Bring Me Home for Christmas - By Robyn Carr Page 0,73
he’ll be careful,” Jillian said. “There’s no other option.”
Back in the bar, the television mounted high in the corner was turned on to the weather station and the volume was up. The blast of snow had hit the northwest, and the worst was in the mountains. The Sierras were socked in. South of town was rain and the inevitable flooding and mud, all the way to Southern California.
Becca heard a banging sound and looked out one of the bar windows. Preacher’s truck was backed up to the wood pile and, with Jack’s help, they were filling the back of the truck with split logs.
“What are they doing?” she asked the women.
“They’ll take firewood with them wherever they go today. The people around here have good survival instincts, but Jack likes to make sure they have wood on hand in case the heater fails or they run out of propane.”
Becca leaned heavily on her crutches, her bad leg lifted. This was driving her crazy! She wanted to be a part of this. “I want to help,” she said. “Tell me what I can do.”
Paige and Mel both stopped what they were doing and looked at her. “Well,” Mel finally said. “I guess you could color with the kids…”
“I’d be happy to, but they don’t need me. You need me. There must be something I can do.”
There was a moment of silent indecision between the women. “Do you cook?” Paige asked.
“A little bit, I guess.”
“Any favorite dishes you like to make? Can you follow a recipe? We’re not going to have a crowd tonight, but whoever is here is going to have to eat.”
“We might have to stay in town tonight,” Mel said. “I don’t want to risk not being able to get to the clinic. I’ve got a couple of women in advanced pregnancy.” She laughed suddenly. “And nine months from tonight, I’m going to have plenty ready to pop. People can only think of so many ways to entertain themselves during a snowstorm.”
“I can get food together,” Becca said. “I can help in the kitchen.”
“Good,” Paige said. “Because John isn’t going to have a lot of time to cook if he’s delivering food and firewood. And I have to get these care boxes fixed up before I can get in there. Let me get you set up.”
Becca found thawed ground beef in the refrigerator. She boiled potatoes and shredded cheddar for her favorite potato casserole. She found Preacher’s recipe for meat loaf—simple enough. There were frozen and canned vegetables from the local farmers and gardens. She found green beans and thought, if needed, she could throw together a green-bean casserole. Paige promised to help her with desserts after she finished with the care boxes.
Becca began to realize there were a number of things she could have provided—spaghetti and meatballs, homemade mac and cheese, lasagna, stroganoff and noodles…
Every time she heard an increase in noise, talking or laughter in the bar, she pushed open the door to see who had arrived. Ellie and Noah Kincaid came to help; Jo and Nick Fitch arrived. Next, she found Paul Haggerty in the bar, cheeks and nose pink and a big smile on his face, brushing snow off his hands and shoulders. “You’re plowed through to 36,” he announced. “Gimme some hot coffee and I’ll clear the rest of this street for you.”
A while later, she stuck her head into the bar to see a few men she didn’t know laughing and warming up with coffee before getting back out into the weather. Then Jack and Preacher were there, carrying care boxes out to the truck. At almost noon, Denny arrived. He came right in the kitchen, all grins, and swept her up in his cold arms, burying his icy nose in her neck, causing her to eeek! loudly while he laughed.
He set her free. “I’m going to start digging out the car and put chains on the tires. We’re going to have to try to get out of here, get south today. There’s more weather due tonight and if we don’t go now—”
“I can’t,” she said instantly. “I’m busy. If I don’t cook for these people, who knows if they’ll have time to get a meal together!”
“They’ll be fine, honey. Wrap it up and I’ll get you down to the apartment to pack up.”
The phone rang and she automatically reached for it. “I think I have to take a chance on the weather,” she said. Then into the phone, she said, “Jack’s.”