His Christmas Sweetheart

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His Christmas Sweetheart Page 19

by Cathy McDavid


  Will let her drag him along like a child and deposit him on the couch.

  “She was crying when she left,” Arthur said.

  “What?” Will’s head snapped up. He’d thought he was alone.

  “The poor girl hates closing Harmony House and moving.” The elderly gentleman, as always, sat in a chair beside Babs, holding her hand. She looked on the verge of tears herself.

  “She’s not the only one.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Arthur asked.

  “Stand by her.”

  “We were hoping you’d stop her.”

  “I offered to move in here. She turned me down.”

  “Did you make the offer on bended knee?”

  “Uh...no.”

  Arthur harrumphed. “Youngsters. They have no clue.”

  Before Will could explain himself, Nell returned with the water. He drained the glass. It steadied his nerves.

  “How’s Mrs. Litey?”

  The caregiver shook her head. “Miserable. She doesn’t want to leave, either. Himey’s been in his room all day, moping. This has been the worst Christmas ever.” She glanced at Arthur and Babs, a smile spreading across her face. “Well, not the worst.”

  Arthur ginned like a schoolboy and kissed the back of Babs’s hand. “We’re getting married.”

  Will blinked. “You are?”

  “My daughter and son-in-law agreed to let Babs live with us. I told them I wouldn’t dream of it without making an honest woman of her first.” He kissed Babs’s hand again. “She’s accepted and made me the happiest man alive.”

  “Congratulations,” Will stammered. He wasn’t much of a romantic, but there was something incredibly touching about the older couple.

  Nell sniffed. “You better invite me to the wedding.”

  “Of course!” Babs glowed. “Everyone at Harmony House is invited.”

  “It’s going to be hard on my family,” Arthur conceded. “They don’t have much room in their house. And, let’s be honest, one crotchety old person is one crotchety old person too many.” He gazed lovingly at Babs. “Not that you have a crotchety bone in your body, my dear.”

  “Oh, Arthur.” She planted an affectionate kiss on his mouth.

  “It’s too bad things aren’t different,” he said. “If Mrs. Litey wasn’t leaving, I’d move in here with Babs. Then there’d be four of us for Nell to boss around and no reason for Miranda to lease the house.”

  “I’m not bossy.” Nell’s eyes twinkled even as she voiced a loud protest.

  Will kept hearing what Arthur had said.

  If Mrs. Litey wasn’t leaving, I’d move in here with Babs.

  If Mrs. Litey wasn’t leaving.

  He stood and started down the hall.

  “Where are you going?” Nell hollered.

  “Be right back.”

  As usual, Mrs. Litey was sitting in her chair. She glanced up in surprise as he entered her bedroom.

  “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Litey.”

  “How nice to see you, Will.”

  Will. Not Joseph. He almost missed her thinking he was her son. In a way he’d lost his grandmother all over again.

  Taking the empty chair adjacent to hers, he said, “I have a favor to ask you.”

  “What’s that?”

  Not all Mrs. Litey’s days were good ones. Lucky for Will, today was. “I need your brother’s address.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you want to move to Carson City with him?”

  “Heavens, no! I love Sweetheart. It’s my home. I grew up here. Married my husband in the Yeungs’ wedding chapel. Buried him in the Hilltop Cemetery.” Her eyes grew moist. “What if I never get to visit him again?”

  “I think I can help you. Help all of us.”

  “How?” Her voice warbled.

  “By visiting your brother.”

  Once he finished telling her of his plan, she gave him her brother’s address without hesitation, looking it up in the small notebook she kept. Fifteen minutes later, Will was once more in his truck, Cruze beside him in the passenger seat. They took the south road out of town.

  He’d traveled no more than a mile when he was hit with a debilitating wave of nausea. He kept driving, however, fighting off the sickness. Too much was riding on this: Harmony House, the residents’ future, Nell’s, too. And most important, the life he and Miranda could have together.

  * * *

  “REVEREND DONAHUE?” WILL asked, removing his cowboy hat.

  “Have we met?” The distinguished older gentleman stood in his doorway, his smile friendly but his manner slightly guarded.

  Will understood. He’d be wary if a stranger showed up at his door late afternoon on Christmas Day. Especially one who looked how Will did.

  A quick check in his rearview mirror had almost caused him to throw the truck in Reverse. His hair was disheveled, the result of him constantly shoving his fingers into it. His shirt was rumpled, having been soaked with sweat, which dried and soaked again. His eyes were those of a wild man.

  But Will had made it to Carson City. In one piece, as far as he could tell. He hadn’t died. Hadn’t wanted to. Several times en route, he’d been forced to stop and wait until he was able to resume driving. Thoughts and images of Miranda had given him the strength and determination to push through and keep going. The pep talk from Sam was his mantra.

  “No, sir,” Will said. “But I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m well acquainted with your sister.”

  “Which one? I have three.”

  That threw him for a loop. “Um...Mrs. Litey.”

  “Leonora?” Interest flickered in the reverend’s eyes, but he didn’t invite Will inside, despite the cold. “How are you two acquainted?”

