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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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BOOK: 1225 Christmas Tree Lane
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“Mom, it isn't like we're six years old!”

“I know, I know, it's just that I hate leaving you so soon after you got here.”

“Go,” Bailey said, ushering her toward the door. “We'll be fine. We'll unpack our suitcases and put
It's a Wonderful Life
in the DVD player.”

“I want to watch it, too,” Beth protested. It was their favorite Christmas movie.

“Okay, we'll hold off until tonight. Now go.”

Walking out the door, Beth blew them a kiss, the same way she had every time she left for work when they were youngsters.

 

The second the door closed, Bailey turned to her sister. “Do you think Mom suspects anything?”

“I'm not sure….”

“I told you we needed to get our story straight before we saw her!”

“I didn't think she'd drill us with questions the instant we walked in the door. Just remember, this whole idea was yours,” Sophie reminded her.

“But you agreed! Dad's miserable without Mom, and
Mom needs Dad whether she's willing to admit it or not.”

“Well, she's
not
willing to admit it, not yet,” Sophie said. She rinsed out the soup pan and placed it in the dishwasher. “I never really understood why they got divorced,” she mused.

“Yeah.” Bailey was wiping off the kitchen counter. “It didn't make any sense.”

“When they told us I thought they were joking. Some joke, huh?”

“Could there be anyone else involved?” Bailey asked, growing introspective. “Mom mentioned that vet again. Ted something.”

“Ted Reynolds. She hasn't dated in ages, but she seems to like him. He could be trouble.”

Bailey frowned. “The problem with Mom is that she's living inside an…an emotional cocoon.” She nodded, pleased with that description. “She's consumed by this tree farm so she doesn't have to think about Dad or the divorce or anything else.”

“Who made you the expert?” Sophie muttered.

Bailey ignored the sarcasm. “I took this really great psychology class, and I recognized what Mom's been doing for the past few years. We've got to shake her up, make her realize the divorce was a terrible mistake.”

“It's not just the tree farm, it's those darn puppies,” Sophie lamented. “With puppies constantly showing up on Mom's porch, she can focus all her attention on them. She spends a lot of time training her dogs for those canine therapy programs—”

“And being the unofficial rescue facility,” Bailey threw in.

Sophie nodded. “And now there's this Ted guy. Getting Mom and Dad together isn't going to be as easy as you think.”

“What did you tell Dad?” Bailey asked.

Sophie slouched into a chair and stared at her sister. “Just that it's important to Mom that we all spend Christmas together.”

“Did he ask why?”

“Not really. He said he didn't have any fixed plans for Christmas, and if Mom wanted him to come he would.”

“What are we going to tell them when they discover we arranged this?”

“What we should've said when they told us they were getting divorced. This is stupid. They should've tried harder.”

“They just grew apart, that's all, but if they'd made an effort they could've gotten close again, right?”

“Right.”

“Marriage takes work,” Bailey said, feeling wise. The research for her recent psych essay on “Family in the New Millennium” had made that very clear to her.

“I just don't want them to be upset with us,” Sophie said, worried.

“They can't. It's Christmas. We brought them together…okay, under false pretenses, but they can't be mad because we're only doing what's best for them.”

“Amen. Sing it, sister.”

“We'll sing it in two-part harmony.”

“Dad gets here when?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Perfect.” Sophie held up two crossed fingers. “I believe. I believe.”

“So do I,” Bailey echoed. This was going to be the most wonderful Christmas of their lives and it didn't have a single thing to do with the wrapped packages under the tree. It was because of the gift they intended to give their parents.

And each other.

 

The snow had stopped falling, and the grounds were so pristine and lovely, they could've been on a book cover. Or a Christmas card. The evergreens were daubed with snow, giving them a flocked look that was more
beautiful than anything Beth could reproduce with the sticky artificial stuff her crew applied to the more elaborately decorated trees in the shop.

“We're back,” Bruce Peyton said as he approached Beth. “And this time, we're definitely going home with a tree.”

His pregnant wife, Rachel, looked so much better than she had two weeks ago. Beth had learned later that Rachel was hospitalized with food poisoning that same evening. Bruce's teenage daughter, Jolene, was with them today, as she'd been before.

“Are all the best trees taken?” the girl asked, her eyes wide with concern.

