Hot Christmas Nights

by Rachel Bailey

  By the time she reached the front porch her heart was pounding and she leaned against the balustrade and drew in a few deep breath. It was a hot day and perspiration trickled between her shoulder blades. Two of her father’s dogs raced across the yard and she realized she didn’t know their names. When she’d left ten years earlier her dad’s old retriever Angus had spent his days lazing on the porch. Angus had been gone a long time and it made her realize how different things were. And yet, in so many ways, much was unchanged.

  “Everything okay, Elyse?”

  Brett’s voice wound up her spine and she twisted her neck to watch him. He had come through the door and took a few steps toward her.

  “Yes. Fine.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked, coming to stand beside her.

  She shrugged. “Of course. I’m just tired.”

  “Understandably. You’ve had a long drive today. Maybe you should get some rest.”

  She clutched the handrail. “In this middle-of-the-day heat?” she shot back. “I don’t think so. Unless you can magically produce an air conditioning unit for my bedroom.”

  His mouth twisted. “Open the window and let the breeze in.”

  Elyse held up one hand against the still, warm day. “What breeze? I couldn’t fly a kite today.”

  He laughed. “When did you become such a glass-half-empty kind of girl?”

  Her brows came up. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked and turned, resting his behind on the balustrade.

  “Nothing,” she replied, feeling heat rise up her neck. She didn’t want to take a hike down memory lane with Brett. It was pointless. And painful. “So, how’s the sugar crush going this year?”

  “We’re done. I’ve been helping your dad this week. He’s had some problems with his machine.”

  “So he said.” She looked around. “Looks as though there’s been other problems here too,’ she said and pointed to the fences down by the tractor shed. “How long have things been deteriorating to this extent?”

  “Things?” Brett queried softly. “Or Frank?”

  Elyse breath caught in her throat. “What does that mean?”

  “I think you know,” he said. “I saw you looking at your father. You know something’s not quite right.”

  Elyse pushed down her panic. “Tell me the truth, is my dad…sick?”

  Brett shrugged one shoulder. “He’s changing.”

  “Changing?”

  Elyse gripped Brett’s arm, thinking in some part of her brain that it was the first time she’d touched him in ten years. Her belly rolled over immediately. But she didn’t move her hand. She gripped harder.

  “Alzheimer’s,” he said quietly. “It’s been coming on slowly. But last year he went to a specialist and it was confirmed.”

  The blood drained from her face. “Why haven’t I been told this? Why didn’t dad say –”

  “You haven’t been here,” he said pointedly. “You’ve been hiding out in Sydney for the past ten years.”

  Elyse pulled her hand away. “I haven’t been hiding.”

  “Sure you have,” Brett said harshly. “From Denary. From this place. From your dad. And from–”

  “Don’t say it,” she insisted and raised her hands. “It’s not true. I stayed in Sydney because that’s where I work. That’s where my life is. And not because I was hiding from my father or you or anyone else. I like my life, Brett. I’m happy. But that doesn’t change the fact that I should have been told that my father was unwell. Billy-Jean didn’t say anything about it to–”

  “B.J. doesn’t know much about it,” he said, tight lipped. “Besides, she hasn’t been here for the past year. Wasn’t she staying with a friend in Brisbane when she had Jack?”

  “Yes,” Elyse replied. “I thought she was still in London.”

  “As did my brother. And you know your sister….as lovely as she is, she’s only nineteen and not really interested in anything unless it’s happening to her.”

  It was true. Her sister was a little self-absorbed. But she was very young and did have a new baby to think about. No wonder B.J. hadn’t said anything about their father’s deteriorating health.

  “Is there anything that can be done?’ she asked. “Medication or therapy or –”

  “You know Frank,” he said and shrugged. “He’s not the therapy type. He just wants to get on with his life and act like everything is okay.”

  “But everything is not okay,” she said hotly.

  “He’s ill, Elyse. But it’s an illness that’s slow moving. He could be quite capable of running things around here for years until he needs full time care. And when that happens we’ll make sure he’s cared for.”

  “We?” His brows shot up. “You mean you?”

  “I mean all of us who care about him. Like my mother and Rick and Billy-Jean…and me.”

  Elyse experienced such a sense of exclusion her insides hurt. “He’s my father…I can help.”

  Brett’s gaze narrowed. “Money isn’t the answer, Elyse. Perhaps down the track when he needs full time care…but for now, your dad just needs time and attention.”

  She was about to open her mouth and say she could give him that, but quickly changed her mind. Because she couldn’t give him time. She lived in another state. Had another life.

  “I’ll do what I can,” she said quietly. “And…thank you Brett. I appreciate everything you’ve done for him. I know it couldn’t have been easy considering our history.”

  His jaw tightened. “Not everything is about you, Elyse.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that –”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “For the record, I got over you a long time ago.”

  He turned and walked back inside and once he was out of sight Elyse slumped against the railing. His words shouldn’t have hurt. But they did.

  And she had no idea why.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Brett left the Prescott farm after lunch. Rick and his mother had stayed and he was pleased he had some time to himself. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to get all thoughts of Elyse out of his head.

