by Marin Thomas
“Ready, Maddie?” he asked.
“Been waiting decades for this day. Let them in. It’s cold outside.”
And it was. A cold front had blown down from the Arctic a day ago, bringing temperatures that hurt the lungs if you inhaled too deeply. That cold air crept in with the Lamberts as they filed into the Turners’ homey kitchen. Last in was Corb, who shut the door quickly behind himself. But still Jackson could feel the infusion of cold air as it swirled around the kitchen and then settled at their feet.
“Add some more wood to the fire, would you, Jackson?” Maddie, sitting in the chair at the far end of the table, smiled at her guests. “Welcome. All of you. And thanks for coming.”
B.J., Corb and Cassidy all stepped forward to give their aunt a hug, but Olive lingered near the door, only taking a seat when B.J. brought one of the chairs and placed it right there on the welcome mat.
Though she was trying to be circumspect, Jackson could see Olive studying the room, as well as her sister. A few times her lips trembled, but then she’d press them together. And regain control.
“Tea is ready,” Winnie announced. She filled delicate teacups that were completely at odds with the serviceable brown teapot.
For the first five minutes the younger generation dominated the conversation. But eventually Maddie cut through the nervous chatter.
“It’s good to see you here, Olive.”
“I don’t know why.”
“We grew up here. I remember helping you do your homework at this very table.” Maddie fingered one of the grooves in the oak. “I believe you did this when you were struggling with algebra.”
“That’s past. It’s your kitchen now. It’s been yours for a long time.”
Maddie stifled a cough. “I’m sorry for how hard things were for you growing up. Dad took Mother’s death so hard. It changed him. I don’t think he meant to be so hard on you—”
“Stop.” Olive’s voice was commanding, her eyes bright with a determined glint. “I didn’t come to hear you justify the way you ingratiated yourself with our father, even going so far as to keep me from him during his last days on earth. You said you had something for me. Something of Mother’s,” she added, her voice a touch softer.
“Yes. I found this after Dad died.” Maddie began working a ring off her baby finger. “I wanted to give it to you sooner, but—”
She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to, Jackson thought. Everyone in this room knew Olive would never have taken a call or accepted a visit from Maddie.
“This was our mother’s wedding ring.” Maddie glanced at the small diamond ring one last time before passing it to Cassidy, who was seated next to her on the right.
Cassidy studied the ring, then passed it to Corb, who handed it to his mom.
“I often wonder how different our lives would have been had she lived,” Maddie said softly.
But Olive wasn’t listening. She was holding the ring in her hand as if it was a priceless artifact. The harsh light in her eyes had softened. Even the corners of her mouth were curving upward marginally.
Maddie had worn the ring on the baby finger of her right hand, and it had taken some effort to remove, even though she’d lost quite a bit of weight lately.
Olive, however, slipped the ring easily onto her fourth finger.
It fit perfectly.
Everyone had said Olive took after her mother. Apparently they were right.
After a few seconds had passed, Olive finally addressed her sister. “Thank you. I’m very glad you decided to give me this ring rather than hand it over to Jackson, the way you’re doing with the rest of our heritage.”
“Oh, Olive.”
Maddie must have been hoping the gift of their mother’s ring would work a miracle on Olive. But clearly it hadn’t changed a thing. Before their eyes Maddie seemed to deflate. The gray circles under her eyes became more pronounced. Her cheeks sunk even deeper.
“It’s time to go.” Olive stood. She glanced at her children, expecting they would all do the same.
But they weren’t even looking at her. Their eyes were on their aunt.
“I never wanted to come between you and Dad.” The words were a quiet plea, but Olive couldn’t accept it.
“I’m sorry that you’re sick, Maddie. But we can’t change the past. B.J., are you coming or not?”
“Not, Mom.” Her eldest son passed her the car keys. “We were invited for tea. And we’re staying for tea. I’m sure Savannah won’t mind picking us up and giving us a lift home.”
Only B.J. would have the nerve to talk to his mother this way, Jackson thought. Well, Cassidy might, too. She was obviously firmly in support of her older brother. Only soft-hearted Corb was clearly torn. In the end he opted to stay, but only after walking his mom to the car and seeing her safely on her way.
Once her younger sister was gone, Maddie gave in to a coughing spell that went on for at least a minute. As usual, Jackson got her a glass of water, wishing there was something more helpful that he could do. He could see concern displayed on all the Lamberts’ faces as they sat helplessly, waiting for the fit to pass.
And eventually it did. Maddie drank her water, then sank deeper into her chair and closed her eyes. “I should have known nothing would change.”
“Why didn’t you tell Olive the truth?” Jackson asked. “You didn’t keep her from your father’s deathbed. He didn’t want her there. She blames you for that, but it isn’t fair.”
“I could never tell her that. It would only confirm what she’s always known but never been able to accept. Our father didn’t love her. It’s awful. But it’s true.”
“That is awful. But so is how Mom treated you. Especially today.” Cassidy stomped one of her feet against the planked floor. “All she wanted was that stupid ring.”
