Coming Home for Christmas (16 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Coming Home for Christmas
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“Yep,” Grace said.
With a questioning look, Ashley said, “But we already have our presents, Miss Grace. You bought us all these pretty ornaments.”
“Oh, sweetie, those aren't your Christmas presents. Those are presents for the . . . tree. Yes, trees get presents, too,” Grace improvised. Bryce gave her a high five. She
was
practical, wasn't she?
“They do? Mommy never got presents for our tree,” Amanda said.
“Well, only real trees get presents because when they're cut down they leave all their . . . tree friends and family behind.”
“You're pushing it, Sis,” Bryce interjected.
“Yes, I suppose so. But it doesn't matter. Either way, I'm going to need the help of two little . . . elves. Ashley, Amanda, do you want to be my elves for a while?”
“Do we have to wear those shoes that curl up in the toes like the elves at the mall wear?”
Again they laughed. “All you have to do is follow me,” Grace instructed, then headed toward the steps.
As the two little girls trailed behind her, she heard Amanda whisper to her older sister, “See. I told you there really was a Santa Claus.”
Chapter Ten
The road leading off the mountain was completely cleared of the afternoon snowfall. The forecasters had been wrong. They'd barely gotten a foot of snow. Max was glad because he didn't want to wait any longer to do what he'd decided to do as he'd skied down Powder Rise yesterday afternoon.
With both dogs securely buckled in the backseat of the fire-engine red Jeep, Max carefully drove down the mountain to his destination: Denver. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been to the city, but now was as good a time as any.
The traffic on I-70 was heavy since it was Sunday morning. Hundreds of residents of Denver and the surrounding area drove to the resorts on the weekend. With Christmas just four days away, the traffic was horrendous.
Three hours later he made it to the city. First on his list was the Hummer dealership, where he traded in the Jeep he'd bought for Kayla for a bright yellow Hummer. Eddie would love this.
Next, he drove downtown to the police station. He had already dropped the dogs off at a doggie spa for grooming, figuring by the time they were finished, he would be, too.
He was taking a chance, hoping to take advantage of his acquaintance with Kayla's former partner, Paul McCormick, who, he remembered, was a decent guy.
Luck was with him. According to the girl manning the front desk, Paul's shift had just ended. She paged him and told Max to have a seat.
“Max Jorgenson, good to see you,” Paul said when he saw him. “I couldn't imagine who it was when Kathy paged me. How are you?”
“Actually, I'm doing okay. Listen, I need a favor. I hate to ask you, but it's important, and I don't know who else I can trust.”
“Sure. Let's go to the break room. I can't guarantee the coffee, but it's private.”
“Great,” Max said.
Once they were seated, Paul poured them each a cup of coffee. Max sipped his, trying hard not to gag.
Paul got straight to the point. “So what can I do for you?”
“Have you ever heard of a woman's shelter called Hope House?”
Paul raised his eyebrows. “Everyone in law enforcement knows about it. It's one of the best-kept secrets in Gypsum. Why? Do you know someone who needs protection?”
“No, no, nothing like that. You see . . .” This wasn't as easy as Max thought it would be. It felt like a betrayal of Kayla. “The woman who runs the place, Grace Landry. What can you tell me about her?”
“Now wait a minute, Max, Grace Landry is as good as it gets. Just ask around. Whatever beef you have with her, I'll warn you, there's a thousand guys that'll come to her defense.”
“Look, Paul, I owe the woman a favor. She broke down on Blow Out Hill the other night. She had two little girls with her. I just need to find a way to contact her.”
“In my day, when a lady wanted any contact from a man, she usually gave him her phone number.”
“I have her number. Here.” Max removed the crumpled slip of paper that Grace had written her number on from his pocket. “I want to surprise her. I don't want to call her. Can you help me or not?” Max didn't like begging, but if he had to, in this instance he would.
“Remember the old Sutton Mansion in Gypsum? It was in the paper a few years ago, something about it being on the historical register.” Paul looked him squarely in the eye. “No one knows about this, Max. If word got out that it was a shelter, the women Grace works so hard to protect wouldn't stand a chance. There are a lot of angry husbands and boyfriends out there who would like nothing more than to see her shut down.”
