Bring Me Home for Christmas Page 31

Becca thought this house looked to be in better shape, though it could sure use some paint and repair. This time when the occupant answered the door, Becca breathed a sigh of relief. It was an elderly woman, and she might not be robust but she didn’t look thin and ill. She was dressed for the cold and had a shawl thrown over her shoulders. Her house was not rich but contained plenty of substantial furniture and the doors and windows appeared to have a good seal against the cold, at least on first glance. “Mrs. Clemens?”

“Yes, hello,” she said, and smiled with warmth. “Did the pastor send you?”

“Yes, ma’am. We have a box of goodies for you,” Becca said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you, child. I’m happy to take that off your hands—my social security just doesn’t go that far, especially with my prescriptions! But girl, I’m worried about that young woman down the street! Did Pastor send something to her?” She stepped aside so Denny could enter with the box.

“What’s her name?” Becca hedged. “I’ll be glad to check.”

“It’s Crane. I don’t know the first name, but she’s in a terrible way!”

The difference between this house and the last was shocking. Mrs. Clemens’s furniture was dated and worn in places, but there were homey touches, as well—doilies spread over the arms of chairs, a tablecloth, bric-a-brac, a nice big area rug that was a bit worn but still perfectly functional.

“That poor girl down there. I saw them move in when she had that brand-new baby and not long after, that young man moved out with a trailer and took everything with him. Everything! Furniture and rugs and even the refrigerator. I spoke to him, asked him what he was leaving his poor wife and he shouted at me to mind my own business or I’d be sorry.” She tsked and shook her head. “The shame! I told Pastor there was a young woman in need and I saw him write down her name. I’m so glad she got a box! She did get a box, didn’t she?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Becca said.

“I’m so glad! I look forward to the Thanksgiving and Christmas boxes all year long. But did she get a turkey? Because I don’t think they have enough to get by on down there, and there’s small children…”

“It’s going to be taken care of, Mrs. Clemens,” Denny said with authority.

The little woman grabbed Denny’s forearm in a vice-grip. “It’s gotta be taken care of right away,” she said emphatically. “I’m afraid they’ll freeze to death. I worry about that baby!”

“Right away,” Denny confirmed, patting her hand. “Right away.”

She let out a sigh of relief. Then she let go of his arm and gave it a pat. “That’s good,” she said. Then she turned away and began to pick through her care box. “I do look forward to this all year,” she repeated. “The dollar just doesn’t stretch as far as it used to.”

When they were back in the truck, Becca said, “That was a big promise.”

“I’ll find someone to pull together something or I’ll borrow this truck for a run to Target. They need to be fed and warm. I wonder if there’s formula and diapers…”

Becca gasped. “How dense am I? I never even thought of that!”

“I helped out last Christmas. Mel was the one who knew about the need for formula and diapers and which boxes should include them. She might be the one to talk to about this. But if she’s too busy, I’ll get to the store before we have more snow.”

“They have to be warm and full tonight, Denny,” Becca said.

“They will be warm and full, honey. I promise.”

Becca was back at the bar by three. With Denny close at her side, she explained about Nora Crane and her dire needs. Paige tried putting a call in to Mel at Valley Hospital, but she wasn’t answering her page, which meant she was probably on her way back to Virgin River.

“If Jack can manage without his truck awhile longer, I can go to Fortuna and pick up some things—diapers, formula, maybe a space heater. That baby’s real little, Paige. Can you write down what I’ll need?” Denny asked.

“You don’t have to go to Fortuna,” Paige said. “There’s formula and diapers at the clinic and we have an emergency closet here in town—used clothing, blankets, jackets, that sort of thing, though they do tend to run a little low during the holidays. Does she have a fireplace?”

Denny shook his head.

“Hmm. Maybe one of the guys can do something about the doors and windows. I’ll call Paul—he might be able to send over one of his crew who can nail down a proper strip for a seal. At this stage, even some good duct tape would help around the windows. And we can loan her a cooler with ice for her perishables—she shouldn’t be opening and closing the back door in the dead of winter. I’ll go dig out some of Dana’s old bottles and sippy cups. You know what? I bet I have some clothes just ready to be given to the shelter—how big is the toddler?”

“A little smaller than Dana,” Becca said. “But it’s the baby I’m worried about most. That woman doesn’t have the means to wash clothes, and it’s cold in that house. If you had any infant wear that’s nice and warm…”

“Oh, I have lots. Denny, mind the bar while I gather up some things. And for the woman?” she asked.

Becca shrugged. “I have no idea what she has. She was wearing jeans and had a scratchy old Army blanket around her shoulders, covering herself and the baby with it.”

“We can’t have that,” Paige said, wandering off toward the kitchen.

A feeling of satisfaction grew in Becca’s chest. She thought how much like a successful day with a struggling second grader it felt. One stop at one unfortunate house and an opportunity to find some help for them… It almost felt as though her whole journey to this little town had been justified.

