Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (116 page)

As soon as he'd mentioned that Rachel would be with them, Jolene had grabbed her cell phone and started texting.

“Who're you texting?” he asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat.

“Carrie.”

“Do I know Carrie?”

“Dad, she was over yesterday.”

“She was?” Bruce didn't remember seeing anyone at the house.

“Well, she might've left before you got home from work.”

“Oh.” Bruce wasn't keen on his thirteen-year-old daughter coming home to an empty house. He'd felt much better about it when Rachel lived with them. For one thing, Rachel had a day off during the week; for another, she was diligent about keeping in touch with Jolene after school. But there was no alternative as long as Rachel lived in Bremerton.

She was standing by the totem pole when Bruce pulled
up. He waited for Jolene to get out of the front seat and go to the back. Instead, she stayed where she was.

“Jolene,” he said impatiently. “Give Rachel that seat.”

Rachel had already opened the rear door and slipped inside. “It's okay,” she murmured.

She didn't sound like herself but before Bruce could say anything, Jolene said, “Rachel doesn't care.”

Bruce's happy mood was quickly whirling downward, but he had to choose his battles carefully and there were bigger ones to wage. So he dropped the issue.

He turned on the radio, which played Christmas music, and soon both he and Jolene were humming along. Rachel didn't join in. He glanced into the backseat and she offered him a tentative smile, which he returned. Still, he sensed that something wasn't right.

When they arrived at Beth Morehouse's farm on Christmas Tree Lane, Jolene was the first one out of the car. Beth served hot cocoa while her crew directed customers to various areas, depending on the type and size of Christmas tree they wanted. His daughter got in line for her cup of cocoa.

When Bruce came around to open Rachel's door, she had her hands over her stomach and was deathly pale.

“Are you okay?” he asked anxiously.

She gave him the same tentative smile she had earlier. “I think so. I had a bad night, but I'm a little better this morning.”

“What's wrong?” He was growing concerned.

“Nothing…I'm just under the weather.”

“You should've stayed home,” he said, crouching beside the car.

“Is everything all right, Dad?” Jolene raised a cup of hot cocoa at him.

“I wanted to be with you and Jolene,” Rachel said.
“I've been looking forward to this all week. I've never cut my own tree before. It sounds like fun.”

“Dad!” Jolene again.

Bruce glanced over his shoulder.

“You go ahead,” Rachel said. “I'll stay in the car.”

Reluctantly he stood. He didn't feel good about leaving her alone, especially if she was ill. The farm took up quite a few acres and he could be away as long as an hour, searching for the perfect tree.

Jolene joined him and looked anxiously at Rachel. “You okay?”

“I'll be fine in a little while. You two go on.”

“You sure?” Jolene asked. “You can come, really. I don't mind.”

Rachel smiled. “I appreciate it, but I'm just not feeling that well.”

“I don't think we should leave you,” Bruce said.

“I'll be fine,” Rachel insisted again. “I'll be here when you get back. Now go.”

Still, Bruce hesitated, worried about her pale, clammy skin and obvious discomfort. In the end he and Jolene went in search of a tree, only his heart wasn't in it. Halfway up the hill, he stopped.

“Dad?”

“I'm going back.”

“Do we have to?” Jolene asked, clearly disappointed.

“Rachel is my wife,” he told his daughter. “There's something wrong. I can feel it. You can go on by yourself if you want to. I'm taking Rachel to the doctor or the hospital or whatever she needs. I'm sorry our day got ruined, but Rachel's more important than a Christmas tree.”

Jolene nodded, biting her bottom lip.

“Do you want to come with me?”

“I don't know yet.” She turned back and walked over to another tree.

Bruce wasn't waiting. He headed toward the road, moving quickly. The scent of cut evergreens mingled with the soft mist falling, but he barely noticed. By the time he reached the parking lot he was running. At some point he'd realized that Jolene was right behind him.

Once he was at the car, he jerked open the back door to find Rachel curled up in the backseat. She looked at him and sobbed. “I think you'd better get me to the hospital.”

“Is it the baby?” Jolene asked over his shoulder, her voice frightened.

Rachel didn't answer, and Bruce saw tears streaking her face. A sense of urgency filled him as he raced around the car and jumped into the front seat. Jolene threw herself in beside him and slammed the door.

“Hurry, Dad!” she cried. “Please hurry.”

How they made it to the Bremerton hospital without causing an accident or getting a ticket, Bruce didn't know. He roared to a stop at the emergency entrance and dashed inside.

“My wife is pregnant and needs help!”

A minute later, Rachel was whisked onto a stretcher and into an exam room, where she was seen by a physician.

“Is the baby going to be okay?” Jolene asked him, sounding as worried as Bruce.

He paced the waiting area restlessly, wondering how long this would take. “I don't know. I just don't know.”

“Oh, Daddy, I'm so scared.”

He was, too, but for his daughter's sake tried to act confident and composed.

An eternity passed before the doctor came into the waiting room and called for Bruce. Jolene went with him.

“Your wife has food poisoning,” the doctor explained. “As far as we can tell, it was something she ate yesterday afternoon. It isn't serious but she's badly dehydrated. We'd like to keep her overnight.”

“And the baby?”

“Your child appears to be fine.”

“Thank God.” Bruce closed his eyes, so grateful for his wife's health and his child's that it felt as if his knees might go out from under him. He slumped into a chair.

Jolene sat down next to him. “Why did Rachel come with us if she was sick?” she asked.

Bruce placed his arm around his daughter's shoulders. “Because she wanted to be with us—to do something together as a family. Rachel never had this opportunity as a child. Her aunt didn't ever buy a tree. At Christmas she gave Rachel money and had her buy her own gift.”

Jolene dropped her head. “I'm sorry, Dad.”