“You have my word I won't tell a soul. Thanks, Paul. I really appreciate your going out on a limb for me.”
“Anytime.” Paul stood, and Max clasped his outstretched hand.
“Whenever you want to go skiing, take a ride up to Maximum Glide. Ask for Eddie and tell him to give you and your family anything you want.”
“Thanks, Max, I might just do that. Skiing is getting a bit pricey these days.”
Max laughed. “Don't I know it. Be careful out there.”
Max left the police station, picked up Ice-D and Cliff, who now smelled like strawberries and cream. There was one more stop Max needed to make on his way home.
He was going to buy a Christmas tree. He was sure the decorations were stored in the shed, along with everything else he'd packed away when he moved. Better yet, he'd buy all new decorations. He'd kept the ones Kayla had purchased packed away, but if he was going to make a fresh start, he might as well go all the way.
Three hours later, with two dogs that smelled like dessert, a fifteen-foot blue spruce strapped to the top of the Hummer, and six hundred dollars' worth of decorations, Max drove his new vehicle up the winding road heading for home.
Home. How strange it sounded to refer to his log cabin as
home
. He'd been living there for two years and never once thought of the place as anything other than a place to sleep, eat, shower, and drink. Funny, he hadn't even thought of taking a drink since Grace landed on his doorstep.
“That's a good thing, right, guys?” Max asked the two dogs.
“Woof, woof.”
Max let the dogs out and unloaded the Hummer. Once inside, he put the stand together, wrestled with the tree until he got it in the stand, then filled the stand with water and the package of stuff they'd given him to help the tree stay fresh longer. Both dogs barked at the front door.
“I'm having so much fun I forgot all about you guys.” Max stood aside as the two leapt through the door. Both cocked their heads to the side when they saw the giant tree in the center of the den. To prove they were still in control, both Huskies trotted over to the tree, where they lifted their hind legs and proceeded to piss all over it.
Max stared at the pair, shocked by their actions, then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard his sides hurt, and his eyes filled with tears.
“I take it you guys don't like the tree. Too bad 'cause it's staying. If you want to pee on it, be my guest, but you'd better not mess with the decorations. Or else.”
“Woof! Woof!”
Max strung the multicolored lights on the tree, then one by one he carefully placed the ornaments on the branches. Ice-D and Cliff were mesmerized when he turned all the room lights off and plugged in the tree lights. The giant log cabin instantly became a home. To honor the woman who'd been his wife, he'd bought a silver star and placed it on the front of the tree where he could see it. To honor the woman who'd given him his life back, he carefully placed a crystal snow angel next to the star.
Max stepped back to admire his handiwork. He gave a long whistle as he stared at his tree. This was a time for new beginnings, a time to start fresh. Kayla would want this for him, but more important, now he wanted it for himself.
It was about time he gave old
Bryce
a run for his money.
Chapter Eleven
Christmas Eve, 2008
Ten Minutes before Midnight
 
Grace had just turned off her bedroom light when she heard the doorbell ring. She dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt before quietly making her way downstairs. Thankful she had purchased two turkeys and a ham at the butcher shop that afternoon, she wondered how many more would join her for Christmas dinner.
Grace carefully punched in the numbers on the alarm panel before peering through a small hole at the top of the door. When she didn't see anyone, she opened her front door to see who was out there. Sometimes the women were afraid when they arrived. Grace understood this as she stepped out onto the porch in the frigid night air.
“Hello,” she called. “It's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of.” She waited a minute or so to see if anyone materialized from either side of the long porch that wrapped around the perimeter of the old house.
Wrapping her arms around her for warmth, she waited another minute before calling out again. “Is anyone there?” She didn't like this. Something wasn't right. Grace was about to step inside and call her contact at the police station when she heard someone call her name.
“Who's there?”
A large figure stepped out from behind the shadows of tall pine trees grouped in a corner on the side of the house. Fearing this was an angry husband or boyfriend Grace stood next to the front door with her completely charged cell phone in her hand. “I'm going to count to three. If you don't show yourself, I'm calling the police. One. Two—”
“It's me. Please don't call the police.”
