Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (126 page)

Currently they had two guests, who seemed to be a couple,
although they had their own rooms. Beth Morehouse's ex and…Diana? No, Danielle.
It wasn't unusual to have guests over the Christmas holidays, although Peggy
would've preferred to close, but as Bob said, they couldn't turn down business.
Christmas or not, they had rooms to rent. She could guarantee that the Christmas
morning buffet would be something Kent Morehouse and his friend would long
remember.

Humming a Christmas carol to herself, Peggy glanced out the
kitchen window and saw her husband pull into the driveway. He'd run a few
errands for her. A couple of minutes later, she glanced outside again, wondering
why he hadn't come in.

Just then the door opened. Bob knocked the snow off his boots
as he entered the house, a big grin on his face. By nature her husband was an
upbeat, happy person, always sociable, which was one reason their B and B was
successful. Peggy tended to remain in the background, creating the meals, while
Bob provided the warm welcome and the entertainment.

“What took so long?” she asked, pausing to kiss him and take
the bags out of his hands.

“You should see the grocery store. There wasn't a cart to be
had.”

“Christmas Eve…what did you expect?”

“Everyone seems to leave the shopping until the last
minute—even my wife.” He kissed her cheek but not before Peggy saw him swipe a
cookie.

Bob reached for a date bar and she returned his sheepish smile
with an approving grin. She had plenty to spare and, after his trek to the
store, Bob deserved a reward.

“Do you have one for Roy and Corrie?” Bob asked, surveying the
kitchen counter and the row of finished plates.

“Of course.”

“Troy and Faith Davis?”

“Bob, you know I do. What makes you ask?”

“Just wanted to be sure. I saw Faith shopping and Corrie was
coming into the store as I was leaving.” Bob poured himself a cup of coffee and
sat on the kitchen stool, watching as Peggy put the final touches on the gifts,
adding small handmade cards. These cards were another gift. Each included a
personal note thanking the recipients for their friendship.

“I'm so thankful to Roy,” she said fervently. “Who knows what
would've happened if he hadn't been willing to take us on as clients.” The
private investigator had stepped in at a crucial time in their lives.

“Troy Davis, too,” Bob reminded her.

“Oh, yes.”

The memory of those painful days took over her thoughts for a
moment. A stranger had arrived late one night in the middle of a storm,
rain-drenched and seeking a room. Bob hadn't recognized the man but had
sensed…something. He'd had a bad feeling about him. Peggy, however, couldn't
turn someone away in the middle of a downpour. In retrospect, she wished she'd
listened to her husband, because the next morning the man was dead.

“I know what you're thinking,” Bob said, sipping his
coffee.

“So now you're a mind reader, too?” she asked with a smile. Her
husband did possess multiple talents—including acting and singing—but she had
serious doubts regarding his psychic abilities.

“After all these years I can read you like a
People
magazine,” he joked right back. “It's about Max
Russell, isn't it?”

She could pretend otherwise but didn't. “Yes. I was remembering
the night he showed up and how you didn't want to give him a room.”

“That night was a turning point for me,” Bob admitted. “The
start of healing. I was finally able to lay what happened in 'Nam to rest.”

Bob and his best friend from high school, Dan Sherman—who'd
married Grace—had enlisted in the army together under the buddy program.
Following basic training they'd been sent to Vietnam. Max had been part of their
unit.

The war changed all three men. An incident involving the deaths
of innocent civilians had haunted them.

For years Dan Sherman had struggled with depression. When he
was in that state of mind, he'd block out family and friends, isolating himself
from the world.

After the war Bob had turned to alcohol for solace. Their
marriage suffered, and more than once Peggy decided to leave him, taking their
son and daughter. Each time Bob convinced her he'd give up drinking and be the
husband she deserved. He'd tried, but with limited success. After a few weeks of
sobriety Bob would return to the bottle. He hit bottom after losing a promising
job, and that was when he went into rehab. Thankfully, he came out a different
person. He hadn't had a drink since that day more than twenty years ago. Or was
it twenty-five? She no longer kept count of the years. Each day was a victory,
each day a blessing.