She followed Paige back to the kitchen, ready to finish the meal she’d begun. She found the sink was full of dishes. While Paige talked to Paul Haggerty on the phone about emergency repairs on a poor woman’s house, Becca went about the business of cleaning up. Leaning against the counter and with the dishwasher opened, she began to rinse and load the lunch dishes. She heard Paige give Paul the address and thank him—it brought a smile to Becca’s lips. Then she turned the oven back on and pulled out everything she had stored in the refrigerator.

Becca had no experience cooking for a large crowd but she noticed that Preacher’s meat loaf recipe was four loaves for forty people. She put more potatoes in the pot to boil, increasing her potato casserole recipe. She filled a colander with frozen green beans and thawed them under cold water. By the time she’d patted four meat loaves into shape, Paige came back into the kitchen, her arms heavily laden with clothes, towels and a couple of blankets. She was smiling.

“I think this will do, at least for a few days. I found an old space heater, too. It hasn’t been used in forever—I don’t need it back. We’ll have to get Mel to take over formula and diapers, of course. And if Mel takes them, she’ll have a chance to make sure they’re all right at the same time. And Mel has supplements for adults on hand, as well—Ensure and that sort of thing. Something fortifying for Mommy.”

“Thank you,” Becca said gratefully.

“No, thank you! We can’t be everywhere at once!”

“Paige, what time should this meat loaf be ready?” she asked.

Paige glanced over her big pile of clothing at her watch. “Put it in now, Becca. We should be ready for an early crowd at five, though I can’t imagine who will brave the elements tonight. The rest of us will eat much later. Keep what we don’t serve in the warmer.”

As Paige left, Denny came into the kitchen. “Need me for anything, babe?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. I have it handled.”

“Good for you. I’m going with one of Paul’s men over to the Crane house to seal some doors and windows. I’ll put a note on the clinic door for Mel about what we need and the address.”

“Is it snowing yet?” she asked.

“Just a little. The big stuff will probably come later.”

And for some reason, that news made her grin like a fool.

“That shouldn’t make you smile,” Denny said.

“I think we’re stuck another night.”

“Most definitely,” he said. “And my truck is getting more buried by the minute.” He turned to leave, but had a second thought and turned back to her, snatching her up in his arms and planting a giant kiss on her, momentarily taking her breath away. “I’m okay with being stuck another night,” he whispered, running a knuckle over her cheek. “It’s nice and warm under the quilt.” And then he was gone.

Becca went to the phone and dialed her mother. “Hey, Mom. What’s going on?”

“Just leaving work, honey,” she said. “I’ve been watching the weather. It looks pretty serious up there.”

“It’s serious, all right. We’re pretty much snowed in. We’ve been so busy getting ready for a big storm. You have no idea all there is to do around here. First of all, it was important to get the Christmas food boxes delivered—there are people who will really need them and more snow could prevent getting them out. And, Mom, I helped deliver and I saw some need in this little town that just can’t go unnoticed.” She described the young woman with the baby and toddler, the elderly woman who was concerned for her and little Megan, whose brothers had to go to the hospital and whose father was out of work due to his amputation.

She told her mom about cooking for whoever might show up at the bar that night because the cook and his wife were busy making sure anyone who was cold or hungry or in any way needy was being taken care of.

“Meat loaf for forty?” her mother asked. “My goodness, Becca! Have you ever cooked for that many?”

She laughed and said, “I might’ve ordered pizza for about half that many. No—I’ve never been responsible for this many people. Mel and Jack and their kids will probably stay in town tonight rather than going home—she’s the midwife and has a couple of women in advanced pregnancy and can’t risk getting snowed in out at her house. The clinic is across the street from Jack’s. And right now one of their friends, the builder who made sure all the streets were plowed, sent someone from his crew over to the young mother’s house to seal up the doors and windows so they don’t freeze to death tonight. Paige had a space heater for them—God, I hope it works. I think I’ll be worried about them all night.”

“It sounds like you should’ve gotten out of there first thing this morning!” Beverly Timm said.

“Oh, Mom, I couldn’t have,” Becca said. “It’s just…you just can’t imagine… Mom, I’m so glad I was here to help. It’s a little like sandbagging in a flood or hosing down a fire!”

“Is that so?” Beverly asked. “As serious as that?”

“At least as serious as that! I just had to be a part of it.”

“Is that little town growing on you?”

Becca laughed. “I got pretty caught up in the action.”

“Well, as long as you get home for Christmas…”

“Oh, I’ll get—” She stopped. Her voice caught. “I’m sure I’ll be home for Christmas,” she said, but she said it very softly. And what she couldn’t add was, But home might not be in San Diego.

Sixteen

Becca cursed those crutches that got in her way! She found she could manage in the kitchen pretty well, with countertops to lean on, but she couldn’t serve or bus tables. She longed to be on the move! Fortunately Denny was back at the bar by five and could help. He pulled out the heavy trays of meat loaf and lifted the hot potato casseroles onto the work station. Becca was able to handle the beans and warm the dinner rolls—she felt like a wimp.

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