Page 106 of The Holiday Gift

Chapter 10

After the sleigh ride, Caidy made it a point for the next few days to stay as far as possible from the foreman’s house. She had no reason to visit. Why would she? Ben and the children and Mrs. Michaels were perfectly settled and didn’t need help with anything.

If she stood at her bedroom window, looking out at the night and the sparkling lights nestled among the trees, well, that was her own business. She told herself she was only enjoying the peace and serenity of these quiet December nights, but that didn’t completely explain away the restlessness that seemed to ache inside her.

It certainly had nothing to do with a certain dark-haired man and the jittery butterflies he sent dancing around inside her.

She couldn’t hope to avoid him forever, though. On Wednesday, less than a week before Christmas, she woke from tangled dreams with an odd sense of trepidation.

The vague sense of unease dogged her heels like a blurred shadow as she headed out to the barn with a still-sleepy Destry to feed and water the horses and take care of the rest of their chores.

She couldn’t figure it out until they finished in the barn and headed back to the welcoming warmth of the house for breakfast before the school bus came. When they walked into the kitchen, they were greeted by a happy bark from the crate she had returned to the corner and she suddenly remembered.

This was the day she had to take Luke back to the veterinarian to have his wound checked and his stitches removed. She stopped stock-still in the kitchen, trepidation pressing down on her. Drat. She couldn’t avoid the man forever, she supposed. A few more days would be nice, though. Was it too late to make an appointment with the vet in Idaho Falls?

“What’s wrong?” Destry asked. “Your face looks funny. Did you see a mouse?”

She raised an eyebrow. “In my kitchen? Are you kidding me? I better not. No. I just remembered something...unpleasant.”

“Reverend Johnson said in Sunday school that the best way to get rid of bad thoughts is to replace them by thinking about something good.”

The girl measured dry oatmeal into her bowl and reached for the teakettle Caidy always turned on before they headed out to the barn. “I’ve been trying to do that whenever I think about my mom,” she said casually.

Thoughts of Ben flew out the window as she stared at her niece. Destrynevertalked about her mother. In recent memory, Caidy could only recall a handful of times when Melinda’s name even came up. Destry was so sweet and even-tempered, and Ridge was such an attentive father, she had just assumed the girl had adjusted to losing her mother, but she supposed no child ever completely recovered from that loss, whether she was three at the time or sixteen.

“Does that happen often?” she asked carefully. She didn’t want to cut off the line of dialogue if Destry wanted to open up. “Thinking about your mother, I mean?”

Destry shrugged and added an extra spoonful of brown sugar to her oatmeal. Caidy decided to let it slide for once. “Not really. I can hardly remember her, you know? But I still wonder about her, especially at Christmas. I don’t even know if she’s dead or alive. Gabi at least knows her mom is alive—she’s just being a big jerk.”

Jerkwas a kind word for the mother of both Gabi and Becca. She was a first-class bitch, selfish and irresponsible, who had given both of her daughters childhoods filled with uncertainty and turmoil.

“Have you asked your dad about...your mother?”

“No. He doesn’t like to talk about her much.” Destry paused, a spoonful of steaming oatmeal halfway between the bowl and her mouth. “I really don’t remember much about her. I was so little when she left. She wasn’t very nice, was she?”

Another kind phrase. Melinda showed up in a thesaurus as the antonym to nice. She had fooled them all in the beginning, especially Ridge. She had seemed sweet and rather needy and hopelessly in love with him, but time—or perhaps her own natural temperament—had showed a different side of her. By the time she finally left River Bow, just about all of them had been relieved to see her go.

“She was...troubled.” Caidy picked through her words with caution. “I don’t think she had a very happy life when she was your age. Sometimes those bad things in the past can make it tough for a person to see all the good things they have now. I’m afraid that was your mother’s problem.”

Destry appeared to ponder that as she took another spoonful of oatmeal. “It stinks, doesn’t it?” she said quietly after a long moment. “I don’t think I could ever leave my kid, no matter what.”

Her heart ached for this girl and for inexplicable truths. “Neither could I. And yes, you’re right. It does stink. She made some poor choices. Unfortunately, you’ve had to suffer for those. But you need to look at the good things you have. Your dad didn’t go anywhere. He loves you more than anything and he’s been here the whole time showing you that. I’m here and the twins and now their families. You have lots and lots of people who love you, Des. If your mom couldn’t see how wonderful you are, that’s her problem—not yours. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I know. I remember. Most of the time anyway.”

Caidy leaned over and hugged her niece. Des rested her head on her shoulder for just a moment before she returned to her breakfast with her usual equanimity.

Caidy wasn’t the girl’s mother, but she thought she was doing a pretty good job as a surrogate. Worlds better than Melinda would have done, if Caidy did say so herself.

After Destry finished breakfast and helped her clean up the dishes, Caidy had just enough time to spare to run her the quarter mile from the house to the bus stop.

“Ava and Jack aren’t here,” her niece fretted. “Do you think they forgot what time the bus comes? Maybe we should have picked them up.”

“I’m sure Mrs. Michaels knows what time the bus comes,” she answered. “They’ve been here the past few days in plenty of time, haven’t they? Maybe they just caught a ride with their father today.”

“Maybe,” Destry said, though she still looked worried.

Caidy could have given Des a ride into town this morning on her way to the vet, she realized. She hadn’t even thought about that until right now—just as the school bus lumbered over the hill and stopped in front of them with a screech of air brakes.

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