Ellie shook her head. “Not me! I just heard about it myself.”

“Looks like Jane’s leaving me,” Cal joked, hoping to inject some humor into the situation. His wife was overreacting. There wasn’t a single reason she should walk out now, especially when she knew how excited their three-year-old son was about seeing his first rodeo.

“That’s exactly what you deserve,” she muttered, bending to pick up her purse and the diaper bag while holding Mary Ann tightly against her shoulder.

“Mommy?”

“Gather your things,” she instructed Paul. “We’re going home.”

Paul’s lower lip started to quiver, and Cal could tell that his son was trying valiantly not to cry. “I want to see the rodeo.”

“Jane, let’s talk about this,” Cal pleaded.

Paul looked expectantly from his father to his mother, and Jane hesitated.

“Honey, please,” Cal said, hoping to talk her into forgiveness—or at least acceptance. Okay, so he’d kept the fact that he’d signed up for the bull riding a secret, but only because he’d been intent on delaying a fight.

“I don’t want Paul to see you injured,” she argued.

“Have a little faith, would you?”

His wife frowned, her anger simmering.

“I rode bulls for years without a problem. Tell her, Glen,” he said, nodding at his brother.

“Hey,” Glen said, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. “You’re on your own with this one, big brother.”

“I don’t blame you for being mad,” Ellie said, siding with Jane. “I’d be furious, too.”

Women tended to stick together, but despite Ellie’s support, Cal could see that Jane was weakening.

“Let Paul stay for the rodeo, okay?” he cajoled. “He’s been looking forward to it all week. If you don’t want him to see me compete, I understand. Just leave when the bull riding starts. I’ll meet you at the chili cook-off once I’m finished.”

“Please, Mommy? I want to see the rodeo,” Paul said again, eyes huge with longing. The boy pleaded his case far more eloquently than he could, and Cal wasn’t fool enough to add anything more.

Jane nodded reluctantly, and with a scowl in his direction, she sat down. Cal vowed he’d make it up to her later.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her, wanting Jane to know he loved and appreciated her. He slid his arm around her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. But all the while, his heart thundered with excitement at the thought of getting on the back of that bull. He couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering to the chute.

Jane might have been born and raised in the big city, but she was more than a little bit country now. Still, she’d probably never approve of certain rodeo events. Cal recognized her fears, and as a result, rarely competed anymore—hadn’t in five years. But he expected Jane to recognize the impulses that drove him, too. Compromise. Wasn’t that what kept a marriage intact?

Jane had no intention of forgetting Cal’s deceit, but now wasn’t the time or place to have it out with her husband. He knew how she felt about his competing in the rodeo. She’d made her views completely clear, even before they were married.

Still, Jane had acquiesced and held her tongue. She glanced at Cal’s brother and sister-in-law and envied them. Their kids were with a baby-sitter, since they planned to attend the dance later that evening. Jane would’ve preferred to stay herself, but when she’d mentioned it to Cal, he’d balked. Dancing wasn’t his favorite activity and he’d protested and complained until she dropped it.

Then he’d pulled this stunt. Men!

Partway through the rodeo, Paul fell asleep, leaning against her side. Cal had already left to wait down by the arena with the other amateur riders. As the time approached for him to compete, she considered leaving, but then decided to stay. Her stomach would be in knots whether she was there watching him or not. Out of sight wasn’t going to put her risk-taking husband out of her mind, and with Paul asleep, there was no reason to go now.

“Are you worried?” Ellie asked, casting her a sympathetic look.

“Damn straight. I don’t know what Cal was thinking.” He had more to lose than ever, and to risk injury for no practical purpose was beyond her comprehension.

“Who said he was thinking at all?” Ellie teased.

“Yeah—it’s the testosterone,” Jane muttered, wondering what her husband found so appealing about riding such dangerous beasts. Her nerves were shattered, and that wasn’t going to change. Not until she knew he was safe.

“I was hoping you and Cal would come to the dance.”

Ellie was obviously disappointed, but no more than Jane herself. She would have loved an evening out. Had she pressed the issue, Cal would eventually have given in, but it hadn’t seemed worth the arguments and the guilt. Besides, getting a sitter would’ve been difficult, since nearly everyone in Promise attended the annual Labor Day rodeo—and Ellie had managed to snag the services of Emma Bishop, one of the few teenagers available for baby-sitting.

“Cal didn’t want to leave the kids,” she explained. There would be other dances, other opportunities, Jane reassured herself.

