Come Home For Christmas

by Matthews, Susanne

  “Put them in the living room, and we can go from there.”

  ***

  Ethan placed the last of the boxes of Christmas decorations on the living room floor. He heard voices from the kitchen. Krista was probably getting lunch ready. The soup she’d made smelled delicious, and she’d promised grilled ham and cheese sandwiches to go with it. There would be cookies for dessert.

  From the way she’d reacted to his touch, he was certain Nitchkov had hit her. Why hadn’t she charged him? If she had, it would’ve made the news. A lot of abused women didn’t come forward because they felt they were somehow to blame, something their lousy husbands had probably told him. While he’d never seen it, he’d be willing to bet his dad had taken his fist to his mom. He’d never hit him, but his abuse had been more insidious. Bruises healed, but the pain inflicted by cruel words and actions cut even deeper. If he ever saw Nitchkov up close and personal, he’d punch the bastard’s lights out.

  Since Krista hadn’t mentioned the note he’d placed in the box, he assumed she hadn’t read it yet. The sooner she did, the better things would be. The will and the other legal documents had to be discussed. Once she accepted his offer for restitution for the ranch, he could begin to make things right between the two of them. If she rejected either of his offers, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to give up this time.

  “Daddy, come and eat,” Leah yelled. “Krista said we have to eat before we open any of the boxes.”

  “Coming.” He needed to get into Schneider’s as soon as he could and visit that angel because he planned to amend Leah’s Christmas wish.

  Two hours later, he sat on the sofa in the den untangling mini-lights and testing them as he did. Bing Crosby crooned “White Christmas” and for the first time in years, all was right in his world. Krista’s gold macaroni wreath, paper plate Santa, and handprint tree had been given places of honor, and tomorrow they’d hang her construction paper lamb and clothes peg reindeer in the tree.

  Earlier, there’d been an emotional moment when Krista opened the box of nutcrackers. She’d fought tears as she’d carefully unwrapped each one, dutifully explaining its history, including how the soldier had been broken. Right now, Leah was lying on the rug in front of the fireplace looking through the book on nutcrackers he’d given Krista one Christmas. It had always been kept with her collection and he’d boxed it up accordingly.

  “Are those lights safe?” Krista asked, coming into the room. “I don’t know when they were used last.”

  “These are only a couple of years old. I replaced them when Leah was old enough to understand Christmas. You’ll find a box of keepsake ornaments I bought for her in there, too. I didn’t want to chance breaking any of your mother’s heirloom ones. They’re yours. Maybe we can use them this year on the main tree. I bought new lights for that tree last week.” He shrugged. I figured you’d want one in here, too. You used to love Christmas.”

  “I used to love a lot of things,” she said. “As far as the ornaments go, let’s mix them up. Let’s not have any yours and mine this year. For once, let’s make it all hers. I think it’s time for hot cocoa and cookies.”

  “With little marshmallows?” Leah asked.

  “If there are any.”

  “Okay,” Ethan agreed, her comment about Christmas eating at him. “I’ll go out and refuel the generator and then when I come back, maybe we can play a game.” He turned to Leah, now standing looking at the crèche his grandfather had carved years ago. “As I remember, Krista plays a mean game of Candyland.”

  The afternoon flew by, and after a homemade spaghetti dinner he’d never have been able to make in a hundred years, they settled down to watch Rudolph and Frosty the Snowman, two of Krista’s old favorites.

  By nine o’clock Leah was exhausted, and he carried her up to bed. Instead of the two stories she usually needed, she was out like a light before he got halfway through The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas. Grateful for the reprieve, he headed down the stairs to enjoy time alone with Krista.

  “Can I get you anything,” he asked coming into the room.

  “No, I’m good. So what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” she asked moving away from the window where she’d been standing. “It’s stopped snowing.”

  “Well, after I take care of the animals, we can go and get a couple of trees. Reverend Clark called and wants to have a pageant rehearsal. While Leah’s there, I thought we could go and see my lawyer, Mr. Slocum, and iron things out. There are documents to sign. There are copies of them all in the box in your closet. You may not want to read my letters, but it would be best if you read those before we see him. No surprises that way.”

