Home for the Holidays Read online

  The child in the seat behind her was whining again. “But Mama, I hafta pee!”

  “Honey, you heard the man, we’re getting ready to set down. You can go when we get to the airport.”

  Ann Elise had to go, too, but it wasn’t worth the effort of crawling over old Scrooge in the aisle seat. He muttered something about kids in a tone that hinted at a lack of patience. Something about him—not his looks, but his tone of voice—reminded her of Uncle Lloyd.

  From day one her uncle had insisted on strict discipline. Until they’d come to realize that his bark was far worse than his bite, she and her sisters had tiptoed around the big, rambling house, speaking in whispers; afraid of being turned over to social services.

  Now Faith had two children of her own and they were back in Mission Creek, living in the same house again. Becky and Jason were what—five and eight? Six and nine?

  Ann Elise hadn’t a clue what kind of toys children that age liked, much less what her niece and nephew already had. So much for finishing her shopping list. She’d scribbled four names and stopped.

  Ann Elise was still working on the list when the engines changed pitch, signaling the final descent. Tucking her notebook back into her purse, she let her thoughts off the leash. Not surprisingly, they homed in on Joe Halloran again. Had he married his cute little cheerleader? If so, did they have children? Visions of a good-looking kid, tall for his age, with Joe’s world-class smile, appeared unbidden. A daughter would probably inherit what’sername’s turned-up nose and long, curly black hair. For a girl, it was probably the better alternative, she admitted, trying for fair and balanced when jealousy was what she truly felt.

  Lord, you’re a mess, woman, she thought scornfully. Imagine, wasting all this time thinking about a man she hadn’t seen in more than a dozen years instead of completing her Christmas shopping list with less than a day to go. Just went to show what a vast wasteland her social life was. The hackneyed phrase “Get a life” came to mind, and she promised herself she would, she really would, just as soon as she got back to Dallas.

  All the same, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if Joe hadn’t already been spoken for, and if she hadn’t been too stiff-necked with pride to risk a snub. Or if he’d been three years older or she’d been three years younger.

  He’d probably moved away by now. She almost hoped he had—not that their paths were apt to cross. Still, there was no point in wasting time thinking about what might have been, now that it was too late.

  A madly waving Faith met her inside the airport. After a big hug, they collected her luggage and hurried across the gleaming parking area, chattering and catching up. Faith murmured, “There’s someone I want you to meet when we get home.”

  Ann Elise thought about the children, wondering if they would remember her at all. A few years was an eternity in a child’s life. When Faith asked about her flight, she shrugged off the question. “Strange,” she said. How did you describe old memories?

  They talked about her practice and they talked about the children, and Ann Elise sensed an undercurrent running through her sister’s chatter. Staring at the showy diamond ring on her third finger, left hand, she said, “Are you going to tell me about him?”

  For several minutes Faith remained silent. Negotiating holiday traffic on a rainy night claimed her attention, and Ann Elise didn’t press her. Sooner or later, though, she intended to hear every single detail. If anyone had ever earned a happy-ever-after ending, it was her middle sister.

  “Darned fool,” Faith grumbled as a car cut in front of her.

  “If you think this is bad, you ought to see Dallas.”

  “No, thanks, I’ll stay where I am.” Faith cut her a quick glance. “There’s someone I want you to meet when we get home.”

  Not until they were nearing the turnoff to the Baker ranch, or what was left of it, did Faith speak again. Ann Elise had been busy absorbing all the changes that had taken place since she’d last been home. “Marilou’s due sometime tomorrow. She said she’s bringing a surprise.”

  Ann Elise twisted in her seat to stare. “My gosh, is that a new shopping center?”

  They zipped on by the strip mall with its gaudy decorations reflecting on wet pavement, talking about all the changes that had taken place in the small, prosperous town of Mission Creek.

  “Next time don’t wait so long between visits. A lot of things change, but the welcome mat’s always out.”

  And then they were pulling into the driveway of the large, southwestern-style ranch house. “Tah-dah! Do I hear applause for my decorating efforts? Just goes to show what you can do with nine miles of tinsel and ten thousand tiny lights. Here, come on inside and have something hot to drink.”