She had a point. The trees closer to the house had been thinned out, but there were still a number of excellent spruces and firs in the far lot. “Not to worry,” she assured Jolene. “I always save the best for last.” She handed the girl a cup of warm cocoa. “If you'd like, I'll have my foreman take you to the back twenty in the ATV and you can see for yourself.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Beth confirmed. She led them over to Jeff, made introductions and gave him Jolene's request.

The ATVs were built for two, so Jeff took one and Jolene climbed on behind him. Bruce took the second
vehicle. Rachel looked at the hard seat, then eyed the dirt road speculatively.

“I think I'll stay here and visit with Beth while you two choose the tree.”

“You can't,” Jolene said loudly. “You
have
to help pick out the tree. That's the most fun part.”

“I'm just not sure I'm up to this.”

“Let me take you for a test run,” Bruce suggested.

Rachel remained hesitant, then nodded. “Okay, but don't be upset if I decide to stay back.”

“I won't,” Bruce said.

“I really want you to come with us,” Jolene insisted.

“I know, honey. I will next year. I'll come with you and your little sister. Don't forget, it'll be her very first Christmas.”

Jolene hugged her quickly. “Okay.”

Ten minutes later, Rachel was sitting in the office, drinking a bottle of apple juice as Beth finished her paperwork.

“I doubt they'll be long,” Beth told her. “The trees there are gorgeous, especially with this afternoon's snow.”

“I hope Bruce and Jolene don't go overboard and choose the biggest tree on the farm.”

Beth chuckled. “Jeff knows that people look at a tree
and have no idea how large it is until they try to get it in the house. He'll keep them realistic.”

“Oh, good. Jolene loves Christmas.” Rachel leaned back in her chair. “I consider this our first real Christmas as a family. We were married last year but I was so busy cleaning and moving that it didn't feel very Christmassy.”

“There seem to be a lot of firsts for your family,” Beth said gently.

“I agree. It hasn't been a smooth transition for us, but everything's come together in the past couple of weeks.”

“I'm glad,” Beth said. She wasn't entirely sure what Rachel meant. Busy though she'd been, when the Peytons originally came for their tree, Beth couldn't help noticing the tension between Rachel and Jolene. The change in attitude, particularly on Jolene's part, was encouraging.

Twenty minutes later, the two ATVs roared into the yard. As soon as the engine was shut off, Jolene leaped off the back of her father's vehicle and raced toward Rachel.

“We found the most beautiful tree,” she said excitedly. “It's just
perfect.

“Where is it?” Rachel asked, laughing at Jolene's unabashed enthusiasm.

“You should've seen her,” Bruce said, joining them. “Jolene was like a rabbit, hopping from one tree to the next.”

“Dad, you're embarrassing me,” the girl protested, but not too vigorously. In fact, it looked as if a smile was permanently affixed to her face.

“Exactly where is this wonderful, perfect Christmas tree?” Rachel asked again.

“Jeff's going back in the pickup for it now,” Bruce explained. He reached into his pocket for his wallet. “While he's doing that, I'll pay for the tree and get out the rope so we can tie it to the top of the car.”

“When we take it home, we're all going to decorate it together,” Jolene said happily.

“My girls and I do that,” Beth told her. “I always decorate several trees, but I leave one undecorated so the four…three of us can do it together once they're home from college.”

Jolene looked at her father and Rachel. “Will you wait for me when I'm in college, too?”

“You bet,” Rachel said, raising one thumb.

That seemed to satisfy the teenager. “It won't be that long, you know.”

“No need to rush it,” Bruce commented.

The phone rang, and since Jeff was busy, Beth grabbed it. “Cedar Cove Tree Farm,” she said. “Beth speaking.”

“Oh, Beth, I'm so glad I caught you.”

It was her friend, Grace Harding, the head librarian who'd adopted a golden-retriever mix from the previous batch of puppies. She sounded harried.

“What can I do for you, Grace?” Beth asked.

“We need a small tree.”

“How small?”

“One that'll fit in a hotel room. It's for a family who just arrived in town. Friends of ours.”

“Sure. I can have Jeff cut one for you and deliver it myself.”

“Oh, would you? I know this is last-minute, but these are two special friends who once rented our house on Rosewood Lane. That was years ago—but Ian's in the navy and it looks like they're moving back. They have two children. They're only here for a few days, but I can't bear the thought of them spending Christmas in Cedar Cove without a tree.”

“I'm on it,” Beth said. “Don't worry, I'll see to everything, including lights and decorations. Shall I bring it to your place?”

“Yes, please. I don't know how to thank you.”