“He’s up next,” Glen said.

“Go, Cal!” Ellie squealed. Despite her sister-in-law’s effort to sound sympathetic, Jane could tell she was truly excited.

Sure enough, Cal’s name was announced. Jane didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t stop herself. Cal was inside the pen, sitting astride the bull, one end of a rope wrapped around the saddle horn and the other around his hand. She held her sleeping child more tightly and bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Suddenly the gate flew open and fifteen hundred pounds of angry bull charged into the arena.

Almost immediately, Glen and Ellie were on their feet, shouting. Jane remained seated, her arms around her children. “What’s happening, what’s happening?” she asked Ellie.

“Cal’s doing great!” she exclaimed. Jane could barely hear her over the noise of the crowd. Ellie clapped wildly when the buzzer went. “He stayed on!” she said proudly.

Jane nodded. How he’d managed to last those eight seconds, she had no idea.

“Whew. Glad that’s over.” Ellie sank down next to Jane.

“My brother’s got a real flair for this,” Glen said to no one in particular. “He could have gone on the circuit if…” He let the rest fade.

“If he wasn’t married,” Jane said, completing his thought. Actually Glen’s assessment wasn’t really accurate. Her husband was a long-established rancher before she’d come on the scene. He’d competed in rodeos since he was in his teens, but if he’d been interested in turning professional, he would have done so when he was much younger. She had nothing to do with that decision.

“Glen,” Ellie said, squeezing her husband’s arm, “who’s that woman over there?” Ellie was staring at a brunette standing near the fence.

“What woman?” Glen asked.

“The one talking to Cal.”

Jane glanced over, and even from this distance she could see that the other woman was lovely. Tall and slender, she looked like a model from the pages of a Western-wear catalog in her tight jeans, red cowboy boots and brightly checked shirt. It was more than just her appearance, though. Jane noticed the confidence with which she held herself, the flirtatious way she flipped back her long brown hair. This was a woman who knew she looked good—particularly to men.

“She seems familiar,” Ellie said, nudging Glen. “Don’t you think?”

“She does,” he agreed, “but I can’t place her.”

“She’s apparently got a lot to say to Cal,” Ellie added, then glanced apologetically toward Jane as though she regretted mentioning it.

Jane couldn’t help being curious. The woman wasn’t anyone she recognized. Normally she wasn’t the jealous type, wasn’t now, but she found herself wondering how this Rodeo Princess knew her husband. Even from this distance, it was clear that the woman was speaking animatedly to Cal, gesturing freely. For his part, Cal seemed more interested in what was happening with the rodeo than in listening to her.

Jane supposed she should be pleased by his lack of interest in another woman, and indeed she was. Then, as if aware of her scrutiny, her husband turned toward the bleachers and surveyed the crowd. His face broke into a wide grin when he caught her eye, and he waved. Earlier she’d been annoyed with him—in fact, she still was—but she’d never been able to resist one of Cal’s smiles. She waved in return and blew him a kiss.

An hour later, after Cal had been awarded the trophy for the amateur bull-riding competition, they decided to leave. With Mary Ann in the stroller and Paul walking between them, they made one last circuit of the grounds before heading toward the parking lot. They passed the chili cook-off tent, where the winner’s name was posted; for the first time in recent memory, it wasn’t Nell Grant. But then, Jane understood that Nell had declined to enter this year.

It was near dusk and the lights from carnival rides sparkled, delighting both Paul and Mary Ann. Cal’s arm was around Jane’s shoulder as they skirted the area set aside for the dance. The fiddle players were entertaining the audience while the rest of the musicians set up their equipment. People had gathered around, tapping their feet in anticipation.

The lively music had Jane swaying to the beat. “I wish we were staying,” she murmured, swallowing her disappointment.

“We’d better get home,” Cal said, swinging his trophy at his side. “I didn’t want to say anything before, but I’m about as sore as a man can get.”

“Your rib?” she asked.

He nodded. “Are you going to lecture me?”

“I should,” she muttered. “But I won’t. You knew the risks.”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You’re right. I did.”

What really bothered her was that he’d known—and participated, anyway. He was fully aware that he could have been badly injured, or worse. And for what? She simply didn’t understand why a man would do anything so foolish when he had so much to lose.

“I’m ready to go home,” he said. “How about you?”

Jane nodded, but glanced longingly over her shoulder at the dance floor. Maybe next year.