  Ann Elise had scarcely got through the front door before the children appeared. “You remember Becky, don’t you? She’s nine now, going on thirty-nine. Hon, say hello to your aunt Ann Elise.”

  Taking a good look at the tall, thin little girl wearing glasses and a solemn expression, Ann Elise thought, Oh, my mercy, she reminds me of me at that age.

  “Hello, Aunt Ann Elise. Do I hafta call you both names, or can I just pick one?”

  “Hush, you can settle that later,” Faith said. “And this is Jason. I guess the last time you saw him he was, what—two? Three? He’s a big boy now, aren’t you, honey? Say hey to your aunt Ann Elise.”

  Six-year-old Jason Donner had the smile of an angel, only instead of a halo, he was wearing a cowboy hat—pint-sized instead of ten-gallon. He beamed up at her and said, “Hey, Annalise. You know what Santa’s bringing me? A fire truck with a ladder that raises up and down like a real one. I wanted a snake, but Mama said no.”

  “Hmm…a boy after my own heart,” Ann Elise said. “Remind me to tell you about Splotch.”

  Just then a dark-haired, blue-eyed man wearing jeans and a Western-style shirt Ann Elise easily recognized as custom-made, sauntered into the hall. He touched Jason on the shoulder, shook his head at Becky and looked at Ann Elise. “And this must be your sister?”

  “Ann Elise, meet my fiancé, Gabriel Raines,” Faith said breathlessly, giving him a quick kiss. “He’s going to be spending Christmas with us. Gabe, this is my older sister, the one I told you about.”

  “You told me about two sisters,” he reminded her, and Ann Elise was struck by the warmth in his voice.

  “Yes, well, this one’s the vet from Dallas.”

  Gabe smiled and extended his hand. Ann Elise hesitated only a moment before accepting his handshake. His smile was certainly friendly enough, but his cool blue eyes were difficult to read. She would reserve judgment for the time being. Old habits died hard.

  The noise of the children galloping through the house woke her early the next morning. Ann Elise opened her eyes, glanced at the tall window to confirm what her ears had told her. It was still raining. Gray, wind-driven sheets of water pounding down from a leaden sky, probably drowning thousands of Christmas decorations.

  Briefly, she considered turning over and going back to sleep. But only briefly, because rain or not, it was still Christmas Eve and she had too much to do to procrastinate.

  Reluctantly, she sat up, raked her fingers through her hair and wished she hadn’t skipped her last appointment. It was just long enough to be a bother, not quite long enough to tie back. Maybe once she finished her Christmas shopping she could stop in at the Texas Belle—if it was still in business.

  Fat chance. The place would be packed with last-minute customers getting ready for a round of parties. Aside from all the private festivities, there was always a ball at the Lone Star Country Club. She had never even seen the club’s fabulous ballroom, although Aunt Beth had been a life member.

  Yawning, she eased one leg out from under the duvet. Somewhere in the house, a radio blared Christmas music. Faith yelled, “Turn that down, Aunt Annie’s still in bed!”

  “No’m not,” Ann Elise mumbled. Aunt Annie? Well, why not? The alternative was a mouthful for a kid w
ho didn’t even have all his permanent teeth yet.

  Last night she’d managed to stay awake long enough to eat a sandwich and toast her sister’s engagement with a single glass of champagne. “Good luck, little sister,” she whispered now as she yawned, scratched and stretched. After her first disastrous marriage, Faith deserved the best. Whether or not Gabriel Raines was the best remained to be seen. She would watch closely, just in case. Faith had said he was “in oil,” which could mean almost anything from oil-field roughneck to service station attendant to tycoon.

  On the other hand, being “in” anything was a lot better than Earl Donner, who’d been “into” nothing more productive than mooching off his wife and drinking up every penny she earned.

  “Ham and eggs?” Faith greeted from the kitchen some twenty minutes later. “Hash browns? Grits? Pancakes? Cinnamon rolls?”

