I'll Be Home for Christmas

by Barbara J. Scott

  “Oh, so you predict the weather, too.”

  “I’m pretty good at guessing. We’ve already had a massive blizzard this year. That little extra nip in the air makes me want to bundle up and stay by the fire.”

  She snuggled into her jacket. “Yes, winter is here.”

  Dan wanted to keep the conversation going, but he didn’t want her to freeze to death. “Well, I guess I’m off then. I might take you up on that offer for gumbo. And a cupcake.”

  “We’ll have plenty,” she replied. “But where do you live?”

  That question turned him back to her. “In a condo in the Wentworth building.”

  “Let me guess. The penthouse?”

  “Well, it is on the top floor but it’s nothing special. Just a two-bedroom industrial type loft.”

  “Oh, I see. So you can watch over your domain?”

  He needed to set her straight. “It’s not my domain. It’s my family business. I like being close to the office.”

  “Interesting.”

  “You say that a lot. I’m not sure it’s a compliment.”

  “Well, you’re an interesting man. I think that’s a compliment.”

  He took the bold step of staring her down. “But you’re wondering why I’m delaying getting out of here. Am I stalling because I want to sweet-talk you into this deal, or am I stalling to see if there’s something real between us?”

  She stared right back without blinking. “You talk in riddles and crazy sentences. I want the truth. I’ve only known you for about five minutes, so I’m wondering about way more than anything that has to do with you, Dan Wentworth. Like how I’m gonna spend my part of that big check you keep mentioning.”

  “Oh, so you’re the one using me?”

  “And why would I be using you?”

  “To get that big check.”

  “That wouldn’t take much since you seem ready to roll.”

  “I’ve made my decision,” he said, leaning close. “But I can tell you this. No matter what this family decides, you and me, Mrs. Tucker-Brosseau, we have some unfinished business.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, and what would that be?”

  “We need to get to know each other, away from your sisters and our well-meaning friends and this place that seems to hold a lot of angst and memories for you.”

  “I never said I wanted to get to know you.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  With that, he turned to leave. But Dan knew he’d be back. Again and again. Because now he wasn’t just after this land.

  No, he’d found something even more valuable.

  A woman who could go toe-to-toe with him.

  Chapter Seven

  That looks good.”

  Amy turned from straightening the wreath made from magnolia leaves, holly berry cuttings, and evergreen branches. Dan stood looking up at the house. He’d called to say he was bringing more paperwork and pictures of comparison subdivisions he’d helped design and build. And he timed his trip with the gumbo and cupcakes she’d planned for dinner.

  That made her smile. She wanted him around, and she didn’t want him around. She hadn’t felt this way since . . . since she’d fallen in love with Tim. That memory sobered her and made her feel guilty for even looking at another man.

  “Thanks,” she said, pivoting to meet him at the bottom of the porch steps. “It’s for the sleigh we found in the barn.”

  “The decorations add that festive touch,” he added with another smile. “I can see y’all have been busy today.”

  “Being here with not much to do makes all of us get creative. Sophie is helping Jed and Jo-Jo with the horses, and David and Bella are off doing something highly romantic. Matt is probably on his way here. He can’t seem to stay away from Sophie these days.”

  “Love is in the air,” Dan said, his gaze moving over the bright, colorful lights strung across the porch railings and the roofline. “But Christmas brings out the good feelings in everyone.”

  “Even someone as ornery as me?” she asked.

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  They both burst out laughing at that.

  “From what I hear, you’ve had a lot to deal with,” he said, the big envelope he’d brought held tightly in front of him. “I meant to tell you . . . I’m sorry about your husband’s accident.”

  “It was a shock,” she admitted, able to talk about it more now than in months past. “He kissed me good-bye one morning, and then, a few hours later, I got the call.”

  “I can’t imagine going through that,” Dan said. “I had a hard time after my divorce, but losing your spouse that way must be devastating.”

