Sleigh Bells Ring in Romance Page 7

  Most of the time Brent found homes for them, but a few had stayed. That was how the Rockin’ G came to be home to Donkey Kong, a sweet little donkey that was only supposed to be at their place for a week or two but found a permanent home with them. Doris had kept dozens of chickens over the years, and they’d even had an alpaca come through in the summer. Brooke would have kept it, but Blayne assured her it would be better off at the home Brent found for it with other alpacas.

  Doris spoke to Mary McKay, a woman she’d known for decades who was in charge of the annual A Christmas Carol production. Some of Mary’s grandchildren were in the play, and Doris was among the members of the Romance Christian Church Choir who would perform during the production.

  After bidding Mary a pleasant evening, Doris made her way over to where Brooke spoke with Jess. The man said something that made Brooke laugh and Doris couldn’t help but smile. Jess might be a royal pain, but he was a good man.

  Doris joined them at the same time Blayne stepped behind Brooke and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her back against him and kissed her cheek.

  “I smell cider and doughnuts. Did you save any for me?” Blayne asked, nuzzling his nose against Brooke’s neck.

  She held up her half-empty cup of cider and Blayne took a long drink. Doris handed him a doughnut and then they watched as the mayor moved in front of the microphone and made several announcements.

  Chase Lockhart took the stage and performed for a while. When he finished, they all waited for the big moment of the tree lighting.

  “I sure hope this works,” Blayne muttered a moment before the lights on the towering fir twinkled to life and everyone cheered.

  Doris clapped then patted Blayne on the back. “Good job, sweetie! The tree looks great.”

  “It does look nice,” Blayne said, “but we had plenty of good help.” He kissed Brooke’s cheek again.

  “I like the white lights and red ribbons,” Doris said, as she watched a few children race up and hang ornaments on the bottom branches of the tree. “Very festive.”

  “Anyone who wants can hang an ornament on the tree. Brooke and I are going to add one on our anniversary.” Blayne gave his wife a look filled with love then glanced back at Doris. “Did you bring one to hang on it, Grams?”

  “No. I haven’t decided what I want to put on the tree. I’ll hang one later, too.”

  “How about you, Jess. Do you plan to place an ornament on the tree?” Brooke asked.

  “I hadn’t given it a thought. Julia used to fuss about doing that and always found a perfect ornament to hang on it. I’ve entirely forgotten about the tradition.” Jess grew quiet and Doris wondered if he was thinking about his wife. Out of the bonds of grief that united them, she sidled closer to him and patted his hand as it rested on his walker in a gesture of understanding and sympathy.

  He turned his hand over and gently squeezed hers. An unreadable look on his face and eyes made her want to give him a hug, but she refrained. That might give the man entirely the wrong idea and she’d be back to calling him horrible names to keep him at bay.

  “How about sausages and some of those curly fries for dinner?” Blayne asked. “We can eat them and watch the crowd.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jess said, giving Doris another long look before turning toward Blayne. “But only if you let me buy. You all have done so much for me the past few weeks, it’s the least I can do.”

  Blayne looked like he wanted to refuse, but he finally nodded in agreement and took the money Jess held out to him.

  “Come on, glass girl, you can help me carry everything,” Blayne said, pulling Brooke along with him.

  “They sure make a handsome couple, Doris. When they get around to having kids, you might have to remodel the house, though. They’ll be as long legged as giraffes.”

  Doris nodded in agreement. “Blayne’s always been tall, and with Brooke at nearly six-feet I would be astonished if they have a short child.”

  “You started picking out baby names or planning how to decorate a nursery yet?” Jess asked in a teasing tone.

  “No. I’ll at least wait until they announce they’re expecting. If Santa Claus got my letter, that’s tops on my Christmas list.”

  Jess chuckled. “But you missed the part about being a very good girl to get on Santa’s nice list.”

  Doris glared at him and fisted her hands on her hips. “If taking care of a flat-footed old fuddy like you doesn’t earn me a permanent spot on that list, then nothing will.”