“Don’t be too quick to judge,” Maddie cautioned. “You grew up with two parents who loved you. Can you imagine what it would be like to have no mother—because she’d died giving birth to you? And to have a father who hated you for that very reason?”
Jackson figured he was closer to being able to imagine that scenario than any of the Lamberts, or Winnie. But at least he’d had his mother when he was younger.
It seemed that Olive had had no one. Except the sister she wouldn’t let herself love.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR later, Savannah drove up in her sheriff’s SUV and collected B.J., Corb and Cassidy. Maddie was sleeping in her reclining chair in the sitting room, with Bobby napping on the quilt nearby.
It had been an eventful afternoon.
Winnie rinsed another teacup, then handed it to Jackson to dry. “Lord knows,” she finally said, “I’m not a big fan of Olive’s. But I think I’m starting to feel sorry for her.”
“I know what you mean.”
“On the other hand, Laurel grew up in sort of a similar situation. Her mom died of cancer when she was a little girl and it broke her dad’s heart. He never really wanted Laurel after that, and she knew it. That’s why she spent so much time at our place.”
“You’d never guess to know her. She’s got such a great sense of humor and she’s so upbeat.” Jackson opened a cupboard and started putting away the fancy cups. On a top shelf, Winnie noticed. Who knew when they’d be used again?
When Maddie died? Oh, Lord, what a depressing thought.
“Exactly,” she said. “A person can overcome a tough childhood. But it also makes you realize how much can be lost if you hang on to old resentments and regrets.”
“Is this segueing into a lecture on my behalf?” Jackson teased.
She turned her head so he wouldn’t see her guilty flush. “We haven’t talked about Brock for a while. I’m hoping it means you’ve finally put the accident behind you. Have the nightmares stopped?”
But when it ended, Winnie pulled back to study his eyes. As usual, they were guarded.
He hadn’t actually said that the nightmares were over.
But she wouldn’t push him.
It had been a good week, she reflected. She and Bobby had spent almost every evening here at Silver Creek Ranch. And on Sunday Jackson had promised to take them out to find a couple Christmas trees. A small one for the apartment and something grander for the farmhouse.
They had two reasons for wanting to make it a special Christmas this year. One reason was Maddie. It seemed very likely that this would be her last Christmas.
Whereas for Bobby, who had been born in early January, this would be his first.
Winnie didn’t want the holiday to be just an orgy of opening presents. She hoped to instill in her son the importance of family and traditions...and helping others who were less fortunate. Which was why she wanted to take him with her next week when she delivered home-baked Christmas cookies to the Mountain View Care Home.
He might be too young to get the message now. But over the course of many years, she hoped it would sink in.
“You’re awfully thoughtful,” Jackson commented.
“I was just thinking about Christmas. I want it to be perfect this year.”
She expected him to agree. But instead he looked concerned. “Don’t set your sights too high.”
She wanted to ask him what he meant by that. But Bobby chose that moment to wake up.
“Mama?”
Not wanting him to bother Maddie, she rushed to the other room.
* * *
ON SUNDAY, WINNIE stepped out of her car into six inches of fresh snow. “Good thing I wore my boots, Bobby Boy.”
“Boots!” he echoed happily, kicking his own against his car seat as he waited for her to release him. “Snow!” he said next, when she set him down so she could grab the picnic she’d packed for their Christmas-tree-hunting expedition.
“Hey there!” Jackson emerged from the house with a down parka, hat and gloves. “Talk about a winter wonderland.”
Winnie almost said, It’s perfect, but stopped herself. It still bothered her that Jackson had warned her not to set her sights too high the other day.
As if he knew that something was going to go wrong.
Well, it wasn’t.
“Here, I’ll take this little guy.” Jackson leaned over to scoop up Bobby, who squealed with excitement. “And that.” With his other hand he snagged the insulated bag with the picnic snacks inside.
Then he kissed her, softly on the lips, then the nose.
“How did you get so cold already?”
Instead of answering, she tried to make a snowball to throw at him, but the dry fluffy crystals flew away in the breeze and he just laughed at her.
“So I’ve hitched a couple of Maddie’s horses to a sleigh I found in the back of the tractor barn.” Jackson led the way around a grove of aspen trees, with their slender white trunks and graceful bare branches, to the fenced-in pasture that surrounded the cattle barn.
Out front was the team of white draft horses, snorting in the cold. Jackson had combed out their manes and tails and tied red bows to the harness so they looked show ready.
“Wow, Jackson. They’re beautiful.”
“Aren’t they? Maddie fell in love with them and paid a pretty penny.”
“I thought she was strapped for money.”
“Yes. And it’s because of decisions like this. She thinks too much with her heart.” Jackson placed the insulated bag in the sleigh, then took Bobby to say hi to the horses and feed them each a chunk of carrot. “The former owners had a sense of humor. They named them Thelma and Louise.”
Winnie had watched the movie with her mom years ago. “You expect me to let my son ride in a sleigh with a suicidal duo like that?”
But she was already climbing into her seat, excited to get started.