The phone rang, shattering the night silence. Cal bolted upright and looked at the glowing digital numbers of the clock radio, then snatched the receiver from its cradle. It went without saying that anyone phoning at 3:23 a.m. was calling with bad news.

“Pattersons’,” he barked gruffly.

“Cal? It’s Stephanie.”

Jane’s mother. Something was very wrong; he could hear it in her voice. “What’s happened?”

“It’s…it’s Harry,” she stammered.

Jane awoke and leaned across the bed to turn on the bedside lamp. “Who is it?” she asked.

He raised one hand to defer her question. “Where are you?”

“At the hospital,” Stephanie said, and rattled off the name of a medical facility in Southern California. “Harry’s fallen—he got up the way he sometimes does in the middle of the night and…and he slipped.”

“Is he all right?”

“No,” his mother-in-law answered, her voice trembling. She took a moment to compose herself. “That’s why I’m calling. His hip’s broken and apparently it’s a very bad break. He’s sedated and scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning, but…but the doctors told me it’s going to take weeks before he’s back on his feet.”

“Cal?” Jane was watching him, frowning, her hair disheveled, her face marked by sleep.

“It’s your mother,” he said, placing his hand over the mouthpiece.

“Is this about my dad?”

Cal nodded.

“Let me talk to her,” Jane demanded, instantly alert.

“Stephanie, you’d better talk to Jane yourself,” he said, and handed his wife the phone.

Cal was pretty much able to follow the conversation from that point. With her medical background, Jane was the best person to talk to in circumstances like this. She asked a number of questions concerning medication and tests that had been done, explained the kind of orthopedic surgery her dad would undergo and reassured her mother. She spoke with such confidence that Cal felt his own sense of foreboding diminish. And then she hesitated.

“I’ll need to talk to Cal about that,” she told her mother, voice dropping as though he wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Talk to me about what?” he asked after she’d replaced the receiver.

Jane paused for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“Mom wants me and the kids to fly home.”

“For how long?” The question was purely selfish; still, he needed to know. Being separated would be a hardship on them all. He understood the situation and was willing to do whatever he could, but he didn’t like the thought of their being apart for any length of time.

“I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe longer.”

“Two weeks?” He hated the telltale irritation in his voice, but it was too late to take back his words.

Jane said nothing. Then, as though struck by some brilliant idea, she scrambled onto her knees and a slow smile spread across her face.

“Come with us,” she said urgently.

“To California? Now?” That was out of the question, but he hated to refuse his wife—especially after this business with the rodeo. “Honey, I can’t. Glen and I are getting ready for the bull sale this week. I’m sorry, but this just isn’t a good time for me to be away.”

“Glen could handle the sale.”

What she said was true, but the prospect of spending two weeks at his inlaws’ held little appeal. Cal got along with Jane’s mother and he liked her father well enough, but Harry had a few annoying mannerisms. The two of them tended to become embroiled in ridiculous arguments that served no real purpose and usually went nowhere. Cal suspected it was more a matter of their competing for Jane’s attention. Jane was Harry’s only daughter and he doted on her. Cal figured he’d be doing Harry a favor by staying away. Besides, what would he do with himself in a place like Los Angeles?

“Don’t be so quick to say no,” she pleaded. “We could make this a family vacation. We always talk about going somewhere and it just never happens.” She knew he found it difficult to leave the Lonesome Coyote Ranch for longer than a few days, but this was as good a time as any.

“A vacation? I don’t think so, not with your father laid up and your mother as worried as she is. Besides, Stephanie doesn’t want me there.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s not me she needs, it’s you. Having the kids around will boost your father’s spirits, and your mother’s too. Whereas I’ll just be in the way.”

Jane’s disappointment was obvious. “You’re sure?”

He nodded. “You go. A visit with you and the kids will be the best thing for both your parents, and you’ll have time to connect with your friends, too. It’ll do everyone good.”

Still Jane showed reluctance. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being gone that long?”

“I’ll hate it,” he admitted, and reached for the lamp to turn off the light. Then he lay back down and drew his wife into his arms.

Jane released a deep sigh. “I’m going to hate it, too.”

Cal closed his eyes, already experiencing a sense of loss, and Jane and the children hadn’t even left yet.

The next morning was hectic. The minute she got up, Jane arranged the flight to California and threw clothes, toiletries, toys and baby supplies into several suitcases. No sooner had she finished than Cal piled them all into the car, and drove his family to San Antonio. Paul was excited about riding in an airplane, and even Mary Ann seemed to realize there was adventure ahead.