Grace wasn't sure what was worse; being surprised by an angry man looking to beat his wife or an idiot who didn't have any social graces.
“Max Jorgenson, what are you doing here? Furthermore, how on earth did you find me?” Grace's hands shook, and her heart beat so fast she feared it would wear out before she had a chance to calm herself.
He stepped away from the shadows. The light coming from inside the house outlined his large frame. “Can I come inside? It's cold out here, plus I'm lost.”
Grace smiled, glad for the darkness. “I suppose I owe you this. Tell me you're not running from some crazed girlfriend before I let you inside,” Grace joked.
He stepped onto the porch, then followed her to the kitchen.
Grace turned the kitchen lights on, pointed to a chair. “Sit.”
Max obeyed.
“I'm going to make a pot of tea. I hope by the time it's ready you have a good explanation for coming all the way out here just to scare me half to death.” Grace was as good as her word. She filled two mugs with tap water, nuked them for three minutes, dunked a tea bag in each one, grabbed sugar and cream from the fridge.
“Okay, tell me why you're here.” She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Do you realize it's officially Christmas? I can't wait to see . . . never mind. Just tell me why you're here. And it better be good.”
Max smiled at her—a smile that actually reached his eyes. “This is probably the most outrageous thing I've ever done in my life.”
“It's not, trust me. I've seen your Alpine, downhill skiing.”
Max grinned. “Pretty wild, huh?”
“Bryce appreciates it much more than I do.”
Max clammed up. “Maybe coming here was a mistake. This . . .
Bryce
, I know it's none of my business, and you can tell me that, but before you do, there's something I need to say. Then if you still want me to leave, I will. No questions asked.”
“That's fair enough. Say what you came to say.” Grace took a deep breath trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart.
“Two years ago my wife was killed in the line of duty. She was a police officer, and she truly loved her work. She and her partner were called to the scene of a domestic dispute. The man had just beaten his wife and two-year-old daughter. When Kayla and her partner arrived at the house, the guy threatened to kill the child if they didn't back off. Kayla's partner Paul radioed in asking for a hostage negotiator. Knowing it would take time before they could get to the scene, Kayla spoke with the man, asking him to let the child go. She offered to exchange herself for the child. Apparently the deranged guy liked the idea of holding a female cop hostage. But when Kayla approached him, he must've changed his mind, something happened to scare him, I don't know, and her partner didn't either. Whatever the reason, he changed his mind. He shot Kayla twice in the chest, then put the gun in his mouth and shot himself. But at least the wife and child were safe. Paramedics got Kayla to the hospital, they even sent a patrol car to bring me to the hospital. By the time I got there, it was too late. She died, and when she died, everything in me died, too. I stopped eating, stopped socializing, I stopped everything. Then I started to drink. It never got out of hand, but it could have.” Max watched her to see her reaction.
“I remember now when that was on the news. I am so sorry, Max. I don't know what to say, or what it has to do with me.”
“You'll think I'm crazy when I tell you.”
Grace laughed. “No more so than I do right now. Go on.” She was used to listening to people. It's what she did.
“When you and the girls showed up on my doorstep the other night, I was angry. Not at you, but angry at myself. I was . . . hell, I was instantly attracted to you. I even thought of you as a snow angel.” He took a sip of the tea. “I felt incredibly guilty, too. There hasn't been anyone since Kayla. I'd buried myself in my grief for so long, I think I became comfortable with it. You and those two little girls reminded me that life is worth living. I even bought a Christmas tree with all the trimmings. Looks pretty good, too. Though the dogs didn't like it. Before I had even started with the decorating, they both pissed all over it.” Max laughed loudly.
Grace smiled. “Shame on them. I remember you telling me you didn't like the holidays. Is this why?”
Max nodded. “Kayla died on Christmas Eve, two years ago. She'd just found out she was pregnant.”
“Oh Max, how terrible for you! I'm so sorry.”
“Yes, I was too. More than I ever imagined. That first year was hard. Then it got a little easier, and when it did, I felt so guilty that I'd plunge myself right back into that dark place just to ease the feelings of guilt that I had for being alive.”
