Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday FamilySugar Plum SeasonHer Cowboy HeroSmall-Town Fireman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Her fault.

  She’d watched him do the same thing from a distance as a teen. She’d longed from afar then, but should have learned her lesson over the years.

  For whatever reason, choice, destiny, fate or Providence, the movie-style happily-ever-after eluded her in matters of the heart.

  Serving coffee was different, Tina realized as she strode back toward the house, determined to put on a good front.

  With coffee, she knew the rules of a good brew, inside out and backward, the friendliness of being the neighborhood barista without getting too close.

  Baking? Her mother’s artistry in the kitchen bred true. Tina loved creating, finessing and developing great recipes, the kind that make people smile.

  Family?

  A chasm in her heart tore open again, a rent that should have healed long ago, as she approached the side door.

  Family eluded her. Romance crashed and burned around her. She’d thought...

  No, she’d hoped—

  It would be different with Max. She’d fallen for him hard, and that was as much his fault as hers, because he’d led her on deliberately.

  She drew a breath, blinked back tears, planted a smile on her face and walked back inside, determined. Today was Charlie’s day. A Campbell holiday, through and through.

  And she’d promised to help them through the busy holiday season, but come January?

  Brockport or Spencerport, here I come.

  * * *

  Mrs. Thurgood hurried into the hardware store late the following week. “Tina, I had to see you! I’ve just gotten the lease for the apartment under yours, and I’m so excited to be your new neighbor!”

  Tina couldn’t deflate the joy on the elderly woman’s face by saying she’d be leaving soon. Happiness shone in the widow’s eyes, her smile, the very way she walked. She gave Mrs. Thurgood a big hug, then took a step back. “Now, what about moving day? Do you need help, because there are a bunch of us who would be glad to step in. Zach and Luke both have trucks, and Seth’s SUV would hold a lot of stuff.”

  “That’s the nice thing,” the old woman explained. “The furniture is staying, and I don’t think we need a truck for my clothes. I’m not bringing the bulk of my stuff with me. I figure next summer I’ll head back to my place and go through everything, clearing things out, donating this, tossing that. It’s easier to do when the weather’s nice,” she added, as if the reason she’d let things pile up was weather-related.

  “Sounds good.” Tina patted her hand, wishing things could be different, knowing it was impossible. “And I’m happy to come help.”

  “You’re busy enough.” Mrs. Thurgood leafed through a few paint chip cards, her gaze sharp. “Mrs. Benson said I should pick out new paint for the living room. If I drop it off at the apartment, her son will paint the walls on his day off and we’re good to go.”

  “Take them out on the step,” Tina advised, pointing toward the front door. “The color is more true in natural light. But it’s cold out there, so don’t take too long to decide.”

  “I will! That’s a right good idea, Tina Marie!” Mrs. Thurgood hurried outside as Sherrie came through the back door, holding a magazine high.

  “This book is filled with great nursery ideas.”

  “Awesome.” Tina turned a fake but bright smile her way.

  Sherrie looked close, then moved in and looked closer yet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Chin down, Tina accepted a set of wrenches from a customer and ran them through the scanner. “That will be $22.47, please.”

  “Nothing?” Sherrie made a face, waited until the customer had checked out, then stepped in front of Tina. “What do you mean nothing? Of course there’s something wrong, I can always tell, that’s why you can’t possibly leave because we’ve got this, this...” She waved her hand back and forth between them. “Connection thing. And it’s not right to mess with stuff like that, Tina.”

  “We do have a thing,” Tina admitted, but then she made a face at Sherrie. “And I’m still leaving. I have to, Sher.” She drew a deep breath and lifted her shoulders. “But not for a few weeks and we’ll get the nursery done first.”

  Sherrie stared at her, then glanced around the hardware store. She paused, listened, then sighed. “Max is gone.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “When did he leave? And why?”

  “He left on Thanksgiving, and I have no idea why. End of conversation,” she warned as Mrs. Thurgood bustled back through the front door.

  “It is downright cold out there!” Mrs. Thurgood plunked the paint chips down and pointed. “Vanilla Latte Romance, right there. I think that would be lovely in a living room, don’t you, Tina?”

  Right now the word romance was enough to put Tina over the edge, so she moved to the paint mixer and pried open the can of pastel tint base.

  “Of course, it’s kind of plain, but I can spruce it up with some pictures, don’t you think?”

  “Pictures make the room,” Sherrie agreed. She looked hard at Tina, but no way was Tina about to bare her soul in front of Mrs. Thurgood, or anyone else for that matter.

  “Just one gallon, Mrs. Thurgood?”

  “That’s what the landlord said, so I’m following directions.”

  She smiled as she said the words, and when Tina walked the can of paint out to Mrs. Thurgood’s car, a middle-aged woman carrying a bag from the local deli raised her brows in approval. “Aunt Elsie, let me put this back here.” The woman took the can of paint from Tina and tucked it into the trunk. “We can drop it off at the apartment. You should be ready to move in within a week.” She turned toward Tina. “I’m Elsie’s niece, Rachel. She told me she needed to make some changes and I came to town to help her.”