  She wanted to ask him about his marriage, but she didn’t feel she knew him well enough yet. “I’m sure a divorce is just as hard in its own way,” she said, hoping she sounded sympathetic.

  Dan motioned to the chairs on the porch. “Mind if we sit a minute. I’ve been running all day long.”

  Amy figured that was a ruse to get her to sit down since she was tired from sprucing up the house. “I can take a load off. The gumbo is simmering, and the cupcakes just need icing. You timed your arrival perfectly.”

  “Is that pathetic?” he asked, his golden-brown eyes sparkling. “That I’d make sure I’m here at mealtime?”

  “No, that’s smart. A bachelor who talks about too much take-out needs a good, hot meal now and then.”

  “And you did invite me, right?”

  “Right.” But she’d hoped he wouldn’t show up. And she’d hoped he would. Maybe she was just as pathetic as he thought he was.

  “You did mean it when you said I should come on back?”

  “Of course.” She pushed back her windblown hair. “But I need to freshen up.”

  Dan stared over at her. “You have a leaf.” He reached up to swipe at her overgrown bangs. “Right there.”

  His touch confused her almost as much as the way his golden eyes held her. She stood so fast, she almost tripped. “I should get inside.”

  “I should go in with you then.”

  “Okay, if you don’t mind visiting with Sarah and Timothy while I go and get cleaned up.”

  And put on makeup and lose ten pounds and find something clean to wear.

  He followed her inside. Amy watched for signs of gloating, since he still thought they were going to sell to him. But instead of gloating, Dan looked around and nodded his head. “Nice.”

  They’d scrubbed the place down from ceiling to floor, sweeping, polishing, and even painting here and there. They’d freshened curtains and taken down mini-blinds to let the light inside. Sarah had her sisters working on it before Amy got there, but that morning they’d all made a final push to get the house in order for their big Christmas reunion.

  “One last Christmas,” she said, not even realizing she’d said it out loud. “Mama would love this.”

  Dan didn’t speak. Instead, he gazed at the Christmas tree that almost grazed the vaulted ceiling. “I’m sure she’d approve,” he said finally in a quiet tone.

  “Hey, Mr. Dan!”

  Timothy plowed into the room and immediately launched into a discussion about the horses and the stable and the hayloft and the loft upstairs that had become his domain. Before Amy could speak, he’d dragged Dan upstairs to see what he’d done with the place.

  Amy stood in the center of the great room, her brittle and battered heart softening as she heard her son’s animated chatter echoing out over the house. She and Timothy had been doing okay. But she missed Tim with an ache that felt like a deep wound, and she hadn’t realized how much her son missed his daddy. What must her little boy have felt? Just seeing how he’d taken up with Jed and the others, especially Dan, made Amy want to hug him close and tell him how sorry she was that she’d ignored his grief.

  Dear Lord, how could I have been so blind?

  She’d been so caught up in trying to survive, she’d forgotten how to live. When was the last time she’d taken Timothy to the zoo
or to the Riverwalk or to a movie? When was the last time she’d just sat and read a book with him or gone to one of his Little League games? No, she’d left those things to Amanda and Ricky while she worked and fretted and pushed her grief away.

  “Honey, are you all right?”

  Amy felt Sarah’s hand on her arm. Blinking, she nodded. “Yes, for the first time in a long time, I’m okay. It’s just that I’ve been kind of sleepwalking my way through life since—”

  “Since Tim died?”

  “Yes,” Amy answered, her throat clogged with emotions that ran so deep she wasn’t sure she could stand to bring them to the surface. “Yes.”

  Sarah nodded and kept her hand on Amy’s arm. She must have had such moments after her husband, Mr. Dewayne had died. The understanding in her eyes clarified that. “Suga’, go get a nice shower. I’ll finish up with supper.”

  Amy couldn’t speak, but when she glanced up at the loft area, she saw Dan standing there watching her. And she also saw empathy in his eyes.

  “What’s he doing back here?”