“It's called survivor's guilt and is quite common. Mother went through a period like that when my father died. She'd always been the one to catch everything from the flu to ear infections. My father never had a sick day in his life. He dropped dead of a massive heart attack while he was teaching a history class.”
“I guess you never get over it, you just learn to live with it.”
“That's true. We all have our own ways of dealing with grief. There's no right or wrong way, Max. Guilt is a terrible thing for those who are left behind.”
“Which brings me to the reason why I came here in the first place. Or one of them.”
“I'm listening,” Grace said.
“You're good at this stuff, but I suppose you already know that.”
“I've done it a time or two.”
“First tell me about Bryce.”
Grace's eyes lit up like the tree back at the cabin.
Home,
he corrected himself,
it's home now.
“He's absolutely wonderful. I can't imagine my life without him. We don't get to see one another as much as we used to, but we're okay with it. We talk on the phone whenever we can. Bryce isn't too good at answering his e-mail, but I'm sure once he gets settled into his new routine, he will. From what I understand, most colleges use their e-mail systems to communicate with their students. Bryce is going to teach history at the University of Colorado after the first of the year. He's very excited about his career.”
“I guess I don't stand a chance. A ski bum versus a college professor.”
“Max, Bryce is my
brother.
”
His eyes brightened like two blue moons. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I guess I just assumed you knew. When Bryce was in junior high school, he was one of your biggest fans. He followed your career, watched you win all those Olympic medals. For a while, Mom and I feared he might take to the slopes instead of going to college, but he's too much of a history buff, just like my father.”
“So does this mean I have a chance? A slight chance of asking you out on a date?”
Grace was so thrilled, everything around her blurred. “You can ask all you want, Max.”
“But you don't have to say yes. Am I right?”
“No, you're not. Listen, there's something I want to ask you. It's a bit . . . personal, but since you drove all the way here and on Christmas Day, there's no reason not to. When you kissed me, did you really mean what you said? That it was just a kiss?”
“That's the biggest lie I've ever told in my life. I wanted to wrap you in my arms, drag you upstairs, but I couldn't. It took a lot of soul-searching for me to realize that it's okay to be happy. That's why I'm here.”
“There's just one more thing,” Grace asked. “Do you think I'm practical?”
“You? Practical? No way. Not in the least. Though I have to admit I don't know you very well, but I intend to.”
“You're sure,” Grace teased.
“One hundred percent, cross my heart. Why do you ask?”
“Bryce told me I was practical, said it could be one of the reasons I've never settled down to raise a family.”
“Well, I'm going to have to tell your brother a thing or two. If you were practical, you'd be married with a houseful of kids. Where is he?”
“Actually, he's upstairs sleeping,” Grace said. “Follow me. No, never mind. Wait here. I'll be right back.”
Grace didn't bother knocking when she saw the light shining beneath his door. Shoving the door aside, Grace stepped into the room. Bryce was sitting up in bed, reading. “You ever heard of knocking?”
“Yes, but this is my house, remember?”
“So?”
“I have your Christmas present. It's in the kitchen.”
“And it's something that can't wait until everyone else is up?”
“No, actually it can't. If you don't want it, I can give him, I mean it, to someone who'll appreciate it.”
“All right, you're not going to give me a minute's peace until I see what you've cooked up. Oh crap, Gracie, is this about that cookbook you said you were giving me? Because if it is, I'll see it soon enough.”
“Bryce, march your ass downstairs to the kitchen right now. Don't ask me another question. Now go.”
“Okay, okay. Women,” he muttered as he slipped a T-shirt over his head.
Grace felt like a kid at Christmas. Max wanted to get to know her better. Bryce was about to get the surprise of his life. And it was going to be the best Christmas she'd ever had.
Max sat at the table sipping his tea when Bryce entered the kitchen. “Hey, Bryce, what's up?” he asked casually.
Bryce looked at Grace, then Max. “Tell me I'm not dreaming. Please.”
“See?” Grace said to Max. “I told you he was your biggest fan.”

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