A Home for Christmas (27 page)

“Of course not! How could you think I would?”

“I don't know. I guess I'm not sure of anything anymore.” Her sadness weighted the words into silence.

He leaned forward and braced his arms on his desk. “Well, I'm sure of one thing. Running away solves nothing.”

“What else could I do?”

“Stay here with me, as you promised.”

She sighed, sounding like all the spirit had been drained right out of her. That wouldn't do.

He cleared his throat. “I have something to say to you, Janice, and I'm afraid it won't be easy for you to hear.”

He paused. When she kept silent, he continued. “I know your parents did not set a good example, but I expected more from you. Running away from family at the first sign of difficulty is something your parents would do. I had convinced myself you were nothing like them, but you've proven me wrong.”

“That's unfair, Uncle.”

“Is it?” From the tone of her voice, he guessed that had gotten her hackles up. Good. “You promised you'd go to Christmas Eve services with me tonight.”

“You have Miss Estelee.”

“She insists on going to services alone on Christmas Eve. Always has. I had hoped this year would be different with you here, but once again, I will be there by myself wishing I had family with me.”

“Oh, Uncle Charles,” she pleaded, “I can't face the people in Angel Ridge knowing what they must think of me.”

“Poppycock! You mean you can't face Blake. He hurt you, Janice. Look him in the eye and tell him as much, then get on with your life.”

“It isn't that simple.”

“Of course it is. If you go to the airport now, you can make it to midnight services. Turkey's in the oven for brunch afterward.”

“Uncle—”

“Come home for Christmas, Janice. This is where you belong. Come home.”

After hanging up the phone, he whispered a prayer to the wind. He'd have to leave the rest up to Miss Estelee's angels.

“Are you plannin' to
sit around this monstrosity of a house and sulk indefinitely? I don't know who looks more miserable. You or that poor kitten.”

Blake gave his sister a look. She'd been over every day for the past week, bringing food, checking up on him. She was like a mother hen. He wished she'd just go away and leave him alone, but he didn't say it. He was in deep enough with his family without digging in deeper.

“They're saying we might have a white Christmas.”

Blake still didn't speak. He stared into the empty hearth while absently stroking Angel's fur. Unfortunately, Dixie didn't need a partner to carry on a conversation.

“You are coming to Mother's and Daddy's before midnight church services tonight, aren't you? Everyone's expecting you.”

“No one would care if I didn't show.”

“Mother would care, and I will care if you disappoint her.”

“I'll make an appearance,” he conceded, “but don't expect me to stay the whole time.”

“What's the big deal? You and Cory made up, right?”

Blake shrugged. “I didn't deserve his forgiveness.”

“Yeah, well, I could almost agree with you, but after all he put you through in the years previous, he had it coming.”

Blake shook his head, still not believing that all those years Cory had acted the way he had because he was jealous of him. Jealous because he was tall and Cory was short, Blake could build things and he couldn't. He'd always felt inadequate presenting their parents with homemade gifts. By the same token, Cory had hated that the things he gave them were store-bought and soon forgotten.

“You went a little overboard with all the damage you inflicted,” Dixie continued, “but what's done is done. Still, you did the right thing, apologizing. But I digress. Before you come over, be sure to shave that scruff off your face and put on fresh clothes.” She leaned forward, sniffed, and made a face. “Smells like you haven't been out of those in a few days.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. It's cold in here. Why don't you light a fire?”

He hadn't lit a fire since Janice left. It brought back too many memories of the nights they'd shared in front of the fireplace.

“Fine. I'll do it.”

Blake grabbed Dixie's arm before she could get up from the couch.

“If I wanted a fire, I'd light one,” he said in even, measured tones.

“Sheez. You are like a bear with a thorn in his paw. Reminds of when Cole Craig messed things up with Josie Allen. Fortunately, I am not easily dissuaded from my purpose, and my purpose is to make sure that you don't throw your chance for happily ever after in the garbage.”

“There's no such thing as happily ever after. My long list of failed relationships is proof.”