  Jess leaned over and kissed her cheek, much to Doris’s shocked surprise. “And here I thought you were doing it out of the goodness of your heart. Now I find out there are ulterior motives of trying to bribe Santa. Shame on you, Doris Grundy.”

  Doris couldn’t breathe let alone think. Jess leaned so close to her she could smell his shaving lotion blending with the intoxicating scent of him, which was warm, appealing, man. While most men she encountered their age smelled like arthritis cream or menthol, Jess always put her in mind of a western cologne advertisement.

  “Oh, no,” he whispered and stiffened.

  Doris looked up to see half a dozen women from her book club hustling toward them. They looked like a pack of wild dogs about to descend on a fresh slab of prime beef.

  Unaware of moving, Doris placed herself in front of Jess, protecting him from the advancing onslaught of wily widows.

  “Doris! How delightful to see you this evening! And you too, Mr. Milne,” purred Rosalind. That woman had convinced herself she was the object of every man’s desire fifty years ago and still held the same opinion, despite the fact time had marched onward even if she hadn’t. She dressed in outfits that had been out of style for decades, wore her hair in a style popular when Nixon was in office, and used what must have been a putty knife to apply thick sky blue eye shadow behind her mascara-clumped eyelashes. In spite of her fashion faux pas and sometimes questionable behavior, everyone put up with the woman. Rosalind’s rich husband had left her a substantial life insurance policy to go along with his fortune when he died. She poured a good amount of it into various charities and enterprises in Romance.

  The women literally pushed Doris out of the way to reach Jess. Starved for male attention, they encircled him in a cloud of stout perfume.

  “Is Doris taking good care of you, Mr. Milne?”

  “Do you need any help? I can give you a good back scrub in the bath.”

  “I’d be happy to move in and take care of you until you’re back on your feet.”

  The women batted their eyelashes and fawned over him.

  “If you need a little distraction from the pain, give me a call,” Rosalind said, slipping a card with her number into his coat pocket then brushing against his chest.

  “Ladies, how nice of you to stop by and say hello,” Blayne said, breaking into their midst. He carried a box of food while Brooke held another with drinks. “I hope you’ll excuse us while we eat. Food is best enjoyed hot, you know.” Blayne offered the women a charming smile before he moved to stand protectively in front of Jess.

  “Of course, Blayne, darling. We were just catching up with a dear old friend,” Daphne said, winking at Jess.

  Doris wanted to snatch off the woman’s Coke bottle-thick glasses and punch her in the eye.

  “Rein it in Grams,” Blayne whispered as he bent near her. He motioned to a table that had not yet been claimed. “Let’s go sit there.”

  He and Brooke hurried over to set the food down and save the table while Doris followed with Jess.

  “Those friends of yours are like…” Jess paused, as though he couldn’t quite come up with an accurate description.

  “Oh, just ignore them.” Doris certainly planned to. The reason they’d all made her mad and irrationally jealous never entered her mind as she and Jess sat down across from Blayne and Brooke at the table and ate their dinner.

  The air grew colder and Doris found herself scooting closer to Jess. Without thinking about what they
were doing, he slipped his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her against his side, sharing the heat radiating off his big body.

  Doris had the fleeting thought that it felt like she’d come home, but quickly pushed it away. Glen had been her everything — her husband, her friend, her confidante, her champion, her partner, her great love. It wasn’t fair to let anyone else into her heart when she’d promised he’d have hers until death parted them. Even if death had claimed him, she felt it only right to honor her vows until her death, too.

  But just for one evening, for an hour or two, she didn’t want to think about her determination to never love again. For now, for this decadent moment, she just wanted to rest in the friendship and warmth Jess so willingly offered.

  Blayne glanced at her once and smiled, then slipped his arm around Brooke, pulling her into the circle of his arms.

  They remained that way until the crowd tired of visiting and began to disperse.

