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

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He shook his head and didn’t offer her an excuse to linger.

“I’ll stay if you like and put together a salad.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

She smiled sweetly. “In that case, enjoy.”

This time when she left, Cal knew to stand far enough aside to avoid any physical contact. He watched her walk back to her car, aware of an overwhelming sense of relief.

Life at the retirement center suited Phil Patterson. He had his own small apartment and didn’t need to worry about cooking. The monthly fee included three meals a day. He could choose to eat alone in his room or sit in the dining room if he wanted company. Adjusting to life without Mary hadn’t been easy—wasn’t easy now—but he kept active and that helped. So did staying in touch with friends. Particularly Frank Hennessey. Gordon Pawling, too. The three men played golf every week.

Frank’s wife, Dovie, and Mary had been close for many years, and in some ways Mary’s death had been as hard on Dovie as it was on Phil. At the end, when Mary was no longer able to recognize either of them, Phil had sat and wept with his wife’s dear friend. He hadn’t allowed himself to break down in front of either of his sons, but felt no such compunction when he was around Dovie. She’d cried with him, and their shared grief had meant more than any words she might have said.

Frank and Dovie had Phil to dinner at least once a month, usually on the first Monday. He thought it was a bit odd that Frank had issued an invitation that afternoon when they’d finished playing cards at the seniors’ center.

“It’s the middle of the month,” Phil protested. “I was over at your place just two weeks ago.”

“Do you want to come for dinner or not?” Frank said.

Only a fool would turn down one of Dovie’s dinners. That woman could cook unlike anyone he knew. Even Mary, who was no slouch when it came to preparing a good meal, had envied Dovie’s talent.

“I’ll be there,” Phil promised, and promptly at five-thirty, he arrived at Frank and Dovie’s, a bouquet of autumn flowers in his hand.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Dovie said when she greeted him, kissing his cheek lightly.

Phil immediately caught a whiff of something wonderful—a blend of delightful aromas. He smelled bread fresh from the oven and a cake of some sort, plus the spicy scent of one of her Cajun specialties.

Frank and Phil settled down in the living room and Dovie soon joined them, carrying an appetizer plate full of luscious little things. A man sure didn’t eat this well at the retirement center, he thought. Good thing, too, or he’d be joining the women at their weekly weight-loss group.

Phil helped himself to a shrimp, dipping it in a spicy sauce. Frank opened a bottle of red wine and brought them each a glass.

They chatted amiably for several minutes, but Phil knew something was on Dovie’s mind—the same way he always knew when Mary was worried about one thing or another. Phil had an inkling of what it was, too, and decided to break the ice and make it easier for his friends.

“It’s times like these that I miss Mary the most,” he murmured, choosing a brie-and-mushroom concoction next.

“You mean for social get-togethers and such?” Frank asked.

“Well, yes, those, too,” Phil said. “The dinners with friends and all the things we’d planned to do once we retired.”

Dovie and Frank waited.

“I wish Mary were here to talk to Cal.”

His friends exchanged glances, and Phil realized he’d been right. They’d heard about Cal and Nicole Nelson.

“You know?” Frank asked.

Phil nodded. It wasn’t as though he could avoid hearing. Promise, for all its prosperity and growth, remained a small town. The news that Nicole Nelson had delivered dinner to Cal had spread faster than last winter’s flu bug. He didn’t approve, but he wasn’t about to discuss it with Cal, either. Mary could have had a gentle word with their son, and Cal wouldn’t have taken offense. But Phil wasn’t especially adroit at that kind of conversation. He knew Cal wouldn’t appreciate the advice, nor did Phil think it was necessary. His son loved Jane, and that was all there was to it. He’d never do anything to jeopardize his marriage.

“Apparently Nicole brought him dinner—supposedly to thank Cal for some help he recently gave her,” Dovie said, her face pinched with disapproval.

“If you ask me, that young woman is trying to stir up trouble,” Frank added.

“Maybe so,” Phil agreed, but he knew his oldest son almost as well as he knew himself. Cal hadn’t sought out this other woman; she was the one who’d come chasing after him. His son would handle the situation.

“No one’s suggesting they’re romantically involved,” Frank said hastily.

“They aren’t,” Phil insisted, although he wished again that Mary could speak to Cal, warn him about the perceptions of others. That sort of conversation had been her specialty.

“Do you see Nicole Nelson as a troublemaker?” Phil directed the question to Dovie.

“I don’t know…I don’t think she is, but I do wish she’d shown a bit more discretion. She’s young yet—it’s understandable.”

Phil heard the reluctance in her response and the way she eyed Frank, as though she expected him to leap in and express his opinion.

“Annie seems to like her,” Dovie said, “but with this new pregnancy, she’s spending less and less time at the bookstore. Really, I hate to say anything….”

“I tell you, the woman’s a homewrecker,” Frank announced stiffly.

“Now, Frank.” Dovie placed her hand on her husband’s knee and shook her head.

“Dovie, give me some credit. I was in law enforcement for over thirty years. I recognized that look the minute I saw her.”

