Read Online Free Book

8 Sandpiper Way

Page 34


“Dad…and a camel?”

Pete’s eyebrows shot up and Linnette sent him a smile.

“Camels can be nasty. I don’t think anyone but your father could handle him.”

“I hear they spit and bite,” Linnette said, enjoying this.

“Oh, yes. You heard right.” She paused. “Gloria and I laughed ourselves silly.”

“Dad must’ve been seriously annoyed.” The image of her father in robe and sandals struggling with a recalcitrant camel almost made her rethink the possibility of going home.

“We were going to surprise you,” her mother was saying in that wistful tone.

“Promise me you’ll take lots of pictures.”

“I will. In fact, I bought myself an early Christmas gift—a digital camera. I can even take movies. Your dad’s showing me how it works.” Linnette knew that her father, as a private investigator, had used one for years.

“I’ll e-mail you a movie of the Nativity scene. Or,” she added dryly, “I’ll get Roy to send it for me.”

“Mom, please do. I want to see it all.” Linnette suddenly felt more homesick than she had the entire time she’d been here. This would be her first Christmas away from her family.

“What’ll you do about Christmas if you won’t be home?” her mother asked.

Linnette turned to Pete and apologized that this conversation was taking so long. She gestured for him to continue eating his lunch, which he did. “I’m spending the day with Hassie Knight. We’ll make a small dinner and play cards.” Hassie owned Knight’s Pharmacy and was the inspiration behind the medical clinic. She’d formed a committee that included Linnette and several local businesspeople; they were working with state agencies and applying for a grant.

“You won’t be with Pete?”

“I doubt it, Mom. He has his own family.”

“You’ve mentioned him quite a few times now. But I’m glad to see you’re sensible enough not to get serious about this farmer.”

“It’s too soon.” She didn’t have to say any more than that; her mother knew what she meant. Linnette’s relationship with Cal Washburn was over, and she didn’t need a rebound romance. The last news she’d received was that Cal and Vicki were now married and had moved to Wyoming. She wished them every happiness—and she was sincere in that.

The funny thing was, she didn’t feel any lingering pain over losing Cal. In retrospect, their break-up was probably for the best. She and Cal had been too different in both their interests and expectations. She’d loved him, and she’d been devastated when he ended the relationship, but as with most life experiences, Linnette had learned valuable lessons.

“Cal’s in Wyoming,” her mother said, as if reading Linnette’s thoughts.

“I know,” she said without emotion. “How’s Judge Griffin doing?” she asked, moving to another subject. During their previous conversation, her mother had told her that Olivia had suffered a medical setback.

“Much, much better. She’s home from the hospital and the infection’s under control.”

“I’m so glad.”

“It’s been very hard for her husband,” Corrie said. “Oh,” she added, “speaking of Jack Griffin, he wrote a hilarious piece on the Nativity scene. There was a practice with the animals—they’re being kept at Cliff Harding’s place,” she said quickly, and Linnette suspected she was worried about referring to Cliff’s ranch, since Cal had lived and worked there, and Linnette would always associate it with him.

“Send me the article, okay, Mom?”

“I will.” Her mother sighed again. “I do wish you could come for Christmas.”

“Mom, please. Don’t make me feel worse.” Any more of this and she’d start to cry. “The airfare is outrageous and it isn’t safe for me to be driving all that way by myself in winter.” She looked out the window, her gaze falling on a two-foot-high bank of snow.

“Your father and I will pay for your ticket.”

The offer was tempting, but Linnette couldn’t let them do that. “No, Mom, I’m an adult. I’ll be home for a visit soon.”

“A visit,” her mother repeated slowly, her meaning clear. Corrie wanted Linnette to move back to Cedar Cove, especially now that Cal and Vicki were gone.

The truth was that Linnette hadn’t once considered doing so. She’d found solace in this small Dakota town. When she’d graduated as a physician assistant, it had always been her goal to use her medical skills in an out-of-the-way area, some rural community where the need was greatest.

Her parents, particularly her mother, had been unhappy when she left her job at the medical clinic in Cedar Cove. But more than ever, Linnette realized it’d been the right thing to do.

“Tell me how you’re spending Christmas Day,” Linnette said.

“We’re going to open gifts around ten. I suppose I can mail yours, although I don’t know if they’ll reach you in time.”

“Mom, thank you, but I don’t need anything.”

“Do you have an apartment now?”


Linnette nearly laughed out loud. Never having seen Buffalo Valley, her mother couldn’t begin to guess what this place was like. Until recently, she’d lived in a small room on the second floor of Three of a Kind. “There aren’t any apartments here, Mom. At the moment I’m renting a room from Hassie.”