  Amy turned from the kitchen window, coffee in her hand. It was the Saturday before Christmas and several kids had shown up for their horseback-riding lessons. Sophie stood behind her, her blue eyes bright with questions.

  Amy shrugged. “Well, my very persuasive son asked Dan to give him riding lessons. And Dan agreed. I guess he’s trying hard to sweeten the pot on this deal.”

  “So he’s using your son to get to you? Maybe we need to tell him we’re all in this thing. Are you leading him on, Amy?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean about selling,” Sophie replied. “Maybe we should tell him we’re leaning toward keeping the place.”

  Amy would have disagreed on keeping the farm a few days ago. Now she didn’t know. “Right.” Then she smiled. “No, I think he genuinely loves horses. But his family’s place is north of Lexington, and he apparently works all the time so he can’t get up there to ride, so he volunteers here.”

  “He wants to ride here?”

  Hearing the sarcasm and disbelief in Sophie’s voice, Amy giggled. “He’s slumming, okay?”

  Sophie let out a derisive unladylike snort. “That man is after one of two things—this place or you. Or maybe both.”

  Amy almost spit out her coffee. “What?”

  “We’ve all noticed it,” Sophie said, her auburn ponytail bouncing as she slanted her head. “Dan looks at you in a way that’s got nothing to do with land and houses, darlin’.”

  “He’s not here for me,” Amy replied, hoping the heat radiating from her face wasn’t a blush. “I mean, if he is here for me, it’s only because he’s trying so hard to persuade me.”

  “Does he understand that the rest of us have pretty much decided to keep the place?”

  “I don’t know if he’s quite gotten that,” Amy admitted. “It’s not over until the last sister agrees.” And that sister needed some serious alone time to pray and contemplate what to do.

  Sophie, a good six inches taller than Amy, stared down at her with a defiant fire in her eyes. “You were the one who wanted to get this over with. Are you going to hold out on us now?”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Amy said. “I can’t sleep and I don’t have an appetite. Timothy is having the time of his life and . . . the other night I realized I’d been neglecting him and . . .”

  She stopped and glanced at Tuck’s old leather chair, that well of torment bubbling over again. She wouldn’t have a meltdown in front of Sophie.

  “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

  “Do you like him?”

  Sophie had always been able to see right through her. They’d shared a bedroom for most of their childhood, which meant they’d also shared all the intimate details of their adolescent angst. No, Amy couldn’t hide the truth. Not from Sophie.

  “I like him. He’s nice. He’s polite. He’s successful. And he’s giving my son free horseback-riding lessons.”

  “Any one of us could have done that,” Sophie pointed out with a soft smirk. “Even if we’re not as polite and successful as Dan Wentworth.”

  “But Timothy asked Dan,” Amy said, that admission gnawing at her. “They’ve bonded somehow.”

  “Well, Dan Wentworth has a way of bonding with people when he wants something.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “I just get that feeling is all.”

  Amy finished her coffee. “I’m walking down to the stable to watch, if that’s okay with you.”

  Sophie finally smiled. “You have my permission. You might even try flirting with him while you’re there.” Then she pressed her hands against the kitchen island. “After all, two can play at that getting-what-they-want game. You understand what I’m saying?”

  “Sophie! Are you suggesting I make that man forget all about this property and focus on me?”

  “Oh, he’s already doing that. But if you keep this up, he just might decide to join the rest of us here and make a go of this place.”

  Amy pursed her lips and shook her head. “Dan Wentworth would never do that. He’s got a life.”

  Her sister patted her on the shoulder, a knowing look in her eyes. “Then what is he doing messing in ours?”

  Chapter Eight

  Amy watched as Dan patiently showed Timothy how to mount the docile, auburn mare with the same name as her sister Sophie. Dan was amazing with kids, she had to admit. He methodically explained how to use the mounting block and how to land gently on the saddle so the horse wouldn’t startle. Then he showed Timothy how to use both legs to squeeze the horse right beneath the girth to walk forward.