  “If you insist, but I’d much rather put all this off until I get back in January.”

  “That won’t work. The ranch’s year end is December 31, and we really have to get this straightened out this year. It’ll be my accountant’s worst nightmare as it is.” While he’d find a way to divide this year’s income, if they started January with the new split, it would be easier.

  “If you say so, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we just sit here and pretend it’s fifteen years ago and watch It’s a Wonderful Life?”

  “Of course, but if it’s fifteen years ago, then you probably shouldn’t be having that drink. There’s a lot of rum in that eggnog,” he said and laughed, trying to keep things light. If she’d said ten years ago, he could’ve put his arm around her, but fifteen would keep him in his chair on the other side of the room.

  “You’re not getting it back,” she said, “now quiet. It’s starting.”

  Together, but separate, they watched the Christmas classic. When the movie ended, she had tears in her eyes.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  He watched her limb the stairs wishing it was fifteen years ago because if it were, he could avoid what had happened five years later.

  Chapter Seven

  Light filtered into the room telling Krista she’s slept in later than the previous morning. She glanced at her alarm clock. It was just before seven, her usual wake-up time. For the second night in a row, she’d slept soundly. While Leah would be up by half-past seven, that gave her almost an hour to herself. Time to look in the box as she’d promised Ethan she would. It only made sense that she should know what he expected her to sign before she did.

  Putting on her slippers, she donned her robe and grabbed the box off the shelf she could easily reach. She’d wanted Theo to lower the shelf in their closet like this, but his answer had been to tell her to stand on a chair. The shelf was just fine for him. Forcing her thoughts away from one of the two men who’d made her life hell, she went down the stairs and set the box on the table.

  She made a fresh pot of coffee, grabbed a banana from the tree on the counter, and stepped out into the mudroom. The sun poured into the small glassed-in porch. As much as snowstorms were unsettling, they always left so much beauty behind. Everything was pristine and fresh. Even the snow angels had vanished under a new coating of the white stuff.

  Going back inside, she tossed the peel in the green bin for recycling, fixed her coffee and then sat at the table. She opened the box, surprised to see it was almost full. On the very top, Ethan had left her a note, with very specific “Read me first” directions on it. Dutifully, she pulled the sheet of paper out of the box and unfolded it.

  Krista,

  They say handwritten correspondence is a lost art, and that’s a shame. So many important documents were penned by hand, and they survived the test of time.—like the letters I read from you and the ones you’ll find in here. When I heard from my lawyer that you’d accepted my invitation to come home, I was thrilled and scared to death. I don’t know how you’ll react to what you’ve learned. I can tell you that it took days for me to fully accept the enormity of the situation.

  The last few months have been hard on
you, and I pray I’m not going to add to your pain. I’ve dreamed of seeing you again, having you back at Seven Oaks for ten years, and I never gave up hope that you’d come back one day, not even after I found out you’d gotten married. This is home—your home—the place where you’ve always belonged.

  I’ve never been good with words face-to-face, and you know that, because somehow, the message I thought I’d conveyed ten years ago got misunderstood. Why else would you have left and not come to me? I thought it would be easier to show you all this, and let you make the decision to stay or go on your own. If you’re reading this, it means you’ve decided to give me a chance to prove I didn’t know what my father did. I can’t figure out why he did it. I suppose he was jealous of what Uncle Luke and Aunt Jill had because from what I remember his time with Mom wasn’t a happy one. I think, given the chance, we could’ve been happy, too.