“I mailed Hannah a Christmas card,” Peggy confessed. Even now,
knowing what she did about the young woman, Peggy had a soft spot for her
despite the grief she'd caused them both.

Hannah was the dead man's daughter and, in fact, had been
responsible for his murder.

“Did she write back?”

“No.” Peggy knew it was highly unlikely that Hannah would
acknowledge the card. That was fine. Perhaps it was for the best.

“You really came to care for her, didn't you?”

“Well, yes, but…” Peggy had mixed feelings about the woman.
Hannah had attempted to steer blame for the murder toward Bob, and that was
unforgivable in Peggy's eyes. Still, the poor girl had lived a hard life with a
father tortured by the past. Max took his self-hatred out on Hannah and her
mother. Hannah's mind became as twisted as her father's, and as far as she was
concerned, he deserved to die.

She'd tried to kill him once before and, to Hannah's horror,
her beloved mother had died instead. Her father had survived the car accident,
which made Hannah's hatred of him even greater. She had deeply loved her mother
and to lose her when she'd so carefully planned to kill Max had nearly destroyed
her. Hannah redoubled her efforts to make her father pay.

Again Bob's instincts had been on target. From the first he
hadn't trusted Max's daughter, who'd shown up at their home after her father's
death. Although he wasn't able to identify exactly what he disliked about
Hannah, he'd made his feelings clear. Hannah had avoided him as much as
possible. It wasn't until much later that they understood why.

“I'll be forever grateful those days are gone,” Bob murmured,
still sipping his coffee.

“Me, too,” Peggy agreed. “You're free now. The past is over and
the future is bright.”

“I'm a lucky man,” Bob said.

Nevertheless, those memories were all too vivid, all too
real.

“Hey, why so melancholy?” Bob said, tipping up her chin with
his index finger. “We have a lot to celebrate. Hollie and Marc will be here this
afternoon and we'll have a real family Christmas.”

Peggy instantly brightened. Their children were coming for the
holidays and spending a few days. To have both of them there was a rare treat.
Their family had healed in the past few years.

Hollie and Marc had grown up in the volatile atmosphere created
by their father's problems with alcohol. As much as possible, Peggy had shielded
them. It'd taken her years of Al Anon meetings to straighten out her own
thinking. Without realizing what she was doing, Peggy had enabled Bob in his
drinking. Once she'd stepped aside and allowed him to deal with the consequences
of his actions, he was forced to admit that he had a problem.

Those years of struggle had taken a heavy toll. It was only
since the move to Cedar Cove that Hollie and Marc were willing to have a
relationship with their father. Both were professionals, married but without
children. Peggy envied her friends their grandchildren but, so far, her own kids
had shown no interest in starting families. Peggy had accepted the situation and
was content to lavish affection on her friends' grandchildren, especially those
of her best friend, Corrie McAfee.

“We'd better head out with those gift plates soon, don't you
think?” Peggy said. She wanted to be home when the children arrived with their
spouses.

“Anytime now.”

“Everything's just about ready,” she said, and finished the
last of the gift cards with a flourish.

Bob put his cup in the sink and walked into the large family
room, where they'd set up the Christmas tree. “I have an early present for
you.”

“Oh?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

He looked pleased with himself. “Actually, your gift's in the
garage.”

“Bob,” Peggy breathed. They'd discussed buying her a new
vehicle, but she'd assumed she'd be making the choice. “You bought me a
car?”

Bob laughed. “Sorry. That's a natural assumption but no, it
isn't a car. I hope you aren't disappointed.”

“Of course not, but I am somewhat curious as to why this can't
wait until morning.”

“Well… This is the type of gift we'd generally talk about in
advance.”

She couldn't imagine what he was talking about. “Give me a
clue.”

“Remember the other day when we were at the library?”

“Of course…but what's that got to do with anything?” Peggy
couldn't recall anything special taking place. They'd dropped off books and
picked up others. Both were big readers and loyal library patrons.