  “My name’s Will Dessaro. I live in Sweetheart and met your sister last summer when I helped Miranda, I mean Ms. Staley, evacuate the residents. Mrs. Litey, Leonora, she believes I’m Joseph. Did believe I was him. She’s much better now.”

  “You’re that young man! I’ve heard so much about you.” He gestured Will inside, his stilted movements and gnarled hands indicative of advanced arthritis. “You look as if you have something heavy weighing on your mind.”

  “You’re good at reading people.”

  “Comes with the job.”

  Delicious smells assailed Will the moment he crossed the threshold. “I’ve interrupted your dinner.”

  “Not at all. Some of my former parishioners stopped by and brought me leftovers. Much more than I can eat alone. Have you had your dinner?”

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “Join me, please. Conversation always flows easier over good food. You can tell me what brought you all this way to see me.”

  Will had expended a lot of energy, physical and emotional, getting to Carson City, and he was starved.

  “Thank you.”

  Reverend Donahue prepared two plates of turkey, stuffing, green beans, sweet potato casserole and cranberry sauce. He topped the meal off with homemade rolls.

  Will had consumed half his meal before he stopped long enough to breathe. “Sorry,” he murmured, embarrassed.

  “Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.” The reverend put down his fork. “Tell me about Ms. Staley.”

  “It’s your sister I want to talk to you about.”

  “You didn’t drive fifty miles on Christmas Day and in this weather to talk about my sister.”

  Will swallowed the bite of turkey and dressing he’d been chewing. “I did, sir. Both of them, actually.”

  Reverend Donahue listened intently as Will explained Miranda’s situation and the fate of Harmony House. Also how he’d come to know Mrs. Litey and spend time with her.

  “You must b
e very fond of her,” the reverend said when Will had finished.

  “Of both of them.”

  “They’re lucky to have you championing them.”

  Nice but not what Will wanted to hear. “If you remove your sister from Harmony House and the town she’s lived in her entire life, she may regress.”

  “You’re right. There’s a risk.” The reverend’s tone was thoughtful. “But I promised myself when I retired from the pulpit, I’d dedicate myself to taking care of Leonora. This house is more than big enough, and my days are filled with too many empty hours.”

  “Excuse me for saying this, Reverend, but it sounds as if you’d be moving Mrs. Litey because it’s best for you and not for her.”

  “You’re certainly direct. I respect that in a person.” He leaned back in his chair. “As children, Leonora and I were thick as thieves. As adults, I’m sorry to say, we grew apart. My work and life were here, hers were in Sweetheart. It’s no wonder she doesn’t recognize me when I call. I’m going to change that.”

  “And if she gets worse?”

  “There are places she and I can get help. More in Carson City than in Sweetheart.”

  “If she stays in Sweetheart, she may not need that help.”

  “Young man—”

  “Miranda is losing her elder-care business.”

  The reverend became pensive. “I am sorry about that.”

  “Come with me to Sweetheart,” Will said impulsively. “Today. Visit your sister before you make a final decision.”

  “It’s kind of late for that.”

  “You can stay at the Gold Nugget. I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Please, sir.”

  Reverend Donahue shook his head. “You love Miranda, and it’s natural that you’d fight for her. But there’s more at stake here.”

  Will didn’t correct the man. He was in love with Miranda and he was fighting for her. Nothing would stop him until he’d given it his all.

  “I’m not just thinking of Miranda. Two more residents of Harmony House are being forced out with nowhere to go.” Okay, that was an exaggeration. Babs had Arthur. Himey’s fate, however, was uncertain. “There’s also her caregiver, Nell, who’s losing her job.”

  “Have you ever considered a career in used car sales?” The reverend smiled. “You’d be good at it.”

  “Come home with me. See your sister. Miranda’s been good to her and deserves this one last chance. Who knows, you might like it there and decide to live in Sweetheart.” Will’s off-the-wall remark earned him a hearty laugh.

  “I can’t just move on a whim.”

  “Why not? You’re retired.”

  “A situation I’m not happy about. These joints of mine have slowed me down.” He rubbed his hands together. “If not for that, I’d still be preaching on Sunday mornings.”

  “Sweetheart doesn’t have a minister.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “We had three before the fire. And a justice of the peace. They all left. Now the only official in town able to marry people is the mayor.”

  “Has the wedding business picked up again?”

  “It’s starting to. The mayor and town council are planning a Mega Weekend of Weddings that, they say, will put us back on the map. We could use a new minister.”

  He shook his head. “There’s still my sister.”

  “Let her stay at Harmony House. She’s happy there. You could visit her every day. Take her on outings. The residents toured the Gold Nugget recently. Mrs. Litey came alive.”

  “I bet she did. She always loved that ranch.”

  He was softening, Will could sense it. He made one last pitch, agreeing he might have missed his calling as a used car salesman.

  “If you still want to move her after your visit, I’ll help you. She won’t cooperate, and you’ll need me.”

  He crooked a bushy silver brow at Will. “You’d do that? Even though it’s not what you want?”

  “I have faith.”