“You already have,” Beth said. Replacing the phone
she looked at Bruce. “Now, I don't suppose I could interest you in adopting a puppy?”

“A puppy?” Jolene perked right up. “Could we, Dad? Rachel?
Could
we?”

Bruce shrugged uncomfortably. “I don't think so, sweetheart. With the baby coming and everything…”

“What kind of puppy?” Rachel asked, reaching for Bruce's hand.

“They're a Labrador mix. They're all black and extremely cute. You could have the pick of the litter.”

Jolene clasped her hands and turned pleading eyes to her father.

Bruce held Rachel's gaze and after a moment nodded. “But remember, Jolene, you're responsible for training and taking care of the puppy.”

“I will, Dad, I promise. I've always wanted a dog! I want a girl and I'm going to name her Poppy.”

“Poppy's a good name,” Rachel said.

“I can help with the training,” Beth offered, leading all three of them to the laundry room. It didn't take Jolene long to choose the puppy she wanted.

One down, nine to go.

Chapter 2

Earlier in the month, Grace had been pleasantly surprised to get a phone call from Cecilia and Ian Randall, who were stationed in San Diego. They phoned again once they got into town.

“Would it be possible for Ian and me to stop by and visit?” Cecilia asked.

“Cecilia, of course! How are you? I hoped I'd get a chance to see you and Ian and the kids.” Grace had a hundred questions. The young couple had always been close to her heart, and she was thrilled at the prospect of having them back in the area.

“Remember I told you the navy transferred Ian back
to Bremerton?” Cecilia said. “He's going to be working in the shipyard instead of on the aircraft carrier. Cedar Cove feels like home to us, so we're really happy about coming back.”

“That's wonderful!” The Randalls reminded Grace of when she and her first husband, Dan, had purchased their house almost forty years ago. They'd been young, too, with a child and another on the way. Maryellen was a toddler and Grace had been pregnant with Kelly, and 204 Rosewood Lane had been their first real home. In fact, Grace had lived in that house most of her adult life. She'd raised her children there, buried her husband and learned to deal with life as a widow all on Rosewood Lane. The place held a great deal of sentimental value for her and she hadn't been able to let it go, even after marrying Cliff Harding. So she'd decided to rent it out.

The Randalls had been ideal tenants, but the navy had transferred them all too soon. Over the years, Grace had seen a number of renters come and go. Faith Beckwith had resided there for a while; she'd had a difficult time with break-ins perpetrated by the tenants preceding her. That was long past now and the culprits were behind bars, thanks to Sheriff Davis. The most recent renters had left, and the house was sitting empty.

“I think I mentioned that Ian has leave over Christ
mas. We flew out here yesterday. We came to see my dad and look for housing.” She paused. “Dad lives in a small apartment, so we're staying at the Comfort Inn.”

Grace had assumed as much, based on their previous conversation. And other than the Beldons' B and B, the Comfort Inn was the only hotel in downtown Cedar Cove.

“Do you have a car?” she asked.

“A rental.”

“Come over today if you can and we'll chat.”

“What time?”

“Two,” she suggested. “Olivia is planning to stop by around then, and I know she'd love to see you.”

“Judge Lockhart…I mean, Judge Griffin?”

“Yes.”

“I'd love to see her, too. Ian and I owe her so much.”

Indeed they did owe a debt of gratitude to Olivia, as did many others in the community. Despite her decades as an attorney and then a family court judge, Olivia had never become jaded or cynical. She looked at each case individually. Over the years she'd made some controversial judgments. In Ian and Cecilia's case, she'd denied their divorce. That decision had caused quite a stir in the courtroom and around town. She'd used a technicality,
urging the couple to try harder and not to give up on each other so soon.

As it happened, Jack Griffin, the new
Chronicle
editor, had been visiting the court that day and had written an article about her decision, which had greatly embarrassed poor Olivia. Nevertheless, his inflammatory piece had been the start of their relationship. And look where that had led! Grace couldn't hold back a smile.

“We'll be there at two,” Cecilia said.

“Be sure to bring the kids,” Grace told her. “Cliff is boarding a pony over the holidays. She's very gentle, and the owner said we can give rides to anyone we want.”

“Oh! Aaron and Mia will love it. See you at two.”

Grace finished addressing the last of her Christmas cards and walked down to the mailbox to send them off, knowing they'd be late this year. She wondered how she'd gotten so far behind.