“Okay. That's it.” Dixie stood so she could tower over him, then lean down to poke his shoulder as she made each point. “You will quit wallowing in self-pity this instant. I'm here to see that you go to her, tell her you're sixty kinds of an idiot, and beg her forgiveness.”

Blake moved out of the line of fire. Cuddling the frightened kitten against his chest, he rubbed his injured shoulder. “In case you haven't noticed, she's gone. She won't be coming back.”

“Get real. She has to come back. She may not come back to Angel Ridge, but she most certainly will return to her medical practice in the city. Instead of sitting around here feeling sorry yourself, you'd be better served coming up with a plan for sweeping her off her feet when she gets back.”

“How am I supposed to know when that'll be?”

Dixie raised her eyes heavenward. “Men. How would you survive without the help of females? Call her office and make an appointment.”

“I don't need to see a doctor, Dix.”

She threw up her hands. “Oh, dear Lord.” She leaned in close, made eye contact, and spoke slowly. “You won't be going to the appointment. You'll simply
make
the appointment in order to ascertain
when
she will be back in town.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. Say she does come back. How am I supposed to get her to talk to me?”

“That's your problem.” Dixie grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

Blake followed. “Dix!”

“Gotta fly. I'm catering the Allen-Craig wedding tonight. Things to do,
et cetera, et cetera.
Be at Mother's around nine. Or better yet, be at First Baptist around eight-thirty to help me carry out boxes.”

And with that she was gone.

He'd forgotten about Josie and Cole's wedding. He and Cole were old friends as well as colleagues. He should be there, but the thought of watching Josie and Cole begin their lives together made him even more miserable.

He returned to his spot on the sofa, again facing the cold hearth. Angel curled up in his lap.

Meow.

She stared up at him. Dixie was right. She looked miserable, too.

“I know you miss her.” Blake stroked the fur beneath the kitten's chin. She settled down and fell asleep. “I miss her, too,” he whispered.

Christmas Eve. He pulled the jewelry box out of his shirt pocket and opened it to reveal a diamond engagement ring. The one he'd planned to give Janice tonight.

He leaned his head back against the couch. He'd made such a mess of things. His deep-seated jealousy had superseded his better judgment and cost him the only woman he'd ever loved.

He looked up at the Christmas tree, the one he'd brought down from the tall pines the day before he'd met Janice. He remembered again what people said about the trees from up there. That they were magical, and if you topped them with an angel, any wish you made on the trees would come true. He'd told Janice about the legend when they'd placed her tree in her room. He'd heard it all his life, but had never given it much credence.

It would take a miracle to win Janice back. Dixie was right; he had to take action. He set Angel aside and walked over to stand before the tree, closed his eyes, and for the first time in his life, made a wish.

“Please,” he whispered, “bring her home to me.”

A sharp wind rattled the windows and shook the tree so that the ornaments and bells on it jangled. Blake opened his eyes. He smiled. Miss Estelee would say it was
them angels a workin' their magic
. The agitated cat was weaving around his feet. She gazed up at him with an expectant look in her eyes. Could tonight be the night he'd finally claim his very own Christmas miracle? For some reason, suddenly, anything seemed possible.

He wasn't wasting any more time sitting in his house alone, waiting for it to come to him. He took the stairs two at a time, Janice's engagement ring clutched in his hand.

Janice drove by the
church at twenty minutes to midnight. There were no spaces in the parking lot, so she continued down Main Street looking for a vacant space. After she'd parked the car, she watched families file by as they walked together to church.

Janice continued to watch people pass, but she didn't get out of her car. All she could think was that she'd never had a family to attend Christmas Eve services with at midnight, but now she did. Her uncle would be waiting inside the church, probably saving her a seat. Still she couldn't get out of the car. Worry, fear and hurt kept her stationary.

What would people think when they saw her come in? What would they whisper behind their hands as she walked by? Would Blake be there with his family? Could she endure seeing him again, or would the hurt come along with the tears, forcing her to leave and embarrass herself further in front of the town she'd grown to love?