Phil frowned, now starting to feel seriously worried. “You think Nicole Nelson has set her sights on Cal?”

“I do,” Frank stated firmly.

“What an unkind thing to say.” Still, Dovie was beginning to doubt her own assessment of Nicole.

“The minute I saw her, I said to Dovie, ‘That woman’s trouble.’”

“He did,” Dovie confirmed, sighing. “He certainly did.”

“Mark my words.”

“Frank, please,” she said, “You’re talking as though Cal wasn’t a happily married man. We both know he isn’t the sort to get involved with a woman like Nicole. With any woman. He’s a good husband and father.”

“Yes,” Frank agreed.

“How did you hear about her taking dinner out to Cal?” Phil asked. It worried him that this troublemaker was apparently dropping Cal’s name into every conversation, stirring up speculation. Glen was the one who’d mentioned it to Phil—casually, but Phil wasn’t fooled. This was his youngest son’s way of letting him know he sensed trouble. Phil had weighed his options and decided his advice wasn’t necessary. But it seemed that plenty of others had heard about Nicole’s little trip to the ranch. Not from Glen and not from Ellie, which meant Nicole herself had been spreading the news. She had to be incredibly naive or just plain stupid or…Phil didn’t want to think about what else would be going on in the woman’s head. He didn’t know her well enough to even guess. Whatever the reason for her actions, if Jane heard about this, there could be problems.

“Glen told Ellie,” Dovie said, “and she was the one who mentioned it to me. Not in any gossipy way, mind you, but because she’s concerned. She asked what I knew about Nicole.” Like Dovie, Ellie didn’t want to involve Annie.

“Do you think anyone will say something to Jane?”

Dovie immediately rejected that idea. “Not unless it’s Nicole Nelson herself. To do so would be cruel and malicious. I can’t think of a single person in Promise who’d purposely hurt Jane. This town loves Dr. Texas.” Dr. Texas was what Jane had been affectionately called during her first few years at the clinic.

“The person in danger of getting hurt here is Cal,” Frank said gruffly. “Man needs his head examined.”

Phil had to grin at that. Frank could be right; perhaps it was time to step in, before things got out of hand. “Mary always was better at talking to the boys,” he muttered. “But I suppose I’d better have a word with him….”

“You want me to talk to him?” Frank offered.

“Frank!” Dovie snapped.

“Someone has to warn him he’s playing with fire,” Frank blurted, and glanced at Phil, obviously expecting him to agree.

Phil shook his head. “Listen, if anyone says anything, it’ll be me.”

“You will, won’t you?” Frank pressed.

Reluctantly Phil nodded. He would, but he wasn’t sure when. Sometimes a situation righted itself without anyone needing to say a word. This just might be one of those cases.

He sincerely hoped so.

Chapter Four (#ulink_08b03236-36ee-5c84-9ebc-744d99273046)

Jane stood at the foot of her father’s hospital bed reading his medical chart. Dr. Roth had allowed her to review his notes as a professional courtesy. She frowned as she studied them, then flipped through the test results, liking what they had to say even less.

“Janey? Is it that bad?” her father asked. She’d assumed he was asleep; his question took her by surprise.

Jane quickly set the chart aside. “Sorry if I woke you,” she murmured.

He waved off her remark.

“It’s bad news, isn’t it?” he asked again. “You can tell me, Jane.”

His persistence told her how worried he was. “Hmm. It says here you’ve been making a pest of yourself,” she said, instead of answering his question.

He shook his head, but wore a sheepish grin. “How’s a man supposed to get any rest around here with people constantly waking him for one thing or another? If I’d known how much blood they were going to draw or how often, I swear I’d make them pay me.” He paused. “Do you have any idea what they charge for all this—all these X rays and CAT scans and tests?”

“Don’t worry about that, Dad. You have health insurance.” However, she knew that his real concern wasn’t the expense but the other problems that had been discovered as a result of his broken hip.

“I want to know what’s going on,” he said, growing agitated.

“Dad.” Jane pressed her hand to his shoulder.

He reached for her fingers and squeezed them hard. For a long moment he said nothing. “Cal wants you home, doesn’t he?”

She hesitated, not knowing what to say. Cal had become restive and even a bit demanding; he hadn’t hidden his disappointment when she’d told him she couldn’t return to Promise yet. Their last few conversations had been terse and had left Jane feeling impatient with her husband—and guilty for reacting that way. In retrospect, she regretted the entire conversation and suspected he did, as well.

“Your mother and I have come to rely on you far too much,” her father murmured.

“It’s all right,” Jane said, uncomfortably aware that Cal had said essentially the same thing. “I’m not only your daughter, I’m a physician. It’s only natural that you’d want me here. What’s far more important is for you and Mom not to worry.”

Her father sighed and closed his eyes. “This isn’t fair to you.”

“Dad,” she said again, more emphatically. “It’s all right, really. Cal understands.” He might not like it, but he did understand.

“How much time do I have?” he shocked her by asking next. He was looking straight at her. “No one else will tell me the truth. You’re the only one I can trust.”

Her fingers curled around his and she met his look. “There are very effective treatments—”