“Remember the children reading to the dogs?”

“Well, yes, Grace told me about the program. It seems to be
doing well.”

“Largely thanks to Beth Morehouse, the woman who owns the
Christmas tree farm.”

“Where we bought our tree,” she said, certain Bob would clarify
everything in a moment. Her husband had a flair for drama, which was one reason
he volunteered at the local theater. Over the years Bob had appeared in a number
of productions, everything from musicals to
Death of a
Salesman.
It was his creative outlet the same way gardening and
cooking were hers.

“I'm sure there's a point to all this,” she said, urging him to
explain.

“There is.”

“Wonderful. Might I suggest you get back to my Christmas gift
that's currently being stored in the garage?”

“You'll see.”

“I'm waiting with bated breath,” she returned, smiling.

“Stay here.”

“Okay,” Peggy said. “Do you want me to close my eyes?”

Bob paused at the back door and nodded. “Good idea. Close your
eyes.”

Peggy sat at the kitchen table with one hand on her coffee mug
and the other in her lap and squeezed her eyes shut. She wondered if her gift
was what had kept Bob in the garage so long after he'd driven home. After a
couple of minutes she heard him come in.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Just a second.”

Her husband's footsteps echoed as he moved toward the Christmas
tree. “All right,” he called out. “You can open your eyes now.”

Peggy did, and then blinked. Beneath the tree, surrounded by
wrapped gifts, sat a basket, one she kept in the garage and often took into the
garden. Bedded down inside was…a puppy. A small black puppy.

Peggy didn't know if she should laugh or cry. “You got me a
puppy?
”

“I was thinking we could use a dog,” Bob said.

“But a puppy?” she said, unsure of her feelings.

“Look at her, Peggy, she's so cute. I couldn't resist. We need
a dog, and Beth Morehouse has a litter of ten she needs to find homes for.”

“So
that
was the connection with
Beth and the library. You volunteered,” she said. “Obviously.”

“Well, yes…”

“You'll train her?”

“If you want, but she's your dog. You're happy about this,
aren't you?”

The puppy raised her head and regarded Peggy with large doleful
eyes.

“What do you want to name her?” Bob asked, lifting the tiny
squirming creature out of the basket and bringing her to Peggy.

The puppy immediately made herself at home in Peggy's arms.
“Let's name her…Millie.”

“Millie, it is,” Bob said. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, darling. And Merry Christmas, Millie.”

Millie barked, adding her own greetings.

Nine

“L
et's go for a sleigh ride,” Bailey said
excitedly, as if this was the most brilliant idea of the century. “Can we, Mom?”
She clasped both hands. “I mean, now that Gloria and Chad have picked up the
puppy…”

“Ah…” Beth hesitated as a sense of dread filled her. Every
minute with Kent and Danielle felt more awkward than the one before.

“Mom, we should. Dad's never seen the Christmas tree farm.”
Sophie was as animated as her sister.

“You want to, don't you, Dad?” Bailey asked, hurrying to her
father's side and slipping her arm through his.

“That way Danielle can breathe some fresh air and not have to
worry about sneezing,” Sophie said in a solicitous voice.

Beth didn't dare look at her ex-husband. She had to believe he
was as miserable as she was. This entire family Christmas was a disaster. She'd
seen the expression on his face when she'd so vehemently declared Danielle was
welcome to him. Shock and pain had flashed in his eyes so quickly she wasn't
even sure she'd read his feelings correctly. Everything inside her cried out to
take the words back, swear that none of it was true. But she couldn't do that.
Not with Danielle standing right there.

“Danielle probably isn't up to this,” Kent said with an
unmistakable lack of enthusiasm.

Beth figured the other woman would willingly return to the
Thyme and Tide. She couldn't be enjoying the afternoon any more than Beth was.
The only ones who seemed to derive any pleasure from this fiasco were Bailey and
Sophie, who were apparently oblivious to the tension in the room.