Janice gripped the wheel and rested her forehead against her hands. She didn't want to disappoint her uncle, but she didn't think she could go through with this. She wasn't ready to face Blake and the town again. The hurt was too fresh. Just the thought of their last encounter brought tears stinging her eyes. As much as she'd cried in the past week, she would have thought there'd be a point when they would simply dry up. Sniffing, she pulled a couple of tissues from her purse.

She jumped when she heard a tapping at her window. An elderly lady in a red velvet dress, with matching coat and hat, stood outside the car. After she'd rolled down the window, the lady bent and peered in at her. Janice recognized the woman now. It was Miss Estelee.

“Well, bless me. I knew you'd come.” She tapped her cane on the cobbled street and cackled. “Yes, indeedy. Them angels is a dancin' around this town tonight, havin' a high old time.”

“Merry Christmas, Miss Estelee.”

“Yes, yes. Don't just sit there. Step out and let me have a look at you.”

“Oh, I wouldn't want to make you late for the services.”

“Here, now. Don't you know it's impolite to argue with an old lady?”

Janice reluctantly did as Miss Estelee requested.

“Oh, look at you.” Miss Estelee made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Your pretty eyes are all red.” She gently tapped Janice's cheek with bent fingers encased in white gloves. “Poor dear, don't you know it's Christmas Eve?”

Janice frowned, unable to follow what Miss Estelee was saying. She pressed a tissue to her nose. Of course she knew it was Christmas Eve. It was why she'd just spent eight hours on planes and in airports trying to get back to her uncle.

“Miracles happen in Angel Ridge on Christmas Eve. Why, here comes one now.”

Miss Estelee nodded at a group of people approaching. Janice turned to see Patrick and Susan Houston walking down the sidewalk with Abby and little Sammy in tow.

“Doc Prescott, Doc Prescott!”

Sammy, who insisted on calling her by her uncle's name, came running up and flung his arms around her legs.

“Well, my goodness,” Janice said as she smoothed his unruly red curls.

“Looky, looky. My Mommy is feelin' better.”

“I see that. I'm so glad.”

“I come to the Doc's to bring you a card I made, but he told me you wasn't there.” He looked up at her with huge, serious eyes.

She stooped and grasped his hands. “You made me a card?”

He nodded. “To thank you for makin' me and my Mommy feel better.”

There were the tears again. She swallowed hard. “I'm sorry I didn't get to see it.”

“That's okay. I left it with the other doc. He told me he'd make sure you got it.”

Susan and Patrick both said, “Merry Christmas, Doc,” then told their son, “Let's go, Sammy. We don't want to be late.”

Sammy hugged Janice again, and then ran to catch up with his family. Tears misted Janice's eyes again. The wish she'd made on the Christmas tree she and Blake had gotten from the tall pines and placed in her room had come true. She'd wished Susan would be able to celebrate another Christmas with her family.

“It's not too late for you to claim a Christmas Eve miracle for your own, but if you want the true love miracle, you'd better hurry. It's nearly midnight.”

“Oh, Miss Estelee. True love's not for me.”

“Time will tell.” She tapped the watch she wore on a chain around her neck and then stepped back up on the sidewalk as she continued on her way to the church.

Janice stood alone in the street, now, with a clear view of the angel monument in Town Square. A tall, dark-haired man stood there looking back at her . . . Blake.

Janice sucked in a ragged breath. He looked devastatingly handsome bathed in the weak light of the old-fashioned street lamps. Dressed in dark pants, a dark turtleneck sweater, and his black leather blazer, the only color came from a red scarf hanging down the front of the jacket. A soft breeze blew that lock of hair across his forehead. He didn't bother to push it back into place.

Their gazes locked and something told her to go to him. Her feet began to move as if they had a mind of their own. The closer she got, the stronger her determination became. Her uncle was right. He had hurt her. She should tell him as much and get on with her life. She couldn't continue in this horrible melancholy that had pressed in on her the past week. She had a life to return to. People who depended on her. A medical practice that needed her focus.

When she stood only a few feet away from him, her resolve nearly crumbled. He reached out and touched her cheek, but quickly pulled his hand back. “I'm sorry. I wasn't sure if you were real. I can't believe you're here.”