A Home for Christmas (11 page)

“I'll get you an order of stew, sir,” Blake offered and disappeared.

Janice tugged at her uncle's hand. “Please sit. I'm getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.” She slid over to make room.

He shrugged out of a heavy canvas jacket with wide pockets. He must have come straight from his cabin.

“You can tell me, now, Janice. Was that young man bothering you?”

“No.”

“He seemed overly familiar to be a passing acquaintance.”

“Well, we had dinner last night.”

“You were here in town? Tell me you didn't drive back to Knoxville alone when you could have stayed with me.”

“I had an emergency at the hospital.”

Her uncle clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Ferguson should have driven you. Ill-mannered chit. I could have driven you, for that matter.”

“Blake offered, but I insisted on going alone. It never occurred to me to bother you with such a thing. I'm not helpless, you know. I've done quite nicely on my own for some time.”

“Yes, well, there's no need for that now.” He patted her hand. “You have family to take care of you.”

The soft look of love in her uncle's rich brown eyes melted her heart. Janice squeezed his hand. “That's very sweet, but I don't need taking care of.”

“That's not what Estelee said.”

“Miss Estelee?” What could the woman know about her? They'd only met a few minutes ago.

“She knows these things.”

Not her uncle, too. Janice opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

“Here's your stew, sir. I apologize for my earlier behavior.”

“Think nothing of it, son. Janice explained. Sit. Sit.”

“I really should be going. Janice?”

She looked up into his amazing eyes and tried to keep from turning into a puddle. “Yes?”

Her uncle looked from her to Blake and back again.

“That wallpaper I told you about came in today. I'd like to show it to you. Maybe tomorrow?” A hopeful expression settled over his handsome face.

“Yes. I'd like that very much.”

“Good. I'll call you, then. Nice to see you, sir. Janice.”

She watched Blake walk away. He had a great walk. Confident, easy, sexy . . . .

“
Harrumph.
Look at wallpaper. Well, that's got to be about the oldest line in the book.”

“He's just interested in my knowledge of the house, Uncle. He wants it to look the way it did when my grandparents owned it. He even had some of the old wallpaper reproduced.”

“Really? He never asked me anything about the house, and I'd know better than most. Why, he bought the place from me!”

Janice frowned. “You bought it?”

“Well course I did. I couldn't let some stranger come in and do who knows what to it. I grew up in that house.”

Her eyes widened. “You did?”

“Sure. Your great-grandparents—my parents—built it.”

“But you sold it to Blake.”

“That boy's a first-rate carpenter. I knew he'd take good care of it. Besides, it had stood empty long enough. But you're gettin' me off the subject. We were talkin' about Blake Ferguson and his ploys to get you over to his house. The point I was tryin' to make was if you think his interest in you is purely for your knowledge of the house, your powers of observation are singularly lacking. That's a poor quality in a doctor, young lady.” He shook his head, clearly disappointed.

She bit her lip against the smile that threatened to form. Blake was interested in her, and someone else had noticed. For some reason, that pleased her immensely.

After leaving the diner
, Blake went straight to the hardware store and made arrangements to have his wallpaper delivered that afternoon. If he worked on it tonight, he could probably get most of the room papered by tomorrow. He also picked up some putty to repair the hole in the wall near the door. He didn't want to have to explain that. To anyone. He hadn't lost control like that in years.

He still couldn't believe she was here. After laying it all on the line last night, he figured she'd run in the opposite direction, but she was here.

“Hey, big brother. What's put that smile on your face?”

Blake closed his eyes and sighed. Leave it to Cory to ruin an otherwise perfect day with his presence. He turned and faced him. “Been grocery shopping?”

“Yeah. Bebe ran out of crackers and ginger ale, and the delivery boy had already left on his last rounds.”

Terrible he should have to come down to town and associate with the little people.

“You didn't answer my question. What are you so happy about?”

Janice and her uncle chose that moment to exit the diner. She saw him and gave a wave. Both he and Cory smiled and waved back.

“So, the good doctor is back in town. No wonder you're smiling.”