  The reverend smiled. “A man in my profession likes hearing that.” He stood and gathered their plates. “Help me clean the kitchen. I can’t very well leave with a sinkful of dirty dishes.”

  Will jumped from his chair, grinning foolishly. “Do you like dogs?” He reached for their empty glasses.

  “Love them. Why do you ask?”

  “You’ll be sharing your seat during the drive.”

  “Well, in that case, I’d better be prepared.” The reverend placed a few turkey scraps in a plastic bag.

  Will decided this just might be a merry Christmas after all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Miranda. Miranda! Where in blue blazes are you?” Nell burst into the storeroom off the garage, her face flushed from exertion. “Thank God I found you.”

  Miranda sprang to her feet, scattering the items she’d been organizing for future packing. “What’s wrong?” She hurried toward Nell, visions of Mrs. Litey falling in the tub or Himey having a heart attack.

  “We have visitors.” Nell took hold of the nearest shelf, breathing as if she’d run a marathon.

  “Visitors? Is that all?” Miranda stooped to pick up a toppled plastic basket. “Good grief, you gave me the scare of my life. Who’s here?”

  Some neighbors had probably stopped by for a little day-after-Christmas holiday cheer. Miranda could use some cheer, though she wasn’t in the mood to see people.

  Signing the lease with the county been difficult. So difficult, in fact, that she hadn’t done it. Instead she’d asked for more time to review the documents, saying she wanted her lawyer to look at them. Miranda had left Reno that morning sad and miserable, knowing what she should do but dreading it.

  Packing was supposed to keep her from obsessing about leaving her home, closing her business and losing Will. It hadn’t worked. The only bright spot in her day had been learning about Babs and Arthur’s engagement.

  “You’ve got to come now,” Nell insisted, finally recovering. And was that an excited grin she wore?

  “What’s going on?”

  “Will’s here.” Apparently at her wit’s end, Nell grabbed Miranda by the arm and physically removed her from the storeroom.

  “Will?” Miranda was just coming to terms with that bit of news when Nell dropped a second bombshell.

  “He brought Mrs. Litey’s brother with him.”

  “Reverend Donahue?”

  “Isn’t that what I just told you?” Nell rolled her eyes. “Honestly.”

  Both women stumbled through the garage and into the kitchen.

  “When did the reverend arrive in town?” Miranda asked.

  “Last night. Will brought him. He stayed at the Gold Nugget. They’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

  “The reverend lives in Carson City.”

  “That’s right. Will went there and got him.”

  Miranda ground to a halt. “Impossible. He can’t leave Sweetheart.”

  “I reckon he can, if it’s important enough. You must be pretty important to him.”

  Nell couldn’t be more wrong. If Miranda really was important to Will, he wouldn’t have walked out on her the other day. Nell must also be wrong about him driving to Carson City.

  At the sink, Miranda hastily washed the grime from her hands, then finger combed her messy hair. Why hadn’t she put on makeup today?

  What difference did it make? Will wasn’t there to see her; he’d accompanied Mrs. Litey’s brother. Besides, they weren’t dating anymore. She shouldn’t care about how she looked, and she didn’t.

  Miranda glimpsed herself in the small mirror on the wall beside the refrigerator and quickly wiped a smudge from her cheek.

  “
You look fine,” Nell admonished with will-you-hurry-up impatience.

  Miranda slowly entered the front room. Will stood there, the reverend at his side, Crackers dancing in circles in a bid for attention.

  The two halves of her broken heart beat for the first time in three days.

  “Merry Christmas, Miranda. It’s a pleasure to see you again. Been too long.” Reverend Donahue stepped forward, his hand extended. “I hope you’ll pardon our interruption.”

  “I— It’s fine. You’re welcome...anytime.” Her mouth didn’t move as fast as her brain, which was racing.

  “I want to see Leonora one last time before making a final decision about moving her. Will here insisted. Drove all the way to Carson City to convince me.”

  “He did?” Her gaze traveled to Will. “To Carson City?”

  He nodded.

  “How?”

  He didn’t take his eyes off her. “One mile at a time.”

  A nondescriptive answer that revealed nothing. And everything.

  Nell was right. Miranda was important to Will. The gaping rift inside her began to mend.

  “Any chance I can see my sister?” the reverend asked.

  “Absolutely!” Miranda started toward the hall, continually glancing backward at Will.

  He lingered until the reverend called for Will to join them. He and Miranda waited outside Mrs. Litey’s room while the reverend went in.

  Miranda was acutely aware of Will’s proximity. Of the heat his body generated. Of his eyes never leaving her face.

  He’d driven all the way to Carson City to bring back Mrs. Litey’s brother. She was still trying to grasp the full meaning of that.

  “Why?” she whispered to him.

  His reply was to take her hand in his and hold it tight.

  That was all the answer she needed.

  “Leonora?” The reverend approached the bed and spoke softly.

  Mrs. Litey sat up, pillows bolstering her back, staring out the window. At the sound of her name, she turned to face her brother and glared.

  This was not one of her good days.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  The reverend looked crushed.

 

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