  She was still as beautiful.

  And still had ice in her veins.

  Stop thinking about her.

  Brett went for a long ride when he got home. His old bay gelding Clyde was as ornery as he was unpredictable, but Brett didn’t mind. Keeping up with Clyde’s moods kept his thoughts off Elyse and anything else family related.

  If he’d thought being around her would be easy, he’d been kidding himself.

  By the time Rick and his mother got home it was well after five. Brett was still by the stables when his brother joined him, with a couple of beers in his hands. He passed one to Brett and they both took a long drink.

  “Well,” Rick said and grinned. “That was quite a day.”

  Brett closed the stall door and nodded. “Yeah. You coped pretty well though.”

  Rick’s face beamed. “He’s such a great kid. I dunno…I feel kinda giddy about the whole thing. I mean, I wasn’t expecting to be a dad this young. But after spending the afternoon with Jack, I really think I can do this.”

  “And Billy-Jean?” Brett asked quietly. “How do you feel about her?”

  His brother shrugged. “Well, I’m mad with her for not telling me sooner. But…I love her, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Brett queried. “You’re not sure?”

  He shrugged again. “B.J.’s the only girl I’ve been with…if you know what I mean. Even after she left I wasn’t interested in anyone else. And today she said she’d think about marrying me.”

  Brett’s guts churned. Rick was a naturally optimistic person, but he knew his brother had concerns about his relationship with the younger Prescott sister. Billy-Jean was spirited and unpredictable and Brett wasn’t convinced she had the temperament to settle down as a farmer’s wife.

  Like her sister.

  But for Rick’s sak
e, he hoped they could work it out. Better than he and Elyse had, at least.

  Brett headed into town early the following morning. It was three days out from Christmas and he needed to pick up the gifts he’d ordered for his mother and brother. Denary was a small town, but it had a supermarket, a bank, a saddler, a pharmacy, a medical practice, two gas stations, a small department store that sold everything from hardware to shoes, a hairdresser and several pubs. Plus, the Sugar Café in the center of town was a popular spot for the tourists who came through.

  He pulled up outside the saddler and headed inside.

  His friend Alistair was talking with a customer when he crossed the threshold, so he hung back and waited for his friend to finish the sale.

  “Didn’t expect to see you until this afternoon,” Alistair said once the customers had left the store.

  Brett shrugged lightly. “I thought I’d see if you’ve finished my brother’s piece.”

  Alistair nodded. “Yep, all done. It’s out the back.”

  He followed his friend into the storeroom and spotted the saddle by the workbench.

  “Looks great,” Brett said and admired the leather and metalwork on the western styled saddle.

  “Think it’s my best yet,” Alistair said as he hovered in the doorway. “I can make any alterations once he’s in it. Wanna leave it at my place until Christmas Eve?”

  “Sure,” Brett replied. “Thanks.”

  The front bell dinged and Alistair blew out a low whistle. “Well, doesn’t that beat all?”

  “What?”

  “She’s here,” his friend said quietly. “Your old flame.”

  Brett’s back straightened immediately. “Elyse?”

  “The one and only. Better come out and face the music,” Alistair said and grinned.

  “I saw her yesterday,” he said and headed for the doorway.

  “And how did it go?” his friend asked quietly.

  “As well as expected.”

  Sure enough, Elyse was standing in the center of the store, her back to them, her bag clasped tight to her side and her head tilted in that curious way he remembered. He rounded out his shoulders and pushed past his friend.

  “Elyse?”

  She turned instantly and frowned. “Oh…Brett. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Same,” he said.

  Alistair cleared his throat and walked across the room. “Hi, Elyse. It’s been a long time.”

  Her frown disappeared a little. “Hello, Alistair, it’s good to see you again. I heard you’d taken over you grandfather’s store.”

  “Yeah,” his friend said and shrugged. “Pop died a few years back.”

  “I heard that too,” she said and smiled a little. “I’m sorry. He was a very nice man.”

  Alistair nodded. “Yes, he was. So, what can I do for you?”

  Brett ignored the twitch between his shoulder blades. The conversation between Elyse and his best friend smacked of familiarity…which shouldn’t have made him feel anything. But it did.

  “I’m looking for a hat,” she said and walked toward the counter. “As a Christmas gift for my father.”

  “Sure,” Alistair said and walked around the counter to the hat display. “Anything particular in mind?”

  Brett caught her gaze and the twitch amplified. He hated that she could do that to him with barely a look. He moved toward the counter and crossed his arms, watching as his friend pulled down a few hats for her to consider.

  “I like this one,” she said and picked up a black one and turned her eyes toward Brett. “What do you think?”

  He shrugged. “I think…that Frank likes to wear his straw hat these days. And,” Brett said pointedly. “He doesn’t like his routine to change.”

  Her eyes flashed and then she smiled uber-sweetly. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

  Alistair laughed and Brett scowled at this friend before turning his attention back to Elyse. “You asked. I answered.”

  “So, that would be yes?”

  Brett ignored her sarcasm and focused on his still smiling friend. “I’ll drop by your place on Christmas Eve to pick up the saddle.”