  “How about one bite of all the above?” Ann Elise said, laughing. Her middle sister was a genius in the kitchen, always had been. “I’m really not hungry.”

  “How’s your head?”

  “Better. Fine, in fact, as long as you don’t expect the gray cells to function anytime soon. I’ve got to do my Christmas shopping, which means—”

  “You haven’t done it yet?” Faith handed her a heaped plate.

  “You ever try getting through airport security with a stack of gift-wrapped packages?” Ann Elise shook her head. “Don’t even consider it. I need to call a cab. How long do you think it’ll take to get one out here?”

  “Hush, you sit down here and eat your breakfast first. When you’re ready, you can take Aunt Beth’s car. The thing needs driving anyway, and I always use mine.”

  Chapter 3

  It was late that morning before Ann Elise managed to get away. First she had to see every toy either child possessed and hear their wish lists. All of which helped her decide what to buy, but failed to lessen her apprehension about driving in weather that appeared to be worsening by the minute.

  Gabriel had offered to drive her, but she refused to hear of it. Besides, she’d heard him promise Becky to help redecorate the Christmas tree that Jason had accidentally knocked over the day before. Gabriel was good with the children, a big mark in his favor. And they obviously adored him, which was an even bigger one.

  Lucky Faith.

  Still thinking about those odd dreams that had haunted her on the trip south, she backed out of the garage and was soon speeding along the wet highway toward town. Half-mesmerized by the monotonous sweep of the windshield wipers, she found herself thinking about Joe Halloran again. Priding herself on her pragmatism, she decided that by now he would have developed a paunch and lost all that wonderful chestnut hair. She might even look him up while she was here, just to see. At least maybe then she could finally quit dreaming about him.

  Or maybe not. Aside from his essential sweetness, so at odds with his rugged features and tall, rangy build, there was a strength about young Joe Halloran that had held enormous appeal. She didn’t know if he had younger siblings or not, but if so, they were lucky.

  A gust of wind rocked the car. Was that sky growing darker, or was it only her imagination? Her fingers gripped the steering wheel as she peered through the preternatural gloom. Hers was the only car on the road so far as she could see. Even so, with the shoulders on either side of the road filling with rain, she’d better stop mooning over Joe and pay closer attention to her driving. Tornadoes weren’t entirely unknown in this part of Texas, either, although she’d never heard of one on Christmas Eve.

  The middle-aged sedan shuddered and pulled to one side as she drove through a long stretch of standing water. If memory served, the only place for miles was the old Camden place, long since abandoned. Didn’t there used to be a creek along here? Not much of one, just a big double culvert under the highway. All the same…

  Suddenly uneasy, Ann Elise fumbled for the defroster and sent a streak of air over the inside of the windshield to clear away the fog. Of all times to be without her cell phone, but the thing had run down and she’d left it on charge back at the house.

  Rounding a curve, she caught sight of a line of cars several hundred feet ahead. A festive display of red lights came wriggling toward her as several drivers hit their brakes at once. Reacting instinctively, she used her left foot and felt the little car fishtail before coming to a stop.

  “What the devil?” The defroster was barely keeping up with the job. Leaning forward, she cleared a patch of glass, peering ahead to see what the holdup was. Probably a fender bender, considering the conditions. She just hoped no one had been hurt.

  Then one set of taillights pulled away from the others and crept forward. A few moments later, another set followed. She closed the space between her and the other two cars just as a momentary letup in the rain allowed her to see that what was holding up traffic was no accident, but a river of muddy water.

  “Well, shoot,” she muttered. Leaning her head on the headrest, she closed her eyes and wondered about her chances of getting same-day delivery if she went back and called in her orders. Probably on a par with her chances of being airlifted over the mess up ahead.

  “Santa, where’s your blooming sleigh? I need some help here.”

  One of the vehicles turned around on the highway and headed back toward where she sat, the engine idling quietly. When the white Miata slowed beside her, Ann Elise lowered her window a few inches, flinching as cold rain struck her face.