  In the box, you’ll find Uncle Luke’s last will and testament, the one that should’ve been used at the time. There are also the most recent bank statements and the notices of assessment from the tax department for the last ten years. I had the accountant copy them for you. You can talk to him if you want. His number’s on the document. Finally, you’ll find the restitution agreement I’d like you to accept. I’ll never be able to repay what’s been stolen from you, but I’m offering to raise your stake in the ranch to 75 percent as long as Leah and I can keep living and working here. I took over as manager after Dad’s stroke, and you’ll see the ranch is doing well. There are some legal matters concerning the blackmail and other stuff that the Calgary police and Mr. Slocum, my lawyer, are dealing with and he can explain it all when we see him. This is the best I can do; I hope it’s good enough.

  You’ll also find the letters I sent you ten years ago. They’re open, but that’s the way I found them, which means my father knew how I felt about you—how I thought you felt about me. You have no idea how deeply his betrayal hurt me. It just proves what a vindictive man he was. What they say about misery liking company must be true since he made us and everyone else around him miserable. The only bright spot in my life has been Leah. For her sake, I’m trying to be a good, God-fearing man. I’ve joined the church and while I’m not overly religious, I do believe in a loving God, and I know I have to forgive if I ever want to be forgiven, but it’s hard to let go of all the hurt and pain he caused. Having you home again, returning to you what’s rightfully yours and making amends for it will go a long way toward making things right between us once more.

  I’ve reread the letters I wrote, and I hope that by reading them, you’ll see I never meant to mislead you. There’s never been anyone other than Leah who meant as much to me as you did and do. I loved you, Krista. I’d like to see if we can recapture the friendship we had. Seven Oaks is your home. You were happy here once; I’d like to think you can be again.

  Ethan

  Krista swiped at the tears running down her face. I loved you; we could’ve been happy. Past tense. The words were a death knell. Ten years ago he’d loved her, but that was then; this was now. He was offering her half of his inheritance and asking for her friendship, when what she wanted now, just as she had ten years ago, was his love. Why hadn’t she gotten on a plane and gone to Vancouver? She’d asked herself that questions a thousand times, and each time she did, the answer was the same. She’d lacked faith in his love and have believed the awful things Uncle Charles had said. When Ethan hadn’t answered her letters, she’d assumed the worst.

  Reaching back into the box, she removed the will, legal papers, and tax statements, and pulled out the pile of envelopes held together with an elastic band. There were twelve of them. She reached for the first one on the pile. Changed her mind and put it back. Instead, she went over the will, the other legal document and the tax notices. Seven Oaks was doing well—well enough to support both of them as it had her stepfather and Uncle Charles.

  She shook her head. She would not allow Ethan to give away his birthright. There was no need for restitution. Wiping away her tears, she packed everything back into the box and went upstairs before Leah found her crying for the second day in a row.

  When the chores were finished, they took the horse drawn wagon out into the woods and selected two Christmas trees—a full sized pine for the living room and a smaller one for the family room. Ian and Ethan set them up in their stands. They’d have to sit a day before they could be decorated, but there was something magical about doing the tree on Christmas Eve. She remembered all the fun she’d had and looked forward to watching the awe and wonder on Leah’s face as they brought the tree to life.

  After lunch, they got ready to go into the town for the rest of the day. Ethan had opted to use the SUV since the roads were plowed, making it easier on Krista to get in and out. They brought everything they’d need for the tree lighting ceremony, and Krista was disappointed she wouldn’t be able to skate. She’d gone up to the attic looking for her old sports equipment. Her skis were there, but not her skates. She must’ve taken them with her, or they’d been left out in the barn and Uncle Charles had gotten rid of them.

  “You’ve got this daddy thing down pat, don’t you,” Krista said, coming into the kitchen, carrying her snow pants. She was amazed at how well organized he was with the skates, extra socks, mitts, and hats he had packed for the child.

  “Jonesy has been a big help. She’s the one who taught me about pre-packed travel bags. I don’t know what I’d have done without her. You know, I’d have expected you to have children by now. You used to want a big family.”

  “I used to want a lot of things. I learned you can’t always get what you want.”

  She realized Leah would learn that lesson this year when she didn’t get her new mommy, and that was just sad.

  * * *

  “Mr. Slocum, the offer is a generous one, but I have to refuse,” Krista said.