As always, San Antonio International Airport was bustling with activity, and after checking them in with the airline, Cal quickly ushered Jane and the kids to their gate, where the flight was already boarding.

Kneeling down to meet his son at eye level, Cal put both hands on Paul’s shoulders. “You be good for Mommy, understand?”

His three-year-old nodded solemnly, then tossed his small arms around Cal’s neck, hugging him fiercely.

“I’m counting on you to be as much help to your grandma and grandpa as you can,” Cal added. He felt a wrenching in his stomach. This would be the first time he’d been apart from his children.

“I will,” Paul promised.

Cal noted that his son’s “blankey” was tucked inside his backpack, but said nothing. The blanket was badly worn. It’d been a gift from Jane’s friend Annie Porter, and a point of contention between him and Jane. Cal didn’t like the idea of the boy dragging it around, and Jane felt that Paul would give it up when he was ready.

Cal stood and scooped Mary Ann into his arms. His daughter squirmed, eager to break free and explore this wonderful new place. It was probably a good thing they didn’t have a lot of time for farewells, he reflected unhappily.

“I’ll phone often,” Jane said after he kissed her.

“Do.” Saying goodbye to his family was even more difficult than Cal had anticipated.

The four of them moved toward the jetway, slowed down by the children’s pace and Jane’s carry-on luggage.

“I’m going to miss you,” he murmured as they reached the airline representative who collected the boarding passes.

“Two weeks will go quickly.”

“Right,” Cal agreed, but at the moment those weeks loomed before him in all their emptiness.

Juggling two bags and clutching both children, Jane disappeared into the jetway. Had it been anyone else, Cal would have left then, his duty completed, but he stood at the window and waited until the plane had taxied toward the runway. The feeling of emptiness stayed with him, growing. Deep in his gut, he recognized that he’d let his wife down. He should have gone with her; it was what she’d wanted, what she’d asked of him, but he’d refused. He shook his head miserably. This wasn’t the first time he’d disappointed Jane.

As he turned toward the parking garage, Cal couldn’t shake his reaction to seeing his wife leave. He didn’t want to go to California, and yet he regretted not being on that plane with his family.

“You heard about Jane, didn’t you?” Dovie Hennessey asked her husband. Frank had just come home from the golf course, where he’d played eighteen holes with Phil Patterson, Cal’s father.

Frank, who’d retired three years earlier from his position as sheriff, nodded and made straight for the refrigerator. “According to Phil, Cal drove Jane and the kids to the airport yesterday morning.”

“I give him a week.”

Frank turned around, a pitcher of iced tea in his hand. “A week before what?”

“Before Cal heads into town.”

“Why?”

Exasperated, Dovie rolled her eyes. “Company. He’s going to rattle around that house like a lost soul.”

“Cal? No way!” Frank argued, pouring himself a tall glass of tea. “You seem to forget he was a confirmed bachelor before he met Jane. I was as surprised as anyone when he decided to marry her. Don’t get me wrong. I think it was the smartest thing he ever did….”

“But?” Dovie said.

“Cal isn’t any stranger to living alone,” Frank continued, sitting down at the kitchen table with his tea and the newspaper. “He did it for years. Now, I know he loves Jane and the kids, but my guess is he’s looking forward to two weeks of peace and quiet.”

Dovie couldn’t help herself. Peace and quiet? Frank made it sound as though Cal would welcome a vacation from his own family. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at her husband. “Frank Hennessey, what a rotten thing to say.”

He glanced up from his paper, a puzzled expression on his face. “What was so terrible about that?”

“Jane and the children are not a nuisance in Cal’s life,” she said in a firm voice. “Don’t you realize that?”

“Now, Dovie—”

“Furthermore, you seem to imply that he’s going to enjoy having them gone.”

“I said no such thing,” Frank insisted. “Cal’s going to miss Jane…of course he is. The children, too. What I was trying to say is that spending a couple of weeks without his wife might not be all that bad.” Flustered and avoiding her gaze, Frank rubbed his face. “That didn’t come out right, either.”

Dovie suppressed a smile. They’d been married long enough for her to know what he meant, but she liked giving him a hard time once in a while—partly because he made it so easy. He’d remained a bachelor for the first sixty years of his life. Like Cal, he’d grown accustomed to his own company. He and Dovie had been involved for more than ten years, but Frank had resisted marriage until Pastor Wade McMillen had offered a viable solution. They became husband and wife but kept their own residences. In the beginning, that had worked beautifully, but as time passed, Frank ended up spending more and more nights with her, until it seemed wasteful to maintain two homes. Since he’d retired, Dovie, who owned an antique store, had reduced her hours, as well. They were traveling frequently now, and with Frank taking a role in local politics and becoming active in the senior citizens’ center, why, there just weren’t enough hours in a day.