  “Honey, if I was you, I wouldn’t risk it,” the driver yelled. “Them trucks made it through awright, but ask me, it’s getting deeper by the minute.”

  “Oh, well. Thanks for the warning.”

  What now, she wondered, gnawing her bottom lip. Try to get through before the water rose any higher? Give up and go back? In her trusty van she might have tried it, but not in a borrowed car.

  After a moment’s deliberation, she took her foot off the brake and inched forward. She would just have to judge for herself. Flash floods were notoriously dangerous, but in this mess it would be easy to mistake a few inches of surface water for something more serious.

  Two sets of taillights disappeared in the rain-shrouded distance, which meant that the other drivers had managed to get through. The insides of the windows were still steaming up faster than the defroster could handle the moisture, which didn’t help visibility. She smeared another patch of glass and tried to see what the roadside looked like. If the creek was seriously over the banks…

  Nothing to do but get out and look.

  The wind caught her hair, whipping it across her face as she struggled with the door. Her black silk raincoat was more fashionable than practical. An umbrella wouldn’t have lasted five seconds—not that she’d thought to bring one.

  Shielding her eyes with one hand, she edged closer to the rushing, mud-colored water in an effort to gauge her chances of crossing. Trouble was, there was no way to tell how deep the stuff was. At least three vehicles had made it through in the past five minutes, but they were probably trucks, higher off the road and more powerful.

  Why on earth had she put off shopping until the last minute?

  Well, she knew why, of course, but that didn’t help matters now.

  A high, keening note reached her, raising goose bumps down her spine. The wind, she assured herself. Not an animal, just the ferocious wind howling through the hedgerow. It came again, and she whispered, “Oh, please, God, not a child.”

  Cupping her ears, she tried to block the wind and tune into whatever it was she’d heard. Moments later, it came again. A whine—ending in a sharp yip.

  Edging closer to the side of the shoulder, she peered at the river of muddy water racing toward its eventual goal—the Gulf of Mexico. Either the creek was much higher than she’d first thought, or there was a tree down some fifty feet down the bank. Something—a dog, maybe a coyote—or maybe only a pile of trash—was caught in the branches.

  Scarcely aware of the headlights coming toward her at a slow, steady pace,
Ann Elise gauged the distance, trying to see a way to reach the poor creature. If it was a creature. It definitely sounded like a dog, but the whining and yipping could be coming from anywhere. She’d be a fool to risk drowning for a sack of trash someone had tossed out of a car. On the other hand, if it was an animal hanging on to that tree branch, it didn’t have a chance of swimming against all that current.

  She edged closer until water lapped at the toes of her boots, peering through the unnatural gloom. That was no sack of trash, it was a dog, and it was in serious trouble.

  Moving carefully to keep from slipping, she hurried back to the car, searching frantically for something—anything. A rope!

  There was nothing at all in the back seat, but maybe— She grabbed the keys from the ignition and blundered her way to the rear of the car, praying to find something in the trunk that would help.

  Nothing. A spare tire and a jack. If she’d had some rope, she might have tried using the tire as a life ring, but that was stupid. The thing probably wouldn’t even float, and even if it did, a terrified, half-drowned animal would hardly climb aboard and wait to be hauled ashore.

  “Well, shoot,” she whispered to herself. Closing the trunk, she tossed the keys in the car. They landed on her purse, and on impulse, she stripped off her wet raincoat and tossed it inside, too. If she was going to go plowing through a muddy field and try to scramble down a ditch bank, she didn’t need all that excess material flapping around her legs.

  “I know, I know, honey, I’m thinking,” she called, hearing the pitiful whimper again. She had to do something, she simply had to, even if it meant her family would have to do without gifts.

  Her new boot-legged jeans were already muddy and her yellow cashmere turtleneck was beginning to sag. As for her favorite pair of boots—gray snakeskin with a classic tulip design—they were probably history. They’d been an indulgence she’d allowed herself after spending her last birthday operating on an overfed Shih Tzu bitch with an abdominal obstruction. She was pretty sure the designer had never intended them for wading around muddy creeks.