Bring Me Home for Christmas - By Robyn Carr Page 0,23

you got this out of your system?”

“This?” she asked.

“Hunting and fishing,” he said. “Will you be off crutches by Christmas?”

“Very close, but I’ll be cleared to travel much sooner than that.”

“Good. Because I just picked up a great Napa package we can use around Christmas—a vineyard tour. It was supposed to be a surprise, but since I won’t see you, I’m telling you now.”

Right then, Denny came into the room, carrying her crutches. He gave her a smile and pointed at them. She pointed at the floor by the couch.

And suddenly, even though one of them was in the room and one hundreds of miles away at an airport, she could see both men as if they were standing beside each other. Denny was wearing jeans, boots, a plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves and looked like a woodsman, while she knew Doug would be in dress slacks with a cashmere sweater, carrying his leather jacket in preparation for the cold Boston winter. The lumberjack next to the metrosexual.

“How does that sound, babe?” Doug went on.

“Great. Nice. Fun.”

“I have a list of all the tasting rooms—we’ll go over it before we even head that way. Decide exactly which vineyards appeal to us most.”

“Sure,” she said.

Denny put down the crutches and began to leave the room, heading back for the bar.

“There’s my call—we’re boarding. I love you, babe,” he said.

“Have a safe trip.”

“Becca. I said, I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said. But she said it quietly.

Not quietly enough. Denny paused, stiffened just slightly, then continued on. And she thought, Crap. I’m screwed.

Becca relaxed on the sofa for a while before she grabbed up her crutches and made her way to the bathroom. She managed just fine. A little slow, maybe, but she never put weight on her foot and didn’t fall, either. Surfing was better than skiing or ballet for balance.

Suddenly, she realized Doug never asked her where she was staying. Never asked if she needed him. His most immediate concern was whether she’d be able to travel when he wanted to take his Napa tour… She had a premonition of what life was going to be like—it was going to revolve around Doug. Of course. He was the busy one, the important one.

She sighed. Might be a good idea to cut her losses and shoot for spinsterhood.

She headed back into the bar. It was more crowded now than it was around the dinner hour. Troy separated himself from his friends and held out a chair at a table near the fire for her. She sat down gratefully and he quickly lifted her leg up onto a second chair, then leaned the crutches against the wall right behind her. “Thanks,” she said. “That’s more work than you’d think.”

He sat down at the table. A quick glance around told her Denny was not in the room. “Where’s Denny? Did he leave?”

“Out back,” Troy said, pointing toward the window. “I take it he spends a lot of time helping out around here.”

She turned and looked out the window. The day was bright and cold and Denny was splitting logs on a tree trunk, stacking up a nice pile of wood for the fireplace. She wondered if he was working off that “I love you” he’d overheard.

“He said these people are his family,” Becca remarked, watching Denny heft that ax and bring it down. He didn’t wear a jacket and the broadness of his shoulders made her long to be in his arms again. For just a little while. But the best view by far was that perfect butt. She believed he had a better butt than she did.

“So I hear,” Troy said. “How’s it feeling? The ankle?”

She looked back at him and gave him a thin smile. “Not so bad. You know what feels worst of all? I haven’t put any makeup on in about twenty-four hours. And I think there might still be mud in my hair.”

“You don’t need makeup, Becca,” he said. “You look great for someone who took a dive out of Big Richie’s truck.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “I guess I was in a hurry….”

Rich and Dirk wandered over to the table and pulled out chairs. “If you’re feeling all right, we’re going to get in a little hunting after lunch,” Rich said.

She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “By all means,” she said.

Denny came in the side door with an armload of split logs for the fire. “Don’t worry, Becca, I’ll stick around.” He crouched beside the