He gave her a look that made Blake's blood pressure climb. He shoved his brother's shoulder. “Get your eyes back in your head.”

“What? Just enjoyin' the view.” Cory turned his attention back to Janice. “
Mmm, mmm, mmm . . .
That's about the hottest thing we've ever seen in this sleepy little town. Yeah, kinda makes you wanna come down with something just so she'll have to give you a thorough examination. Stripping down in front of her would be no hardship at all.”

Rage roiled up inside Blake. He crushed Cory's designer jacket in his fist and shoved him up against the brick wall behind him. He'd like the satisfaction of smashing his fist into his perfect nose.

Self-talk. Breathe.

Not working.

“You make me sick. You've got a pregnant wife at home and you're standing here on the street ogling women.”

Cory pushed against Blake's chest, and he released him. “I'm married, not dead. And I don't know if you've noticed or not, but that's not just any woman. I'd wager I wasn't the only man in town today thinking the same thing. Young, old, married, single. When a woman like that walks by, men notice.”

Blake shot a hand through his hair.

“Oh, give it up, Blake. You could never be with a woman like that. You're not man enough. She'd never be satisfied with someone like you.” He snorted. “You were more of a man before you let Mom and Dad send you away. Now, you're just a pathetic pansy.”

Self-talk. Breathe. Walk away.

“That's it. Scurry off to that big empty house of yours and lock yourself in it. Wouldn't want that nasty temper to get the better of you.”

Blake turned and took two steps back toward his brother, but stopped. “You should be glad that I learned some restraint, Cory, or you'd be needing more than the services
this
town's doctor could offer.”

“Oh,” he held out a steady hand, “I'm so scared.”

“What's goin' on out here, boys?” Dixie stepped between them, giving both an even look.

Cory did what he always did. Turned on the charm. He put an arm around Dixie and kissed her cheek. “Nothing, Sis. Man, you get prettier by the minute. I can't understand why some good lookin' guy hasn't snapped you up.”

Dixie actually blushed and swatted at his chest. “You're a silver-tongued devil, Cory Ferguson.”

Cory looked over at Blake and winked. Blake clinched his fist and took a step forward.

Dixie stopped him with a hand at as chest and a frown. “What's got your dander up, Blake?”

“Yeah, Blake,” Cory chimed in. “What's up?”

He pointed a finger at him and leaned across his sister. “If you don't get out of here right now, I swear I'm going to plaster you to that brick wall.”

“Blake!” Dixie protested.

“It's all good, Sis. You know it's just empty threats. He doesn't have it in him any more.”

Blake took another step forward and Dixie put her back into his chest. “Maybe you better get on home, Cory. I don't think he's jokin'.”

“Yeah. Gotta get back to the puking wife. Joy.” He moved to step around them, but turned back and said, “Hey, maybe that new lady doctor could give her something for it. Women know about these things.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe I'll ask her over.”

Blake nearly mowed his sister down, then. He had to give her credit. She blocked him like a pro linebacker.

“Cory Ferguson. You get yourself home right now,” she snapped.

Cory just laughed and strolled down the sidewalk toward home while Dixie did her best to keep Blake from following. When Cory had turned the corner and was out of sight, Blake slumped against the wall.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?”

He pulled in several long, deep breaths, desperately trying to regain control. When he was able, he said, “That slime bag was drooling—”

“Watch it, now. That is our brother you're referring to.”

“I can't help that.”

“Help what?”

“That he's my brother.”

“Blake Ferguson—”

He held up a hand. “Don't start in on me, Dix. I'm in no mood.”

“I can see that. What's got you so riled?”

“Nothin',” he lied. “I gotta get goin'.” He turned and started toward home.

“Okay. I'll stop by later and check on you.”

He gave a wave, but didn't look back. Why had he allowed himself to lose control like that? His brother had just been goading him, and he'd let him. He hadn't lost control like this in years. Now it had happened twice in two days. What the hell was the matter with him? He knew he couldn't give into anger that way. Not with a temper like his. He wouldn't allow his worthless brother to erase what he'd worked years to achieve, not now. He had wallpaper to hang. And a possible relationship to consider.