Cliff helped her prepare by setting out a plate of cookies, although Grace suspected he ate as many as he put on the plate. The cocoa was warming on the stove when a car rolled into the driveway.

Beau, her puppy and guard dog, barked, warning them of impending visitors. “Is it the Randalls or Olivia?” Grace asked.

Cliff peered out the kitchen window. “Looks like
Olivia.” He reached for his coat. “I'll be outside with Pixie, saddling her up for the Randall kids.”

“Thanks.” Grace dried her hands and hurried to the door. Olivia immediately handed her a fruitcake wrapped in aluminum foil.

“From Mom,” she announced, stooping to pet Beau. “She baked them while she was living with Jack and me, and wanted to be sure you got one.”

Grace wasn't a fruitcake fan—except for Charlotte's, which included green tomato mincemeat and pecans. She put it on the counter next to an evergreen spray in a narrow vase.

“That's so thoughtful. How's Charlotte doing?” Grace was well aware that Charlotte and Ben's recent move into the assisted-living complex hadn't been easy.

“She has good days and bad days.” Olivia removed her gloves, stuffing them in her pocket, then slipped off her coat and draped it across the back of a kitchen chair. “On Tuesday, Mom phoned and told me she'd made a big mistake and wanted to return to the house.”

“But Will's living there now.”

“I didn't remind Mom of that. I figured out what was wrong. It's Christmas and she misses all the things that represent the holidays to her. She associates them with the house.”

“Poor Charlotte.”

“It
is
hard to make such a huge move at this point in her life.”

As Beau settled on the rug by the kitchen door, Grace poured them each a cup of coffee. She carried the mugs to the table, then pulled out a chair. “So what did you do?”

“I found the crèche she'd tucked away in the basement and brought it over to their apartment, along with a small Christmas tree and a few other decorations. Then we sat and chatted over tea for a while. After about an hour, Mom said she'd had a change of heart and the assisted-living complex would suit her just fine.”

“That's a relief.” Grace knew this had been as difficult for Will and Olivia as it was for their mother and Ben. On the whole, though, the new arrangement seemed to be working out.

“I had a call earlier today,” Grace said.

“Oh?” Olivia sipped her coffee.

“Remember I mentioned that Ian and Cecilia Randall were coming to town? In fact, Beth was by just a short while ago to drop off a tree for them.”

“So they're here?”

“Yes. Since Ian's been transferred to the Bremerton shipyard, they came to spend Christmas with Cecilia's
father, and look for a place to live. They're staying at the Comfort Inn.”

“When did they get in?”

“Yesterday. Cecilia phoned and they'll be stopping by—” She paused to glance at the kitchen clock. “Anytime now,” she finished.

“Why the Christmas tree?” Olivia asked.

“You know as well as I do that Bobby Merrick isn't going to have a Christmas tree for those kids. I explained the situation to Beth and she brought over the cutest tree you can imagine. It's in a pot and won't take up much space. They should be able to set it in a corner of the hotel room without a problem. She even threw in lights and a few ornaments.” Grace appreciated all the effort Beth had put into this spur-of-the-moment idea.

“She owes you big-time after you decided to keep Beau,” Olivia said.

On hearing his name, Beau scampered from his place by the door to Grace's feet. When she picked him up and held him in her lap, Beau licked her hand, then settled down to snooze, content to be close to his mistress.

“I'm the one who owes Beth,” Grace said, brushing her hand along Beau's soft fur. She'd resisted her affection for Beau as long as she could, but his sweet temperament had eventually won her over.

“I heard Beth has ten more puppies to find homes for now.”

“Nine,” Grace was pleased to tell her. “Beth is elated. Bruce and Rachel Peyton let Jolene have a puppy for Christmas. She's named her Poppy.”

“I hope everything's okay,” Olivia said, frowning slightly. “I don't want to see them in my courtroom.”

“The situation seems to have resolved itself. When I spoke to Rachel, she said all three of them were in counseling and making great strides.” Then Grace added, “I'll be grateful when Rachel returns to the salon. My nails are a mess without her.”

“Grace!”

“Well, it's true.”

They heard a car door slam in the distance. Beau's head came up and he leaped down from his resting place on Grace's lap. Barking, he ran to the front door, tail wagging furiously.

She followed him and opened the door to Cecilia Randall.

“Merry Christmas,” Cecilia said, giving her a bright red poinsettia.

Cecilia didn't seem to have changed since the last time Grace had seen her. True, her dark hair was shorter now, stylishly cut, but she was as slim and elegant as ever.