  Blayne stood and looked down at Doris as he took Brooke’s hand in his.

  “Grams, do you mind driving Jess home? Since Brooke has her SUV here, I don’t want her to have to drive home alone.”

  “Well, I…” Doris studied her grandson and his wife, aware of the loving looks they exchanged. “Sure, honey. I’ll drive the SUV because I hate trying to reach the pedals in your pickup.”

  “Deal. I’ll go get the SUV and drive it up to the curb,” Blayne said, jogging across the street.

  Brooke walked on one side of Jess while Doris flanked the other, both of them keeping an eye out for the pack of man-hungry widows. Thankfully, they seemed enthralled with a group from the senior center who’d arrived and were sitting on the other side of the square.

  “The coast is clear,” Doris said quietly, making Brooke and Jess both laugh.

  Blayne pulled the SUV up next to a row of cars parked along the street and jumped out. He helped Jess inside, set his walker in the back, then kissed Doris’s cheek.

  “Don’t get home past your bedtime, Grams.”

  She reached up and pinched his cheek. “Oh, go on with you!”

  Blayne laughed and walked over to Brooke, placing his hand possessively at the small of her back as they meandered into the midst of the festivities.

  “They really are good kids,” Jess said as Doris moved up the seat and adjusted the height of it before she carefully pulled into the traffic.

  “They are good kids.” She turned onto a side street to avoid the line of cars on Main Street and drove through a few residential areas. Many homes already had lights up, twinkling in a rainbow of colors against the dark night sky.

  Jess sighed. “I haven’t driven around and looked at lights for years. Do you think that house over on…”

  Doris turned down a side street before he could finish his statement. They drove past a stately home where lights dripped off the eaves and covered all the bushes and trees.

  “It’s as amazing as I remember,” Jess said, staring out the window as Doris stopped in the street. No traffic was coming either direction, so they remained there a few moments pointing out the various lawn ornaments that had been added in recent years.

  Jess laughed when she drove a few streets over and stopped in front of a home known for its wacky themed decorations. One year, they’d decorated their yard with a red-nosed reindeer and abominable snowman. Another year, they had Bigfoot terrorizing a herd of reindeer.

  This year, it appeared they were going with a Grinch theme. The lawn looked like it had been vandalized, with ornaments tossed on their sides and hanging upside down. In the back, by the house, with a spotlight shining on him, was an illuminated life-size Grinch figure, holding two extension cords, as though he was about to unplug them.

  “Where do they come up with this stuff?” he asked, still grinning as they drove away.

  “I don’t know, but it’s always fun to see.”

  Doris headed out of town toward home. Even though it was cold, the roads were clear and it didn’t take long until she was pulling up by the back door at Jess’s place.

  “Thanks for driving me home,” Jess said, opening his door, but not sliding out.

  Much to Doris’s surprise, he reached across the seat and cupped her cheek with his big, rough hand. That touch, so unexpected, so comforting yet invigorating, left her thoroughly discombobulated and wanting more. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like that and she craved it. Craved the love and closeness she’d enjoyed so many years with Glen.

  Jess pulled his hand back, gave her a rakish grin, then stepped out and retrieved his walker from the back seat.

  “Thanks again for the ride,” he said, then closed the back door of the SUV and made his way up the porch steps.

  Doris waited to leave until she saw him flick on the kitchen lights and wave out the window.

  Despite her determination to keep Jess from infiltrating the walls she’d built around her heart, he was perilously close to plowing right through them.

  And that was something she couldn’t allow to happen, no matter how much she wanted him to turn those walls to dust.

  Chapter Eight

  Jess leaned on his cane as he reached down and scratched Pigtails along her back. The little piglet grunted and twisted, clearly wanting him to get to a spot he hadn’t yet reached. Unable to hunker down and give her the attention she obviously craved, Jess made his way to where a small bale of hay sat in the barn aisle.

  “Jump up here, baby,” Jess said, patting the top of the bale.