  “Oh, goodie!” Mrs. Thurgood said the words with false enthusiasm, as if none of this was her doing, and yet...she had little choice but to do it.

  Tina understood that too well, and was just as annoyed by the sudden turn-around in her own life.

  Which is understandable at her age, her conscience berated. At yours? Ridiculous.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Tina stretched out a quick hand to Mrs. Thurgood’s niece. “And thanks for coming to town to help Mrs. T. She’s a favorite around here.”

  “Family’s important,” Rachel replied. She tucked the grocery sack into the trunk and helped her aunt into the front seat. “Have a nice Christmas if I don’t run into you again.”

  “You, too.” Tina said the words, but the thought of nice Christmas seemed anathema, and that emotion shamed her. She had a lot to be grateful for, she knew that.

  But she’d gotten all tied up and emotional over Max, and having him disappear from her life?

  It hurt.

  “We need a painting date.” Sherrie greeted her as she came through the door, clearly determined.

  “Right after Christmas,” Tina promised. “Everything slows down that week, even though the park lights are still going then. The store will be quieter and I can sneak away for a day.”

  “Excellent!” Sherrie hugged her and left.

  She placed a call to the Realtor once Sherrie had gone home. “Myra, it’s Tina. I think I’d like to take a ride to see those Brockport and Spencerport locations fairly soon, but I don’t think I can do it before Christmas. We’re shorthanded here at the hardware store, and—”

  “No worries!” Myra’s voice sounded like so many others, alive with Christmas cheer.

  Blech.

  “December is pretty much wasted when it comes to doing deals,” Myra explained, “so you go ahead and have a merry Christmas—”

  Tina had to hold herself back from explaining the unlikelihood of that possibility.

  “And we’ll see them in January. That way the hardware
store is quieter and I’ll have time to make the drive with you.”

  “You don’t think the locations might rent or sell by then?”

  Myra’s calm offered reassurance. “Well, they could, but it’s unlikely. And the way I see it is if it’s meant to be, it will be.”

  “Que sera, sera.”

  “I love that old movie!” Myra’s voice pitched up. “How did you hear about that at your age? It’s ancient by today’s standards.”

  “It was a favorite of my mother’s,” Tina replied. Saying the words made her remember her mother playing the classic movie, loving the suspense of the story, and the melodious tones as Doris Day sang the old lyrics. “She used it as my lullaby when I was little.”

  “I did the same thing,” declared Myra. “The babies loved it, such a sweet song. But most don’t know it now.”

  “I do.”

  “Call me after Christmas,” Myra reiterated. “We’ll plan a day in early January, unless things change between now and then.”

  “They won’t. I can guarantee that.” Tina said the words with all the finality they deserved.

  Myra laughed. “Another thing I’ve learned over the years, Tina... You wanna hear God laugh? Tell Him your plans.”

  Meaning God was in charge, first, last and always.

  Tina had a hard time with that scenario. It seemed each time she tried to let go and let God take charge, something went awry. In this instance, that something was the broken heart she’d been nursing since Max had disappeared a week ago.

  No call. No word. No email, no text.

  Nothing.

  As if Max had fallen off the map completely.

  His mother had taken it in stride. She was Jenny Campbell, a woman of faith and grace.

  Tina?

  She wanted to go a few rounds with a punching bag, and not one of those big, heavy body bags, no, sir. The light, hanging-high variety would do, and she’d pummel away at that thing until she wasn’t mad or disappointed or sad anymore.

  Ever.

  She crossed the street near the end of the day and entered The Pelican’s Nest through the kitchen door. Han brightened the moment she stepped inside. “It’s like old times again! Three nights this week make me so happy!”

  “Me, too.” She pulled out a clean apron, and began setting plates for orders. “It feels good to be in here, working with you again.”

  “It feels right because it is right.” Wisdom deepened the cook’s lined face. “It was wrong to have you gone from this place. I like this better.”

  Ryan came through the short passage leading from the dining room to the kitchen. He spotted Tina, stopped short and stared, then spun on his heel and walked out.

  Tina turned toward Han. “He hates me.”

  Han shrugged. “He doesn’t know what he feels, I think. He spent too much time listening to his father, and all he heard was how you ruined their business, ruined their lives. And you did none of this,” Han reassured her as he grated cheese over a fresh pan of lasagna. “But Rocco always needed to blame others. You were an easy target. Now, we can fix this.”

  He sounded so sure, so certain.

  But could they fix things?

  Laura came into the kitchen and gave Tina a spontaneous hug. “I’m so glad you’re here tonight. I was just going to call you and see if you could come over. We just got a reservation for a senior citizens bus tour. They’re coming to see the lights before they do some shopping in the village. Then they’re gathering here for a late supper at seven forty-five. I don’t think we could manage it without you, Tina.”

  “Then it’s good I’m here.”

  Laura moved closer. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  “Ryan is rude to Tina and makes her feel bad.” Han minced no words. “He needs to be polite to anyone who helps. All of the time.”