“A room?”

“It works out well for both of us.” If everything went as she hoped, Linnette would have living quarters at the medical clinic. The state needed to approve all this, of course. The house they planned to use, which had been vacant for several years, would require a lot of renovation. Once the funding approval came through, at least twenty men and women—even teenagers—were ready, willing and able to tackle the project.

“You left a lovely apartment here,” Corrie said. “One with a great view.”

“But Mack told me he’s moving in! You must be pleased about that. And speaking of Mack, is there anyone special in his life these days?”

Her mother exhaled. “Not anyone he’s mentioned, but then you know your brother—he’s pretty tight-lipped about anything personal.”

“True,” Linnette said. She’d have to have a conversation with him soon, see what she could ferret out. “Listen, Mom, I’d better go.”

Her mother tried one more time. “Are you positive you won’t let your father and me buy you an airline ticket home?”

“I’m positive. I’ll call on Christmas Day, Mom.”

“It won’t be the same,” Corrie muttered.

“I know.”

They said goodbye and Linnette closed her cell phone, setting it on the table.

“Your mother’s awfully disappointed, isn’t she?” Pete asked, his blue eyes studying her. “And so are you.”

Linnette shrugged, wanting to make light of her own disappointment. “It’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. I don’t have to rush home to my family for the holidays.”

“But you’d like to be there, right?”

“Well, of course.” She picked up her bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich, but her appetite had vanished. Putting it back on her plate, she shoved it aside, leaving the bag of potato chips untouched.

Elbows on the table, Linnette surveyed the restaurant with its handful of customers. She knew it well; after all, Buffalo Bob Carr had hired her when she ended up in this town, low on cash and looking for a place to stay.

Now that she was here, however, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Not even Cedar Cove.

Bob came out from the kitchen, wearing a stained white apron. “The cream of mushroom soup’s ready, Pete, if you’re still interested.”

“Sure thing,” Pete called back.

“You can finish my sandwich if you want,” Linnette told him. Pete was six-three and had a hearty appetite.

“No, thanks. You should have it.”

Bob carried out a large bowl of soup, which he deposited in front of Pete. He glanced at Linnette. “You okay?” he asked with a concerned frown.

“Of course…I’m just not hungry.”

“It isn’t your lack of appetite that worries me. It’s the miserable look on your face,” he said bluntly.

“I am not miserable,” she said and then, to prove her point, she smiled up at him. “It’s December. Christmas is around the corner. How can I possibly be blue?”

“You’ve heard of ‘Blue Christmas,’ haven’t you?” Buffalo Bob asked. “Elvis sang that for a reason.”

“You ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,’ Bob,” she bantered back.

“Yeah, you too,” he said with a grin. “But seriously, Linnette—”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Bob’s physical appearance led strangers to assume he was a biker. He was a burly man who always wore jeans and a leather vest over a short-sleeved T-shirt. His thin hair was tied in a ponytail that hung nearly to the middle of his back. He might seem menacing, but as Linnette had immediately discovered, he had a huge heart. Watching him with his wife, Merrilee, and their three kids had told her exactly what kind of person he was.

Pete finished his sandwich and soup and reached for the bill. “My treat.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a little chagrined. She hadn’t been good company, especially with her mother phoning in the middle of their lunch. She realized a lengthy conversation at a restaurant was rude, but she couldn’t seem to do much about it. Pete, however, didn’t take offense easily.

“I’d better get that part my brother needs and head back to the farm,” he said.

He’d driven the hour into town to pick up a tractor part Dennis Urlacher had ordered for them. Linnette knew he jumped at any excuse to come to town—because of her. Frankly she enjoyed his visits. Pete had made his feelings plain and she felt comfortable with him. It was too soon to make a commitment, although she sensed he’d like that. They were still in the getting-to-know-you stage, and Linnette was in absolutely no rush to leap into another relationship as intense as the one she’d had with Cal.

“The movie’s changing this weekend,” Pete said. He pulled his wallet out of his hip pocket and placed twenty dollars on the table. “Are you interested? I’ll buy you the biggest popcorn they have.”

“You don’t need to bribe me, Pete. I’d love to go to the movie.” The theater only had one screen, unlike the multiplex in Cedar Cove, and the movies were often second-run, weeks if not months behind the major markets. When she’d first moved to town, Linnette had been amused to see the theater playing shows that were just a week or two from being released on DVD.

Pete’s grin was as big as if she’d announced he’d won the state lottery. “I’ll pick you up at Hassie’s around six.”
PrevPage ListNext