The Christmas Family

She didn’t know if she was making the right choice or not, but for her, refusal was the only choice.

* * *

“So how’s the home makeover going?” Dawson asked as he plopped down next to Brady on the couch at Mom’s house the next Sunday afternoon.

“It’s not.” Brady stuck his hand in the chip bowl and filled his paw with Fritos and tossed one to Dawg.

“No?” Sawyer joined the pair in the family room waiting for the NFL game to come on. From the kitchen came smells of hot Ro*Tel cheese dip and homemade chili as the seven siblings gathered for the weekly after-church hangout and football frenzy. “Why not?”

“Abby changed her mind.” Brady was, he had to admit, pretty steamed about that little turn of events. What kind of woman turned down a new house when she could obviously use it, especially when her kid had needs that weren’t being addressed by her current residence? And the way she’d refused, without so much as a reason, irritated him.

“I thought she was on board.” Dawson crunched down on a chip. “What did you do?”

“You think this is my fault?” Like the fiasco on the Crystal Ridge building site. According to Dad, Brady should have foreseen the decorative-rock mix-up. Now he had an entire fireplace to demolish and start all over, as if deadlines weren’t tight enough. Even the church service, where he usually found some peace, hadn’t eased the stress tightening the back of his shoulders. This deal with Abby was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He glared at his twin brothers—first Sawyer and then Dawson had blamed him for the problem. If steam wasn’t coming out of his ears, he’d be surprised. He’d enjoyed that barbecue supper with Abby Webster and her little girl. Maybe that’s what bugged him most. He’d liked her. He thought she liked him.

Dawson raised both hands in surrender. “You’ll hear no blame from me. I only meant, what’s going on? Why did she back out?”

“Who knows? Abby Webster is the strangest, most stubborn woman I’ve ever encountered.”

Dawson gave him a long look. “I thought you liked her.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling wasn’t mutual, I guess. She showed me the door.”

“So, what did she say?”

“Just that she couldn’t. It wouldn’t work.”

“Couldn’t what? What wouldn’t work?” Sawyer, the mirror twin to Dawson, stretched his long legs out on the floor next to the sofa. By the time the game started there would be Buchanons all over the room. Brady was happy he’d gotten here first to grab a seat on the couch, but he usually ended up on the floor with Dawg.

He had a quick flash of Dawg on the floor of Abby’s house with Lila, the angel-drawing charmer. He’d seen her pink ankle braces and the walker she used for balance. Abby’s house, with the crooked floors and raised thresholds, was a hazard to Lila. He really wanted to do that makeover for the little girl.

“Long story short, the house is a wreck. Joist rotted, leaks everywhere, bad plumbing. There’s so much wrong, I wouldn’t spend a dime to remodel it.”

“Then you’re the one who backed out,” Dawson said. “I knew I should have gone with you.”

“No.” Brady frowned at a Frito and then at his brother. “I offered a new house instead of the remodel. Raze the old one, build from the ground up. It’s only a matter of time until she’ll have no choice but to move.” He’d never built from ground up before on one of his makeovers, but why not?

Dawson turned a bewildered face in his direction. “She turned down a new house?”

“Flat. No reason. Just no.”

“That is weird.”

“See?” He pointed a Frito. “I told you.”

“Her little girl sure is cute. Kind of gets you right here.” Dawson tapped his chest with a fist. “I thought Abby would go for it for her sake.”

“Yeah.” Brady popped the chip in his mouth and considered going to the kitchen for the Ro*Tel dip. “Pretty adorable kid.”

“A kid who needs a handicap-accessible house.”

“I don’t get it,” Sawyer said. He dragged a throw pillow from the sofa and shoved it under his dark head. “Why would the mom refuse? Makes no sense.”

“Take it from the top, Brady,” Dawson said. “What exactly went down? She was on board before you mentioned the rebuild. When did things go sour?”

Brady related the conversation, trying his best to remember the exact point when Abby backed away. “It was the demolition. She said it would never work. After that—” He drew a finger across his throat. “The project was dead.”

“Hmm.” Dawson pushed back against the cushions of Mom’s enormous gray sectional. His Dallas Cowboys jersey stretched across his lean, toned chest. Like all the Buchanon brothers, he’d played college football and was still a fanatic about the game. “She said it wouldn’t work? Wonder what she meant by that? What wouldn’t work?”

Brady’s shoulders hitched. “You got me. I promised a fast rebuild so she wouldn’t have to live elsewhere very long.”

Dawson snapped his fingers and leaned forward. “Could that be the problem?”

“What? She didn’t believe we could work that fast?”

“No. The living-elsewhere part.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I get it.” Sawyer sat up and thumped the pillow with his fist. “Maybe she doesn’t have another place to live. Or maybe money for the rent, even for a few months, would be prohibitive. A waitress doesn’t make much money, and with the little girl’s special needs...”

“True, but they could stay with relatives,” Dawson said.

Brady shook his head. “According to my sources, she doesn’t have any. Grew up in foster care, I think, and her little girl’s father skipped out on her before Lila was born. It’s just Abby and Lila against the world, which was part of the reason I chose them.”

