Debbie Macomber - Home for Christmas

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.