Home for Christmas. Debbie Macomber

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Название Home for Christmas
Автор произведения Debbie Macomber
Жанр Контркультура
Серия MIRA
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474007184



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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.“

       Chapter Two

      Cal had lived in this ranch house his entire life, and the place had never seemed as big or as empty as it did now. Jane hadn’t been gone a week and already the silence was driving him to wander aimlessly from room to room. Exhausted from a day that had started before dawn, he’d come home and once again experienced a sharp pang of loneliness.

      Normally when Cal got back to the house, Paul rushed outside to greet him. The little boy always launched himself off the porch steps into his father’s waiting arms as if he’d waited for this moment the entire day. Later, after Cal had showered and Jane dealt with getting dinner on the table, he spent time with his daughter. As young as Mary Ann was, she already had a dynamic personality and persuasive powers to match. Cal knew she was going to be a beauty when she grew up—and he’d be warding off boys. Mary Ann was like her mother in her loveliness, energy…and her stubborn nature.

      Cal’s life had changed forever the day he married Jane. Marriage was more than the smartest move of his life; it was the most comfortable. Being temporarily on his own made him appreciate what he had. He’d gotten used to a great many things, most of which he hadn’t stopped to consider for a long time: shared passion, the gentle companionship of the woman he loved, a family that gave him a sense of purpose and belonging. In addition, Jane ran their