Home for Christmas. Debbie Macomber
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set aside her mug and stood. Cal had been on his own for nearly two weeks now, if her calculations were correct. A man could get lonely after that much time without a woman.
He hadn’t let her pay for his meal the other night. Maybe she could come up with another way to demonstrate just how grateful she was for the job recommendation.
“How long did Jane say she was going to be away?” Glen asked Cal as they drove along the fence line. The bed of the pickup was filled with posts and wire and tools; they’d been examining their fencing, doing necessary repairs, all afternoon.
Cal didn’t want to think about his wife or about their strained telephone conversations of the last few nights. Yesterday he’d hung up depressed and anxious when Jane told him she wouldn’t be home as soon as she’d hoped. Apparently Harry Dickinson’s broken hip had triggered a number of other medical concerns. Just when it seemed his hip was healing nicely, the doctors discovered a spot on his lung. It’d shown up earlier, but in the weeks since he’d been admitted, the spot had grown. All at once the big C loomed over Jane’s father. Cancer.
“I don’t know when she’ll be back,” Cal muttered, preferring not to discuss the subject with his brother. Cal blamed himself for their uncomfortable conversation. He’d tried to be helpful, reassuring, but hadn’t been able to prevent his disappointment from surfacing. He’d expected her home any day, and now it seemed she was going to be delayed yet again.
“Are you thinking of flying to California yourself?” his brother asked.
“No.” Cal’s response was flat.
“Why not?”
“I don’t see that it’d do any good.” He believed that her parents had become emotionally dependent on her, as though it was within Jane’s power to take their problems away. She loved her parents and he knew she felt torn between their needs and his. And here he was, putting pressure on her, as well.
He didn’t mean to add to her troubles, but he had.
“Do you think I’m an irrational jerk?”
“Yes,” Glen said, “so what’s your point?”
That made Cal smile. Leave it to his younger brother to say exactly what he needed to hear. “You’d be a lot more sympathetic if it was your wife.”
“Probably,” Glen agreed.
Normally Cal kept his affairs to himself, but he wasn’t sure about the current situation. After Jane had hung up, Cal had battled the urge to call her back, settle matters. They hadn’t fought, not exactly, but they were dissatisfied with each other. Cal understood how Jane felt, understood her intense desire to support her parents, guide them through this difficult time. But she wasn’t an only child—she had a brother living nearby—and even if she had been, her uncle was a doctor, too. The Dickinsons didn’t need to rely so heavily on Jane, in Cal’s opinion—and he’d made that opinion all too clear.
“What would you do?” Cal asked his brother.
Glen met his look and shrugged. “Getting tired of your own cooking, are you?”
“It’s more than that.” Cal had hoped Jane would force her brother to take on some of the responsibility.
She hadn’t.
Cal and Glen reached the top of the ridge that overlooked the ranch house. “Whose car is that?” Glen asked.
“Where?”
“Parked by the barn.”
Cal squinted, and shook his head. “Don’t have a clue.”
“We’d better find out, don’t you think?”
Cal steered the pickup toward the house. As they neared the property, Cal recognized Nicole Nelson lounging on his porch. Her again? He groaned inwardly. Their meeting at the Mexican Lindo had been innocent enough, but he didn’t want her mentioning it to his brother. Glen was sure to say something to Ellie, and his sister-in-law would inevitably have a few questions and would probably discuss it with Dovie, and…God only knew where all this would end.
“It’s Nicole Nelson,” Cal muttered.
“The girl from the rodeo?”
Glen had noticed her that day and oddly Cal hadn’t. “You’ve met her before,” he told his brother.
“I have?” Glen sounded doubtful. “When? She doesn’t look like anyone I’d forget that easily.”
“It was a few years back,” Cal said as they approached the house. “She was Jennifer Healy’s roommate. She looked different then. Younger or something.”
He parked the truck, then climbed out of the cab.
“Hi,” Nicole called, stepping down off the porch. “I thought I might have missed you.”
“Hi,” Cal returned gruffly, wanting her to know he was uncomfortable with her showing up at the ranch like this. “You remember my brother, Glen, don’t you?”
“Hello, Glen.”
Nicole sparkled with flirtatious warmth and friendliness, and it was hard not to be affected.
“Nicole.” Glen touched the rim of his hat. “Good to see you again.”
“I brought you dinner,” Nicole told Cal as she strolled casually back to her car. She looked as comfortable and nonchalant as anyone he’d ever seen. The way she acted, anyone might think she made a habit of stopping by unannounced.
Glen glanced at him and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t need to say a word; Cal knew exactly what he was thinking.
“After everything you’ve done for me, it was the least I could do,” Nicole said. “I really am grateful.”
“For what?” Glen looked sharply at Cal, then Nicole.
Nicole opened the passenger door and straightened. “Cal was kind enough to give me a job recommendation for Tumbleweed Books.”
“Annie phoned and asked if I knew her,” Cal muttered under his breath, minimizing his role.
“I hope you like taco casserole,” Nicole said, holding a glass dish with both hands. “I figured something Mexican would be a good bet, since you seem to enjoy it.”
“How’d she know that?” Glen asked, glaring at his brother.
“We met at the Mexican Lindo the other night,” Cal supplied, figuring the news was better coming from him than Nicole.
“You did, did you?” Glen said, his eyes filled with meaning.
“I tried to buy his dinner,” Nicole explained, “but Cal wouldn’t let me.”
Cal suspected his brother had misread the situation. “We didn’t have dinner together if that’s what you’re thinking,” he snapped. He was furious with Glen, as well as Nicole, for putting him in such an awkward position.
Holding the casserole, Nicole headed toward the house.
“I can take it from here,” Cal said.
“Oh, it’s no problem. I’ll put it in the oven for you and get everything started so all you need to do is serve yourself.”
She made it appear so reasonable. Unsure how to stop her, Cal stood in the doorway, arms loose at his sides. Dammit, he felt like a fool.
“There’s plenty if Glen would like to stay for dinner,” Nicole added, smiling at Cal’s brother over her shoulder.
“No, thanks,” Glen said pointedly, “I’ve got a wife and family to go home to.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Nicole said, her expression sympathetic. “Cal’s wife and children are away, and he’s left to fend for himself.”
“I