  Amy’s fists knotted in fear since she remembered falling off a pony once, but Timothy did as he was told, and the horse Sophie, obviously used to these lessons, took him on a slow circular walk. It helped that Dan held her halter at times and guided the ride.

  Timothy enjoyed being able to give a low holler of “Whoa!” after Dan showed him how to stop the horse. After that, they worked on turns and trotting, with Dan right there guiding both of them, and Timothy giggling and glancing toward where she stood to make sure she’d seen every step.

  Dan answered a hundred rapid-fire questions before instructing Timothy on what to do. Each time Timothy accomplished a task, Dan praised him. He showed Timothy how to get acclimated to the horse and how to win her over by gently coaxing her. If Timothy made a mistake or misunderstood, Dan grinned and explained all over again. By the time the lesson had ended, Amy’s heart overflowed with gratitude and joy, and her feelings for Dan and this old homestead had collided into one big wind of change.

  The kind of change that scared her and enticed her all at the same time.

  “What’d you think?” Dan asked Amy after the lesson ended and the bitter chill of dusk took over. Off in the distance, the sun moved toward the horizon in a lazy, yellow-orange descent that hovered over the tree line in a shimmering half-circle.

  Before Amy could find the words to tell him the light version of her reaction to watching him with her son, Timothy rushed up and high-fived Dan and then latched onto Amy. “Did you see me, Mom? I can ride real good. Mr. Dan said so.”

  Amy didn’t even try to correct his grammar. “You sure can, honey. I’m glad you’re learning.”

  “Maybe we can ride together,” Timothy said. “You, me, and Mr. Dan.”

  Dan’s golden-brown eyes lifted to meet Amy’s gaze straight on. “I like that idea.”

  “Can we, Mom?”

  “We’ll have to see,” Amy said. “You and I have to get back to New Orleans before the New Year.”

  Timothy’s blue eyes dulled. “I like it here. I wish we could stay forever.”

  He took off toward the stable. Amy almost went after him, but Dan held her arm. “He’s a boy. Let him do some soul-searching on his own. He’ll be fine.”

  “And how do you know that?” she asked, thinking he’d never been a parent.

  “In case you have
n’t noticed, I’m also a boy.”

  “I’ve noticed,” she admitted. Then she smiled. “It’s so hard, trying to be a good parent.”

  “You are a good parent. And even if you go back to New Orleans, you’ve shown him a part of yourself. He won’t forget that.”

  “How did you get so smart?” she asked on a teasing note.

  “I was born this way,” he deadpanned with a shrug.

  Amy shook her head at that. But she thought about what it would do to Timothy if she convinced her sisters to sell the place. Which, from the looks of it, wasn’t going to happen anyway. Each time she broached the subject, they all seemed to run in the other direction. Amy figured they’d called her home only as a gesture of goodwill and to convince her to fall in line with them. Now she was caught in the middle, her head and her heart at war with each other.

  And Dan Wentworth wasn’t helping matters.

  She took one last glance toward the stable. When she heard Timothy talking to Sophie and Jo-Jo, Amy kept walking toward the house with Dan. “Thanks for helping him. When we get home, I’m going to find the nearest stable and continue his lessons. I can give him that much at least.”

  “Good idea,” Dan said. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to get away from here this weekend.”

  Amy’s heart tripped on itself, and she almost did the same with her boots. “What do you mean?”

  He actually laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna kidnap you. It’s just that there’s this thing Sunday afternoon.”

  A thing. He wanted her to go to a thing with him. “What kind of thing?”

  “A Christmas open house at my parents’ place.”

  Her heart bumped like an old wagon on a rutted dirt road. “A thing at your parents’ place. You mean the estate where you grew up?”

  His sheepish look said it all. “Yeah. They do still live there and that’s where they have the open house every year. I’m always forced to bring a plus-one, as my mom and sister like to call it.”

  Amy thought she might hyperventilate. “So you feel forced to ask me to be that plus-one?”