Patting her husband’s arm as she passed, Dovie said, “I thought I’d make Cal one of my chicken pot pies and we could take it out to him later this week.”

Frank nodded, apparently eager to move away from the subject. “Good idea.” Reaching for his paper, he claimed the recliner and stretched out his legs. Almost immediately, Buttons, the small black poodle they’d recently acquired, leaped into Frank’s lap and circled a couple of times before settling into a comfortable position.

“Nap time?” Dovie asked with a grin.

“Golf tires me out,” Frank said.

“You promised to drive me to the grocery store,” she reminded him, although she was perfectly capable of making the trip on her own. It was the small things they did together that she enjoyed most. The small domestic chores that were part of any marriage.

“In a while,” Frank said sleepily, lowering the newspaper to the floor.

True to his word, an hour later Frank sought her out, apparently ready to tackle a trip to the supermarket. Once they arrived, he found a convenient parking spot, mentioned her offer to make a meal for Cal and grabbed a cart. Dovie marched toward the produce aisle, with Frank close behind.

“Do you have any idea what Cal would enjoy with the pot pie?” she asked.

“I know what I’d enjoy,” Frank teased, and playfully swatted her backside.

“Frank Hennessey,” Dovie protested, but not too loudly; that would only encourage him. She didn’t really mind, though. Frank was openly affectionate, unlike her first husband. Marvin had loved her, she never doubted that, but had displayed his feelings in less obvious ways.

“Who’s that?” Frank asked, his attention on a tall brunette who stood by the oranges, examining them closely.

It took Dovie a moment to remember. “Why, that’s Nicole Nelson.”

“Nicole Nelson,” Frank repeated slowly, as though testing the name. “She’s from Promise?”

“She lived here a few years back,” Dovie said, taking a plastic bag and choosing the freshest-looking bunch of celery.

“How do I know her?” Frank asked, speaking into her ear.

Which told Dovie that Nicole had never crossed the law. Frank had perfect recall of everyone he’d encountered in his work as sheriff.

“She was a teller at the bank.”

“When?”

“Oh, my.” Dovie had to think about that one. “A number of years ago now…nine, maybe ten. She was roommates with Jennifer Healy.”

“Healy. Healy. Why is that name familiar?”

Dovie whirled around, sighing loudly. “Frank, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Jennifer Healy!”

He stared back at her, his expression blank.

“She’s the one who dumped Cal two days before their wedding. It nearly destroyed the poor boy. I still remember how upset Mary was having to call everyone and tell them the wedding had been canceled.” She shook her head. “Nicole was supposed to be her maid of honor.”

Frank’s gaze followed the other woman as she pushed her cart toward the vegetables. “When Jennifer left town, did Nicole go with her?”

Dovie didn’t know, but it seemed to her the two girls had moved around the same time.

“Cal was pretty broken up when Jennifer dumped him,” Frank said. “Good thing she left Promise. Wonder why this one came back…”

“Mary was worried sick about Cal,” Dovie murmured, missing her dearest friend more than ever. Cal’s mother had died almost three years ago, and not a day passed that Dovie didn’t think of her in one way or another.

“I know it was painful at the time, but Jennifer’s leaving was probably a lucky break.”

Dovie agreed with him. “I’m sure Jane thinks so, too.”

Frank generally didn’t pay much attention to other women. His noticing Nicole was unusual enough, but it was the intensity of his focus that perturbed her.

She studied Nicole. Dovie had to admit that the years had been good to Jennifer’s friend. Nicole had been lovely before, but immature. Time had seasoned her beauty and given her an air of casual sophistication. Even the way she dressed had changed. Her hair, too.

“She’s a real looker,” Frank commented.

Dovie saw that her husband wasn’t the only man with his eye on this woman; half the men in the store noticed her—and Nicole was well aware of it.

“I’ll admit she looks attractive,” Dovie said with a certain reluctance.

Frank turned back to her. She didn’t realize right away that he was frowning. “What is it?” she asked.

“What she looks like to me,” he said, ushering her down the aisle, “is trouble.“

Home for Christmas: Return to Promise / Can This Be Christmas?

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