Bring Me Home for Christmas

didn’t I?”
    “Becca,” he said, putting a coffee cup in front of her. “You shouldn’t take chances. What if you’d gotten hurt? I mean, more hurt.”
    “Jack, I didn’t take any chances,” she said. “I was very careful and went down the stairs on my butt.” She grinned and tapped her cup. “Oh, please, coffee. I was so busy getting cleaned up—in private—that I never even looked through Denny’s cupboards for coffee!”
    He chuckled at her and poured. “How’s it working out with your new roommate?”
    She took a sip of the steaming coffee. “Poor Denny,” she said. “If it wasn’t bad enough I crashed his party, then I became his invalid to take care of because he feels at least partially responsible. What a load, huh?”
    “Why does he feel responsible?” Jack asked.
    “He was picking at me, so I told him to pull over and I…” She made a face. “I jumped out without looking.”
    Jack frowned. “He shouldn’t be doing that—picking and arguing. If I do that with Mel, it never goes the way I think it will. Big mistake.”
    “You do that?” she asked.
    “Been known to, yeah.”
    “I’m amazed,” she said. “You really don’t seem like that kind of guy.”
    “Because I’m ninety-five percent sweetheart and five percent asshole.” He smiled, pushing the cream and sugar toward her.
    “This coffee is so wonderful, I don’t even need the cream and sugar, but that’s how I usually fix it. Spoon, please?”
    He put a spoon and napkin on the bar for her. “That’s how I trapped Mel—the coffee. I’m only particular about a few things, and coffee is one of them. She was on her way out of town. She couldn’t wait to make this little one-horse town a memory, but she wasn’t leaving without a cup of coffee.”
    She grinned at him. “And she stayed for the coffee?” she asked, dressing her cup.
    “No, kiddo. The coffee distracted her just long enough for me to make my move. In the end, she stayed for me.” He smiled right back at her.
    Becca looked around and realized she was the only one in the bar. “Where is everyone?”
    “It’s after nine-thirty, Becca. My breakfast crowd is early. Plus, it’s the day before Thanksgiving—people are busy. I bet you’re hungry.”
    “I’m starving! You have no idea what an ordeal a hair wash, bath, dressing and walking a couple of blocks can be.”
    “Preacher was making omelets earlier. He always has bacon and sausage. What would you like?”
    “I usually just have cereal, but I think I need some protein. Would you ask him to just break up a little sausage in the eggs and make a small omelet? Maybe a tiny bit of cheese?”
    “I’ll ask, but I warn you, it’s very hard for Preacher to think small. Stay tuned,” he said, heading for the kitchen.
    It was just a few minutes when Paige carried a plate with an omelet on it out to the bar. Jack was right, Preacher wasn’t good at making anything small. “Wow,” she said when Paige put it in front of her.
    “It’s wonderful, you’ll see. I have to make a run into Fortuna this morning. Can I pick up anything for you?”
    “Oh, I hate to ask favors…” Becca said, taking a second bite of a fantastic omelet.
    Paige leaned on the bar, facing her. “What do you need?”
    “Well, if you’re anywhere near a store that sells sewing supplies, I need a seam ripper.” She lifted the leg with the cast and opened jeans. “I used a sharp knife this morning, but I can see the advantage of having the right equipment. Before I slice off a finger or something.”
    “I’ll not only be near that kind of store, I’ll be in one. I’m going to buy construction paper, glue and craft stuff. The kids all get out a little early today because of the holiday and we’re going to make some table favors for Thanksgiving dinner. The bar is usually quiet on Wednesday night before the holiday, so Jack and John can handle dinner alone. There are a bunch of town kids who want to make stuff for their tables.”
    Becca’s fork paused in midair. “Don’t they do crafts at school to bring home?”
    “Not so much,” Paige said. “They do have Thanks giving stories, an assembly program and they make stuff for the school bulletin boards, but nothing for our tables. And we’ll have a nice, big crowd here tomorrow. Of course, other people have big family gatherings, too, so we’re meeting in the church basement. It’s fun for the kids.”
    Becca put down her fork. “Can I