  Pigtails squealed and turned in a circle three times before rubbing against his leg and grunting again, little curly tail switching back and forth like the rod on a metronome.

  “Come on, Pigtails. Jump right on up here.” Jess patted the hay again.

  One of the ranch dogs ran in the barn and leaped on the bale, squirming and slobbering as Jess lavished it with pets and belly scratches.

  Pigtails, clearly jealous of the attention Rooster received, squealed again then launched her little body at the bale.

  Jess reached down and gave her a boost. The dog licked her face then hopped down and raced back out of the barn when one of the ranch hands called for him.

  Pigtails wiggled her bottom, tail bouncing, as Jess pet her. “You’re just a sweet lil’ gal, aren’t you, Pigtails. Yes, you are. A sweet lil’ baby. Are you my best girl? Oh, I think you are.”

  “Well, that’s just a shame to hear,” a familiar voice said from the doorway, startling him.

  He turned and watched Blayne Grundy walk toward him. Jess recalled years ago when Blayne’s voice had changed. Seemingly overnight, he’d gone from a squeaky adolescent to having a deep gravel-laced voice that sounded like it belonged on a sixty-year-old man who’d spent his life chain-smoking. He knew that voice had driven more than a few girls to distraction during Blayne’s teen years.

  Although Doris probably didn’t know it, Blayne hadn’t been the angelic child she’d always thought him to be. He’d gotten into a little trouble in high school, pulling pranks and doing stupid things a group of sixteen-year-old boys tended to do when they got together and had a few illegal drinks.

  One night, Jess and Julia had just gone to sleep when the phone rang. Blayne was calling from the police station. He’d been picked up in a car full of boys who’d been drinking and racing a pickup full of hooligans from a neighboring town.

  Blayne had begged Jess to come get him and not tell his grandparents. Since the boy hadn’t done anything like it before, Jess went and got him then burned his ears all the way back to the ranch. Rather than drive him all the way home, he made him walk from the road up the long driveway of the Rockin’ G. He figured the hike gave Blayne time to think about what he’d done as well as the promise he wrangled out of the boy to never again be that stupid.

  True to his word, Blayne had shaped right up. Jess had never told Doris or Glen he’d been the one to keep their grandson from spending the night in jail. Something about that night had established a link
between Jess and Blayne that had only deepened over the years. Jess thought of Blayne as a grandson, not just a neighbor.

  “What are you doing over here? Don’t you have enough work at home to keep you from harassing me?” he asked the man.

  Blayne chuckled and picked up Pigtails, giving her a good scratching on her back and belly before setting her on the hay bale. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned against a stall door.

  “The fact you consider the pig your best girl might just be why Grams is at home in a cranky mood. Don’t tell me you’ve given up on her already? Or should I say again?”

  Jess glared at him and walked into the stall where they kept Pigtails. The piglet followed him. He dropped a carrot into her food bowl then walked out while she was busy with the treat and shut the door, firmly latching it.

  “Come on up to the house and have a cup of coffee,” Jess said, limping past Blayne. Together, they made their way up the back-porch steps and into the kitchen.

  They both hung up their coats and washed their hands. Jess took down two mugs then Blayne filled them both with coffee and carried them to the table. When they both were seated, Jess took a sip of the coffee and looked at the young man. “What do you suggest I do? I can’t exactly sweep your grandmother off her feet.”

  “I know that, but Grams seemed about as happy as I’ve seen her in a long time when she thought you needed her help. Now that you’re walking with the cane and can drive yourself again, she’s been as out of sorts as a sore-footed pack mule at the end of a trail ride.”

  “That’s cranky,” Jess said, grinning at Blayne. “I’d be more than happy to have her come over every day and bring food, like she was before. I purely hate eating my own cooking, I don’t care for the stuff Janet left, and I can’t exactly show up at your place three times a day at meal-time. Doris has made it abundantly clear she’s not interested in being anything but friends. I can’t force her to care about me.”