Bring Me Home for Christmas

so poor!”
    “This town is like all towns, Becca—there’s a little of everything. And there are some folks real hard on their luck, but the people who can help, do. That’s worth a lot.” He pulled down the block, past three houses. “Here we are. There’s a porch—let me get you on the porch and come back for the box.”
    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