Cecilia broke into a big grin. “You look exactly the same as I remember.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Grace set the plant on a small table near the entry. As she closed the door she glanced over at the barn. Ian and the two children were already talking to Cliff, who'd led the pony into the yard. Cliff had Pixie saddled and was introducing her to the children. Grace would serve them cookies and hot chocolate later when they came in. “Olivia's here.”

“Oh, good! I was hoping for a chance to see her.” As Cecilia moved into the kitchen, Grace hung up her scarf and wool coat.

“Hello, hello,” Olivia said. Standing, the two women exchanged hugs.

“Sit, please,” Grace said. She took out another mug and filled it with coffee.

There was a lot of laughter and smiling as they caught up with one another, but then Cecilia grew serious. She turned toward Olivia. “I was out to see Allison this morning.” She bowed her head slightly. “Do…do you ever visit your son's grave?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” Olivia admitted softly. “On Jordan's birthday, Justine and I put flowers by his headstone.”

“Ian and I went this morning and cleaned off her grave. The kids brought her a poinsettia.”

“It's still difficult, isn't it?” Olivia said, reaching across the table to squeeze Cecilia's hand.

Grace leaned over to grab a tissue and passed it to the young woman.

“Do you still cry?” Cecilia asked, unmistakable pain in her voice. The loss of her infant daughter was an anguish that might fade but would never disappear. Grace knew that from her own experience, losing Dan.

“Yes,” Olivia said. “We don't forget our children. Ever. We can't. There's been a gaping hole in my heart—in my life—ever since we lost Jordan. He was only thirteen….” She cleared her throat. “I've chosen to fill that hole with love.”

“I have, too,” Cecilia whispered. “Love for Ian and our other children. Both Aaron and Mia know they had an older sister. On Allison's birthday last year, Aaron wanted to bake her a cake.”

“Did you?”

Cecilia nodded. “It never felt right to leave Allison when Ian was transferred. I'm so glad we're moving back.”

“We're glad, too,” Grace told her. Then because she
was afraid they'd all end up weeping, she changed the subject. “So, you're looking for a house….”

“Oh, yes.” Cecilia wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened. “Ian and I want to talk to you about the house on Rosewood Lane.”

Grace smiled happily. “Well, as I said, my last renters left when their lease expired, and the house is empty. Cliff and I would be delighted to rent it to you.”

Olivia checked her watch. “Sorry to rush off, but Justine needs me to baby-sit this afternoon.”

“Of course.” Grace stood, too, and hugged her friend. “If I don't see Charlotte, make sure you thank her for the fruitcake.”

“Will do.”

“See you Christmas Eve at Noelle's birthday party, right after church.” She briefly explained, for Cecilia's benefit, who Noelle was and that she'd been born here at the ranch a year earlier.

“Yes, see you then,” Olivia confirmed. She put on her coat and gloves and wished Cecilia a merry Christmas. Grace walked her out, returning to find Cecilia by the back door, looking at her children, who were taking turns on the pony. “About the house,” Cecilia began, moving back to the kitchen table. “Ian and I—”

A polite knock sounded at the door, but before Grace
could reach it, Ian Randall came inside. “Hello, Grace,” he said warmly. “Cliff said I should go on in. He's taking the kids into the barn to feed the horses.” Giving an obligatory bark, Beau trotted over to him and Ian crouched down to stroke the sleek, soft head.

“They're going to love that,” Cecilia said. “Aaron is such an animal person.” She might as well have said,
And so is Ian.

“Would he like a puppy for Christmas?” Grace rushed to ask, knowing how desperate Beth was to find good homes.

“He'd love one,” Cecilia replied, “but with the move, a puppy—”

“He can pick one out. They're at a tree farm owned by Beth Morehouse, a friend of ours. If you get a puppy, Cliff and I can keep him here with Beau until you're back in Cedar Cove.”

Cecilia and Ian exchanged a glance. “That's too much to ask.”

“Not at all. And it would be a huge help to Beth. Someone abandoned ten puppies on her porch and she needs good homes for them before Christmas.”

“Aaron's responsible, and he'd love it,” Cecilia prompted. “Besides, we'd be rescuing a puppy. What
do you think?” She looked at her husband, obviously attracted to the idea.

Ian shrugged. “A puppy for Aaron would be a great gift…if you're positive you don't mind keeping him for a few weeks.”

“We wouldn't mind in the least,” Grace assured him.

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