  “You’re right,” Laura admitted. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “That might make it worse, Aunt Laura.” Tina shifted her attention toward the door. “He’s already an angry kid. He lost his father six months ago, he’s working all the time and doesn’t appear to like it—”

  Laura acknowledged all that with a nod, but said, “That doesn’t give him the right to be mouthy and rude, Tina.”

  “But that was the example he lived with for so long.” Tina scrunched her face and shrugged. “I’m hoping that time will help heal him. That if he’s around me, he’ll see that I’m not a terrible person.”

  “This has not worked so far,” Han reminded them. “And Tina has been here many days to help. Ryan should be polite to all.”

  “I agree.” Laura turned back to Tina. “The days of our family treating each other poorly are over. And I’ll see that my son understands that, Tina.”

  The back door slammed shut, which meant Ryan had been in the doorway, listening.

  Laura’s eyes darkened with worry. “When I see the anger in him, it reminds me of his father.”

  Tina couldn’t disagree. “But he looks like my dad, Laura. And there wasn’t a kinder, more generous man than Gino Martinelli.”

  Laura acknowledged that with a look outside toward the cemetery. “I go to their graves sometimes, Tina. To apologize. To beg forgiveness. But it’s too late, of course, and they died hating me, thinking I was a terrible person.”

  “They were angry, yes, especially at first.” Tina shrugged and shook her head. “They felt betrayed because they trusted you with the restaurant, with me, and when you let me go, Dad was too sick to do anything about it. So he was sad. But mostly they thought you married the wrong person, and that Rocco wasn’t good for you. And I agree. But they never stopped loving you, Aunt Laura, and they did forgive you before they died. And the first thing my father would say if he heard you now?”

  Laura lifted her chin, wondering.

  “He’d say head over to that church and get right with God. Because He’s the only one we ever need to please.”

  Laura swallowed hard. One hand gripped the other, tight. “I haven’t gone to church in a long time.”

  “No time like the present to start.” Tina smiled at her. “If you want, I can go to the early service, then come here on Sunday and you can go to the later one. That way the restaurant is covered and we both have church time. And then I’ll work at the festival booths as scheduled.”

  “It’s a very sensible plan,” Han told Laura. “How blessed are we to have a church right across the street?”

  Laura looked from one to the other. “I’d like to try that, but not this weekend with the festival craziness on top of everything else. Maybe next weekend, okay?”

  It was a start. “Good.” Tina nodded agreeably as she grabbed two new orders off the wheel. She handed them to Han as she prepped the plates, but she couldn’t erase the anguish she’d seen in Ryan’s gaze. He wasn’t just angry, although that would be bad enough. He looked wretchedly sad, and seeing that look on her young cousin’s face broke her heart. She didn’t want her presence to deepen his sorrow, but Laura was right. Ryan needed to find some level of acceptance, and she hoped it would be soon.

  The night proved to be as busy as Laura had expected and it was late by the time they closed things up. Tina walked home, missing Max, pretending not to, and half dreading the busy Main Street Festival weekend. She’d be up well before dawn, baking in the restaurant kitchen, getting a head start on a frenetic day. No major snowstorms were expected to mess with the festival, and that was a blessing right there.

  She approached her door and sighed. She was surrounded by a Christmas village, lit up and sparkling against a thin layer of fresh, white snow, but her little apartment seemed bare.

  She’d been running back and forth between the hardware store and the restaurant, barely stopping for breath, leaving no time to make her little apartment festive
.

  Because you don’t feel festive, her conscience reminded her. You’re mad at yourself for falling for Max, you’re mad at Max for leaving and you have no real clue what you want to do with your life. Can’t we go back to the “let go and let God” idea? Because it was a good one.

  Life without a firm plan? Without a goal? Without a schedule of events?

  The very thought made her antsy.

  But then she paused with her key in the lock, turned and looked around.

  What had all her perfect planning gotten her? An estranged family and a burned-out café.

  Despite her devoted scheduling, life had turned the tables on her. Sherrie’s face came to mind. So happy, so excited about the upcoming birth of her son. But she’d sat with Sherrie for long hours after her earlier miscarriages. She’d held her hand, taken long walks and prayed for Sherrie and Jim.

  She hauled in a deep breath and scanned the old café site from her stoop.

  Life didn’t come with guarantees. Maybe, just maybe, she needed to let go more and plan less. She glanced at the clock tower, saw the time and hurried inside to catch some sleep, determined to adopt that mind-set more fully on Monday.

  After the insanely busy Main Street Festival weekend.

  Chapter Eleven

  A tiny ping against Tina’s window disturbed her sleep. She rolled over, glared at the clock, saw the middle-of-the-night hour and went back to sleep.

  Ping! Ping! Ping!

  Hail? Freezing rain? A sleet storm?

  Her brain pictured and discounted each of those possibilities as she squeezed her eyes shut and thumped the pillow into a better position. The repeated noise came again, sounding like pellets, lobbed against her window. She pried one eye open and peered at the night sky through her front window.

  Starlit with a waxing crescent moon.