But first, maybe he'd make a detour to his workshop. Yeah. Hammering out his frustrations on that china cabinet Pastor Strong had ordered for his wife's Christmas present was just what he needed.

Chapter 7

Janice woke early. After years of getting up in the pre-dawn hours to complete rounds before going into the office, sleeping-in apparently would take some time. Earlier, she'd heard her uncle moving about. He must have decided to let her rest, because she also heard a door open and close downstairs, then a car started and moved away from the house.

Janice gave up and headed for the shower. Downstairs in the kitchen, she smiled when she saw that her uncle had left the coffeepot on with a plate of muffins beside it. A note read,
Back about one. Make yourself at home.

Enticed by the sun, she stepped out onto the sun porch. Windows all the way around let in the warmth while keeping out the cold. Still, she wrapped up in a blanket she found on the back of a chair and sank into a wicker chaise lounge filled with soft, overstuffed cushions.

Sipping her coffee, she enjoyed the view of a frost-covered lawn until some sound at the door interrupted the peacefulness of the moment.

She frowned. There it was again. Faint, but definitely a distressed sound. She hurried to the door. The blast of cold took her breath, then frosted it as she blew it out. She looked down along the side of the house. Nothing. Then she heard it again, this time clearer. A pitiful meow. She looked down into the upturned face of the tiniest kitten she'd ever seen. Huge blue eyes dominated the tiny face. It looked like a little ball of soft, gray fuzz.

“Well, hello.” She bent and held out her hand to let the kitten get her scent. The cat didn't move. It shook as if it were freezing. It didn't protest when she scooped it into her hand. “Come inside where it's warm, little one.”

She stroked its tiny back. The kitty meowed its pleasure. Janice closed the door and walked into the warmth of the kitchen. “Are you hungry?
Hmm
? I bet you are. Where's your mommy?”

The little kitten just stared up at her with huge ice blue eyes. Janice had never had a kitten, or a pet of any kind for that matter. For one thing, she'd never been home. For another thing, her mother would never have allowed a pet in her pristine house. She couldn't even stand to have Janice around.

Setting the kitten on the counter, she searched the cabinets, moving several cans around until she found what she was looking for. “Here we go. Tuna. Yum.” She popped the can open and set it in front of the kitten. It sniffed the fish, then looked up at Janice as if to say,
What am I supposed to do with this?

Janice frowned. Maybe she was too young to eat solid food. “Would you like a little milk, instead?” She pulled a glass bottle from the refrigerator and poured a bit into a saucer. Fifteen seconds in the microwave warmed it to tepid. Janice tested it and licked her finger. Perfect.

“Here you go. Eat up.”

The cat tasted the milk experimentally with the tip of its pink tongue. Satisfied, it went after the treat with gusto. Janice laughed as it buried its face in the saucer. Even put its front paws in it. When the kitten had had its fill, it looked up at Janice and meowed its thanks. Milk dripped from its whiskers and chin. Janice picked up the kitten and dried it off with a kitchen towel. “There now. That's better.” After a quick check, she found it was a female.

The two sat at the kitchen table. While Janice stroked her fur, the kitty curled up in the crook of her arm and fell asleep. “Where did you come from?” She wondered if her mother were nearby? If she'd just wandered off and couldn't find her way back? And what if she didn't have a home? What if she was a stray?

What would her uncle think? She couldn't saddle him with a kitten after she went back to the city. Taking it with her wasn't an option. Her condo association didn't allow pets.

Her thoughts wandered to Blake. He'd said he was in desperate need of a cat. It was the perfect solution. Maybe he could look after her until they found her home. If she didn't have one, maybe he could keep her.

That was it. She'd take the cat to Blake and get her settled in before she got attached to Janice.

No time like the present. Janice bundled into her hat and coat, settled the kitten in her pocket, then wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on gloves. Outside, she headed down the walk, and turned onto the brick sidewalk toward Blake's house.

 “What did I do
to rate this?”

Blake greeted his sister at the back door just as he was zipping his jeans and slipping his arms into a plaid shirt. Seeing who it was, he didn't bother buttoning it.