  Alistair nodded, but Brett was already on his way out. He’d made it about ten steps down the street when he heard Elyse calling his name. He stopped and turned. She was behind him, puffing as though she’d just run a sprint.

  “What?”

  Her chin jutted out. “So, if not a hat…what should I get him?”

  Brett drew in a steady breath. “He’s your father, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  He watched as her eyes darkened. “Don’t be a horse’s ass, Brett. I’m asking nicely.”

  She was. Extra nicely. Like she was trying too hard. But Brett wasn’t fooled. There was way too much tension between them for any interaction to be completely civilized.

  “He wants a ukulele.”

  Her brows shot up. “A what?”

  “A ukulele,” he repeated. “You know, it’s like a small –”

  “I know what it is,” she said, cutting him off. “Where would I find one of those in this town?”

  Brett shrugged lightly. The way she said this town smacked of disapproval. “Maybe Millers Department store.”

  She nodded. “Oh, right. Thanks.”

  “They don’t open until ten,” he said as he checked his watch.

  Elyse scowled. “Ten?”

  “The owners tend to their cattle each morning,” he explained. “So, they open at ten.”

  She looked as though he’d said they had horns and claw feet. City-girl. There was nothing left of the girl he’d known. The girl who could ride a horse like she was born in the saddle. The girl who could drive a tractor or cane cutter with a kind a fearless resolve. That girl was gone. Now, she was all city. All bright lights and five-star restaurants.

  She checked her phone for the time. “Ten,” she said again. “Right. That’s forty five minutes away.” She looked around for a second and gestured to the café across the street. “Feel like grabbing breakfast?”

  Breakfast? Did that constitute as a date? “I had breakfast three hours ago.”

  Her frown returned briefly. “Consider it an early lunch. Or just coffee. Anyhow, I’m hungry and I’m buying.”

  Brett considered all the things he had to do and the rest of the errands he had planned. And he really didn’t want to spend any more time with Elyse than was necessary.

  “Sure,” he heard himself say and then wondered if there was a bigger fool than him.

  Breakfast. Coffee.

  Really?

  And it was as though every pair of eyes in the Sugar Café were suddenly focused on them as they walked through to door. Of course, the word would spread that she’d come back to Denary. Small towns were like that. She should have known to expect curiosity. And that half the people seated would say hello to Brett as he walked by and almost all averted their gaze when she passed.

  It was no secret that she’d left Denary in a hurry ten years ago. Clearly she hadn’t been forgiven for it either.

  Elyse was silently cursing her own foolishness until they were seated at a booth.

  A waitress approached and handed them menus, flashing Elyse a kind of disdainful look as she turned away.

  Great…all of a sudden I feel like enemy number one.

  She was stupid to have come into town. And even more stupid to have suggested breakfast.

  Holing up at the farm and avoiding Brett was a better option. But she needed to talk. About Billy-Jean. And about her father. And no one knew the situation better than Brett McCrane. There hadn’t been time or opportunity to ask more questions about her father’s health the previous afternoon. And her dad had clammed up when she’d tried to broach the subject after dinner. Besides, with B.J. and Jack in the house, everyone’s attention was focused on the baby and her sister’s revelation that Rick had proposed marriage.

  Elyse looked across the table at Br
ett and tried to take solace in the fact he was fidgeting in his seat. So, he was as uncomfortable as she was? Good. It made her feel a little better. Still, it was difficult keeping her thoughts away from how attractive he was.

  “Did you know Rick proposed to my sister yesterday?” she asked flatly.

  “I heard that.”

  Elyse linked her hands together. “And do you think it’s a good idea?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “They’re of age…they can do what they like.”

  “I know how old they are,” she shot back. “That’s not what I asked. I want to know what you think about it.”

  He drew in a long breath. “I think that Rick wants to do what is best for the baby. Marriage makes sense.”

  Elyse tensed. “B.J. isn’t so sure,” she said frankly. “Plenty of people raise children together without marriage.”

  Brett’s blue eyes glittered. “Rick’s an old fashioned kind of guy, I guess.”

  She tapped her fingertips. “Like you?”

  One dark brow rose. “Are you asking if I’d want to do the same thing should I find myself in that situation?” he asked quietly. “I probably would.”

  “Thankfully we always used birth control.”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, Elyse wanted to snatch them back. The last thing she wanted was a trip down memory lane that had anything to do with their failed relationship.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “Thankfully.”

  The waitress returned to take their order, which gave Elyse a moment to hide her burning cheeks behind the menu. She ordered a small cheese omelet, toast and white tea and folded the menu just as Brett ordered coffee and a couple of hash browns. Once the waitress left, Elyse sucked in a shallow breath and managed a tight smile. There was so much unresolved tension between them. And it fueled her curiosity.

  “Why did you get divorced?”

  He stilled instantly. “We weren’t compatible.”

  A strange feeling uncurled in Elyse’s belly. “She left you?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “I left her.”

  Silence stretched between them. That wasn’t quite the story she’d heard from Billy-Jean.

  “Oh…I thought it was the other way around,” she said with a kind of vague embarrassment. “I mean, that’s what I’d heard.”