  “I see,” the lawyer said, pursing his lips. “How much more do you want?”

  “You don’t understand. I don’t want Ethan to make restitution,” she said quickly. “To paraphrase, he didn’t do the crime, so he shouldn’t do the time. I want you to do whatever you have to do so that the shares in Seven Oaks are fifty-fifty. If Ethan gets married, I’m willing to sell him my half for a reasonable amount with the proviso that I can board my horse there until I can find a new home for her. I’m going to look for work in Calgary, so I expect to stay in the area for a while.”

  “You’re giving up the controlling share?”

  “I am. I think that one share has caused enough pain.”

  “What about the legal proceedings against Caswell and Sawyer?”

  “I’d like to say, throw the book at them, but I don’t really know what can be done.”

  “Sawyer will definitely face blackmail charges and whatever the company has will be sold off to repay some of what was stolen from you. They’ve both been disbarred, Caswell posthumously, but it’s a damn shame the man who orchestrated all this got off scot free.”

  She still didn’t understand why it had happened, and probably never would. Uncle Charles had been her guardian, chosen by her mother and stepfather in their wills long before they’d been killed in a freak avalanche while skiing in the Rockies. They’d trusted him, but greed changed people. The will had basically given her control of Seven Oaks, something Uncle Charles would’ve hated. Maybe he’d been afraid she’d run off and marry a stranger or sell her share of the ranch, leaving him at the mercy of strangers.

  If he read her letters as Ethan implied, then he could’ve prevented that possibility by encouraging her relationship with Ethan, but he’d destroyed it instead, and he’d been so organized—first, he arranged for Ethan to take that course in farm management in Vancouver. Next, he’d gotten rid of the Internet, making communication difficult, especially when he’d refused to give her any phone numbers as well. After that, he’d threatened her, demeaned her, always when they were alone, so when Jonesy had gone on vacation, he had a clear field. Terrifie
d, when he’d told her to get out, she had, running back to the city where she’d been born.

  The lawyer cleared his throat.

  “Draw up whatever you have to make sure the ranch and everything involved with it, is owned jointly,” she said. “The main house is mine, but the manager’s house I understand is his. I need you to draw up a will for me leaving everything I own to him or to Leah in the event Ethan dies before I do. I have to go back to Ottawa to attend to the sale of my condo, but I’ll sign everything when I get back in January.”

  “What about the income you were denied these past ten years?”

  “Just split this year’s income with me, and we can write off the other nine years. Mr. Slocum, what my uncle did was despicable, but I won’t perpetuate the hate and pettiness.”

  “If you’re sure, I’ll have the papers ready for you after the holidays.” He stood and offered his hand. “Merry Christmas, Krista. May I say I’m impressed by how well you’re taking all this.”

  “There’s nothing to be impressed about. Seven Oaks was home to both of us. It should stay that way. Merry Christmas, Mr. Slocum.”

  Krista stepped out into the hall where Ethan waited. She smiled at him. “I know you and Mr. Slocum have stuff to discuss, and I have a few stops to make. What time is Leah’s rehearsal over?”

  “Four.”

  “I’ll meet you at the church.”

  She hurried out of the lawyer’s office before Ethan could say anything. She didn’t want to be there when he heard her decision. He’d try to talk her out of it and that was the last thing she wanted. She had some Christmas shopping to do, and though her selection of stores were limited, she knew what she wanted and where she’d find it.

  In Gordon’s handmade woolens, she purchased a saddle blanket for Leah’s pony. In Fraser’s jewelers, she bought fourteen karat gold earrings in the shape of tiny horseshoes for Leah, and a pocket watch and fob for Ethan—and while her bank account was almost empty, she hadn’t had to cut her hair to pay for them. Glancing at her watch, a parting gift from the Gladiators’ management, she saw she had enough time to get a rawhide chew toy for Rascal, wrapping paper, and an ornament for the top of the second tree. She slipped into the back of the church with three minutes to spare and sat down next to Ethan.