Christmas Trio B. Debbie Macomber

had no idea how to respond.

      Fortunately he didn’t have to. “You fellows interested in buying one of Cliff’s horses?” the old curmudgeon asked.

      “Not really.” Linc hoped that wasn’t disappointing news. “We’re, uh, supposed to be meeting our sister, who’s staying at the Harding place.”

      “We had directions,” Mel explained.

      “But we sort of got turned around.”

      “In other words, we’re lost,” Linc said.

      “Lemme make you those sandwiches.”

      “What about giving us directions?”

      King, or whatever his name was, sighed as if this was asking too much. “I could—for a price.”

      Linc slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter.

      The grouch eyed the money and shrugged. “That might get you there. Then again, it might not.”

      Linc threw in another ten. “This is all you’re getting.”

      “Fine.” He pocketed the money and slouched off toward the kitchen. “I’ll be back with your order.”

      Ten minutes later, he returned with a large white bag packed with sandwiches, potato chips and canned sodas. Linc decided not to ask how old the meat loaf was. He paid the tab and didn’t complain about the price, which seemed seriously in flated.

      “About those directions?” Linc asked.

      Ned took out the map the firefighter had drawn and spread it on the linoleum counter. The route from Cedar Cove to the Harding place looked pretty direct, and Linc didn’t know how he’d managed to get so confused.

      “The King’s gonna set you straight,” the grouch told them.

      “Good, because we are lost,” Mel said, dragging out the last word.

      “Big-time lost,” Ned added.

      This was a point that did not need further emphasis. Linc would’ve preferred his brothers keep their mouths shut, but that wasn’t likely to happen.

      “Okay, you’re here,” King informed them, drawing a circle around their current location. He highlighted the street names at the closest intersection. “You’re near the corner of Burley and Glenwood.”

      “Got it,” Linc said.

      “You need to head east.”

      “East,” Linc repeated.

      “Go down about two miles and you cross the highway via the overpass.”

      “Okay, got that.”

      The grouch turned the directions around and circled the Harding ranch. “This is where Cliff and Grace Harding live.”

      “Okay.”

      “So, all you do after you cross the highway is go east. Keep going until you see the water, then turn left. The Harding place will be about three-quarters of a mile down the road on the left-hand side.”

      “Thanks,” Linc said. Those directions seemed easy enough for anyone to follow. Even the three of them.

      The grouch frowned at him, and Linc assumed he was hinting for more money, which he wasn’t about to get. Grabbing their sandwiches, Linc handed the bag to his youngest brother and they piled out the door.

      “Merry Christmas,” Ned called over his shoulder. Apparently he hadn’t grasped yet that this man wasn’t doing any kind of celebrating.

      The grouch’s frown darkened. “Yeah, whatever.”

      Linc waited until they were back in the vehicle before he commented. “Miserable old guy.”

      “A regular Scrooge,” Mel said.

      Ned tore open the sack and passed one sandwich to Linc and another to Mel. Linc bit into his. The old grouch made a good meat loaf sandwich, surprisingly enough, and right now that compensated for a lot.

      The three of them wolfed down the food and nearly missed the sign for the highway overpass.

      “Hey, you two, I’m driving,” Linc said, swallowing the last bite. “Pay attention, will you?”

      “Sorry.” Ned stared out at the road.

      “He said to drive until we can see the water,” Linc reminded them.

      “It’s dark,” Mel protested. “How are we supposed to see water?”

      “We’ll know when we find it,” Ned put in.

      Linc rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re right, that’s all I can say.”

      Linc couldn’t tell how far they’d driven, but the water never came into view. “Did we miss something?” he asked his brothers.

      “Keep going,” Mel insisted. “He didn’t say when we’d see the water.”

      “He didn’t,” Linc agreed, but he had a bad feeling about this. The road wasn’t straight ahead the way the grouch had drawn it on the map. It twisted and turned until Linc was, once again, so confused he no longer knew if he was going east or west.

      “You don’t think that King guy would’ve intentionally given us the wrong directions, do you?”

      “Why would he do that? “ Mel asked. “You paid him twenty bucks.”

      Linc remembered the look on the other man’s face. He’d wanted more. “Maybe it wasn’t enough.”

      “Maybe Mr. Scrooge back there needs three visitors tonight,” Ned suggested. “If you know what I mean.”

      “He had three visitors—us.”

      “Yeah, and I think he was trying to con us,” Linc muttered.

      “I guess he succeeded,” Mel said, just as Ned asked, “But why? What’s the point?”

      “The point is that he’s trying to make us miserable,” Linc said. “As miserable as he is, the old coot.”

      The three of them fell into a glum silence. It sure didn’t feel like any Christmas Eve they’d ever had before.

       Chapter Sixteen

      By the time Grace and Cliff arrived at church for the Christmas Eve service, both her daughters and their husbands were already seated. So were Lisa, Rich and April. Maryellen held Drake, who slept peacefully in his mother’s arms. Katie, as well as Tyler, were with the other local children getting ready for the big Christmas pageant.

      Katie was excited about being an angel, although Tyler, who’d been assigned the role of a shepherd, didn’t show much enthusiasm for his stage debut. If he displayed any emotion at all, it was disappointment that he couldn’t bring his drum. Kelly had explained to him that the shepherds of the day played the flute, not drums, because drums would frighten the sheep. The explanation satisfied Tyler, who was of a logical disposition, but it didn’t please him.

      Grace and Cliff located a pew directly behind her daughters and Lisa. As they slipped in, Grace whispered that she’d prefer to sit closest to the aisle, craving the best possible view of her grandchildren’s performances. Once they were seated, Cliff reached for her hand, entwining their fingers.

      Maryellen turned around and whispered, “Is everything all right with Mary Jo?”

      “I think so.” Grace still didn’t feel comfortable about leaving her alone. But Mary Jo had been adamant that Grace join her family, so she had. Now, however, she wished she’d stayed behind.

      Cliff squeezed her hand as the white-robed choir sang Christmas hymns, accompanied by the organist. “O Come All Ye Faithful” had never sounded more beautiful.

      Olivia