Jackson settled Bobby on her lap before getting into the driver’s seat. As soon as they started moving, Bobby began clapping his hands and didn’t stop.
“Cow! Cow!” he kept insisting, pointing to the horses and smiling with glee.
“His dad must be rolling over in his grave,” Jackson said.
Winnie just laughed. She wasn’t in the mood to correct her son. He’d learn soon enough, and right now he was just so darn cute.
They returned to the ranch an hour and a half later, having found what Winnie considered to be two excellent trees, though Jackson insisted they both could be stand-ins for A Charlie Brown Christmas.
“Wait until they’re decorated,” Winnie insisted.
Jackson carried the bigger tree into the house and set it into the stand to thaw while Winnie warmed up soup and made sandwiches for lunch.
After they’d eaten, Maddie directed them up to the attic, where several boxes of old ornaments and lights were moldering. Jackson wiped off most of the dust before carrying them down the ladder, then spent the next five minutes sneezing.
Digging into the old boxes was like discovering lost treasure. Winnie found old-fashioned strands of lights, colorful glass balls and garlands for the windows.
“These are priceless!”
While Bobby and Maddie napped, Jackson helped her decorate the tree. They strung the lights first, after checking that they still worked, then added garlands.
“Now the ornaments,” Winnie said, handing one to Jackson to place at the top of the tree.
“Decorating the tree is more work than cutting it down.” Jackson’s tone was mild, though, as he made the protest.
“You’ve done this before, I take it,” Winnie said, noting how careful he was not to group similar-colored balls together.
“Olive is a stickler about her Christmas trees. They have to be perfect.”
“And when you were younger, living with your mom. Did you have Christmas trees then?”
He paused. “I don’t think so. Not that I remember.”
“But you did celebrate Christmas?”
“Most years we exchanged gifts.”
Which implied there had been years when they didn’t.
“Christmas wasn’t a big deal to us.”
“Really?” She didn’t know many little kids who didn’t love Christmas.
“Really,” Jackson insisted. “If Mom was sober, I was happy. It was all I ever wanted. I do remember one year we went to Mom’s parents for Christmas dinner. The food was good, but the tension between my grandparents and mother was awful. They were fighting before we made it to dessert. I was so glad to get out of there.”
“They weren’t nice people?”
“At the time, I was totally on my mother’s side. Now that I’m older, I get where my grandparents were coming from. They wanted Mom and me to move in with them. They wanted to pay for her to go back to school. It was all good stuff, but back then I believed my mom when she said they were just trying to control her.”
“Oh, gosh, Jackson.” She felt so lucky in comparison, but it really wasn’t fair. Why did some children have so much and others so little?
“Hey. Don’t feel sorry for me. It wasn’t that bad. At least, not until Mom hooked up with that last boyfriend of hers. But let’s stop talking about that. It’s almost dark. Why don’t we turn out the lights and see how the tree looks?”
Winnie kicked aside the last empty box and went to the switch on the wall. Just as she turned out the lights, Maddie came out of her room and gasped with pleasure.
“Oh, my. That’s lovely.”
And it really was.
; Energized by the proceedings, Maddie went to the kitchen and added some cinnamon and cloves to her homemade apple cider, heating it on the stove until the entire house smelled like Christmas.
When it was ready, Jackson poured the cider into large mugs and the three of them sat down to admire the tree. Winnie set her mug on a coffee table, then picked up her sleepy son and cuddled him close in her arms.
Maddie sighed with pleasure. “This house hasn’t been decorated for Christmas since my mother died. This brings back so many memories.... Thank you both.”
Winnie was stunned into silence by the disclosure. She glanced at Jackson and saw an equally shocked look in his eyes.
That meant Maddie hadn’t celebrated Christmas since she was a very little girl. And Olive had grown up without ever decorating a tree or hanging a stocking for Santa.
The more she learned about Olive’s past, the more sympathy she felt for the older woman. No wonder she clung to her own children with a ferocity that was almost desperate at times.
Chapter Thirteen
That evening, it started snowing again and Jackson and Maddie both tried to talk Winnie into spending the night.
“I can’t. I don’t have enough diapers for Bobby.”
“I could drive into town and buy some,” Jackson offered.
Winnie laughed. “Don’t be silly. We’ll be fine.”
Acquiescing reluctantly, Jackson helped her out to the car. It took a few minutes to figure out how to work the infernal car seat, but he eventually had Bobby buckled in.
“You should own a truck. Not that dinky car,” he told Winnie as he held the driver side door open for her.
“It’s an SUV,” she insisted of her little white Toyota RAV4.
“A baby SUV,” he insisted, “is not as good as a truck. We can’t even fit your tree in here.”
He was nervous about leaving Maddie home alone, but even more nervous about Winnie driving in what was turning out to be a blizzard. “Sure you won’t reconsider and stay the night?”
“I really can’t. Diapers aren’t an option for Bobby at this age. Trust me.”
She was laughing at him, he realized. But he was determined to get the last word. “Okay, then. I’m driving behind you to make sure you get home safely. That way I can bring your tree, too.”