“I know.”

“Can I get Rachel some flowers and apologize?”

Bruce squeezed her shoulders. “Flowers are a nice idea, but what's more important to Rachel, and to me, is bringing her and the baby into our family. That's where they belong.”

Jolene considered this over for a moment and then nodded. “At first, when I was afraid Rachel was in labor, I thought she might lose the baby. I'm looking forward to when the baby comes and I felt sick inside because I know it's too early.”

“We could have lost more than the baby,” he said, pressing his cheek against Jolene's hair. “We could have lost Rachel.”

She covered her face with both hands and started to
weep. Her shoulders heaved convulsively as she buried her face in Bruce's side and gave way to her tears. “I'm so sorry,” she gulped. “So sorry.”

He patted her back and whispered soothing words. He'd give anything to make things right between his wife and his daughter. Counseling had helped a little, but for every step forward they seemed to take two back.

After several minutes of comforting Jolene, Bruce stood and approached the nurses' station. “Can I see my wife?” he asked.

“Yes, I'll take you and your daughter back. We're getting her a bed right now. It shouldn't be long.”

“Thank you.” Bruce and Jolene followed the woman to a cubicle, where Rachel lay on a gurney. She was on her side, doubled up in almost the same position as she'd been in the backseat of the car. An IV bottle was attached to her arm.

“Rachel,” Jolene whispered, touching her hand.

Rachel's eyes fluttered open. “Hi,” she whispered back, and attempted a smile.

“The doc says they want to keep you overnight,” Bruce said, putting his hand on her forehead, needing to touch her, needing reassurance that she was going to be all right. Rachel and their baby.

“I'm sorry I ruined your Christmas tree outing.”

“We'll go again when you're not so sick, okay?” Jolene said as if talking to a child.

Rachel smiled again. “I'll help decorate the tree, too.”

“If you want, you can put up my special ornaments with me. I want to get one for the baby next year. One that says Baby's First Christmas—just like the ornament my mom got for me.”

“That can be your Christmas gift for your little sister.”

“I'm getting a sister!” Jolene grinned at Bruce. “I was hoping for a sister!”

“A girl?” Bruce said. This was news to him. “I thought you wanted to be surprised.”

“I thought I did, too, but I asked at my last ultrasound. I was saving the news until Christmas. This is close enough.”

“A girl,” Bruce repeated in awe. “Rachel, junior.”

“Rachel, junior,” Jolene muttered, shaking her head. “No way are you going to stick my sister with a name like Junior.”

“What do you suggest?” Rachel asked.

“Madison,” Jolene said without a pause.

“Not
my
daughter,” Bruce said just as quickly.

“I've always liked the name Corinne,” Rachel told them both.

“Corinne Rachel,” Bruce mused. “That's a name I could live with.”

“Can you come home for Christmas?” Jolene asked. “You need someone to look after you.”

“Do I?” Rachel murmured.

Bruce noticed the way they locked eyes, reading each other.

“Yes, and I want to do it, too. Dad needs you, and so does Baby Corinne.”

“What about you?” Rachel asked.

Tears formed in Jolene's eyes and ran down her face. She nodded. “I need you most of all.”

Rachel held open her arms and Jolene went into them, sliding her own around Rachel's neck and sobbing loudly. “I've missed you so much.”

“I've missed you, too,” Rachel whispered.

The nurse came into the cubicle. “Hey, what's going on here? Is everyone okay?”

“Never better.” Bruce smiled. And once they brought Rachel home, it would be a hundred percent true.

“We can take your wife to her room now,” the nurse said.

Jolene released Rachel and held on to her hand as they wheeled the gurney out of the cubicle and down the hospital corridor. As they rounded the corner, Rachel's eyes met Bruce's.

Christmas was two weeks away. They would be together as a family. And when Rachel was out of the hospital, when she'd regained her strength, they'd return to Christmas Tree Lane and cut down that evergreen and have a real family Christmas. He and Rachel, Jolene and…and their daughter-to-be.

1225 Christmas Tree Lane

Debbie Macomber

One

“M
om!”

The front door slammed and Beth Morehouse hurried out of the
kitchen. Three days before Christmas, and her daughters were home from
college—at last! Her foreman, Jeff, had been kind enough to pick them up at the
airport while Beth dealt with last-minute chores. She'd been looking forward to
seeing them for weeks. Throwing her arms wide, she ran toward Bailey and Sophie.
“Merry Christmas, girls.”

Squealing with delight, they dropped their bags and rushed into
her embrace.

“I can't believe it's snowing. It's so beautiful,” Bailey said,
holding Beth in a tight hug. At twenty-one, she was the oldest by fourteen
months. She resembled her father in so many ways. She was tall like Kent and had
his dark brown hair, which she'd tucked under a knitted cap. Her eyes shone with
a quiet joy. She was the thoughtful one and that, too, reminded Beth of her
ex-husband. Three years after the divorce, she still missed him, although pride
would never allow her to admit that. Even her budding relationship with Ted
Reynolds, the local veterinarian, paled when she thought about her life with
Kent and their history together.

“My turn.” Displacing Bailey, Sophie snuggled into Beth's
embrace. “The house looks fabulous, Mom. Really Christmassy.” This child was
more like Beth. A few inches shorter than her sister, Sophie had curly auburn
hair and eyes so blue they seemed to reflect a summer sky. Releasing Beth,
Sophie added, “And it smells wonderful.”

Beth had done her best to make the house as festive and bright
as possible for her daughters. She'd spent long hours draping fresh evergreen
boughs on the staircase leading to the second-floor bedrooms. Two of the three
Christmas trees were loaded with ornaments. The main tree in the family room was
still bare, awaiting their arrival so they could decorate it together, which was
a family tradition.