“That poor girl.” Karen Buchanon breezed into the room bearing hot cheese dip. Behind her was Brady’s adored younger sister, Allison, a peanut of a woman with dark, flippy hair. Her fiancé, Jake Hamilton, once an outcast in the Buchanon household, would show up at some point in the afternoon after checking on his cattle and his grandmother.

“I never considered her living arrangements, but that could be the problem,” Brady admitted. “Maybe she has nowhere to go.”

“And no spare money for a rental, even a cheap one.” Dawson took both hands, rotated his head and popped his neck. “Crick,” he said to no one in particular.

Brady arched an eyebrow. “You don’t get much cheaper than her house.”

“But it’s hers.”

“I wonder why she didn’t simply tell me she had no place else to live during the rebuild. If that’s the case.”

“Oh, Brady.” His mother stood behind Dawson and began kneading his shoulders. “If the girl has any pride at all, which she clearly does, she wouldn’t tell you such a thing. No one wants to be pitied.”

Brady opened his mouth and then closed it again, the salty taste of chips making him thirsty. “You think that’s her problem?”

“Makes sense to me,” Dawson said, settling into his mother’s massage with his eyes closed. “Though it’s your problem, not hers.”

“Ditto,” said Sawyer.

Brady had always been surrounded by a huge family, sometimes to the point of smothering. He couldn’t fathom anyone being completely alone, but if Abby Webster had no one but her four-year-old daughter, she was a pretty amazing woman. Really amazing. She’d bought a house, such as it was, and balanced a job with the needs of her special child. Lila was clearly loved and well cared for.

“I guess I embarrassed her.”

“No doubt about it.” His mom left Dawson’s side to pat Brady’s shoulder. “But you meant well, honey.”

Brady put his big paw over her hand. “Thanks, Mom. Any ideas of how to fix it?”

“Fix it? No. But I might have an idea of how to get her out of that house so you can build her a new one. Dad won’t mind.”

“If it involves Dad, forget it. He’s against the project this year.”

“I heard.” She smiled. “But you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”

“If I can convince Abby to let me.”

“Good.” She tugged at her pressed slacks and perched on the arm of an easy chair. “Abby’s excited about the makeover. She wants it, son.”

“How do you know this?”

“Jan, Abby’s boss, talked to me at the BPW meeting.” Mom was president of the local chapter of Business and Professional Women. “She was thrilled for Abby. She also told me what a hard worker Abby is and how well she takes care of her little girl. According to Jan, no one deserves your makeover any more than Abby and Lila Webster. That’s why I’m willing to step in and help out.”

Brady looked at his mother in awe. “Is there anything in this town you don’t know?”

Her eyes crinkled. “Not much.”

Sawyer snorted. Dawson just smiled. Allison found an empty space next to Sawyer, curled her little feet beneath her and reached for the dip.

“Yeah, well, that still doesn’t solve the problem. I can’t move her in with me.” Though the thought didn’t exactly repulse him. Dawg would be thrilled.

“But I can move her in with me.”

Four sets of sibling eyes turned to their mother. She pushed back a lock of tidy blond hair, a cat’s smile on her lips.

“Since you kids built your own places, Dad and I ramble around in this big old, empty house. We’ve got the room. Abby needs a temporary place to stay, and a child always makes Christmas season more fun. So why not?”

“You’d do that?” Brady didn’t know why he was asking. Of course, she’d do it. In the past, she’d mothered a number of foreign-exchange students along with her brood of seven. And that didn’t count the handfuls of friends and relatives who’d lived temporarily in the Buchanon house, including Jake, Allison’s fiancé. Mom loved having the house filled with people.

“I think it’s a great idea.” This from Allison.

Brady, for all the hope suddenly surging through his veins, had his doubts. Mom might be on board, but what would Abby think? The Buchanons were strangers to her, and the family didn’t know Abby like he knew Abby. She was stubborn, prideful, independent to a fault. Pretty, too, he’d noticed, though why his thoughts had gone in that direction he couldn’t fathom. “I don’t know. Think she’ll go for it?”

Mom arched one eyebrow and reached for a chip. “There’s only one way to find out.”

* * *

“Someone here to see you, Abby. Take a break.”

Abby slid a tray of dishes onto the sink in the back of the diner and turned toward her boss. The noon rush had passed but there was still plenty to do. “Who is it?”

“Karen Buchanon.”

“Karen Buchanon?” If Jan had said Brady, she wouldn’t have been surprised. In fact, she’d probably have gotten that jittery wiggle in her stomach, a totally stupid reaction to a man she barely knew. But he was a good guy who could cause Prince Charming fantasies even in a hard nut like her. She also felt a little guilty for upsetting him. He’d offered an act of kindness and she’d shot him down.

Yesterday, he’d come into the Buttered Biscuit with a big grin and a crazy invitation for her and Lila to temporarily move in with his parents while he built her brand-new house. Even though her heart had leaped at the offer, he could not have been serious. Well intentioned, yes. Serious, no way.

She didn’t know the Buchanons. They didn’t know her. Things like that didn’t happen except in movies. And how had he known a decent place to live was her primary reason for rejecting the makeover?

Five minutes later, as she sat across an open table from the blonde and lovely Buchanon matriarch, she learned how serious Brady had been. “Mrs. Buchanon, please don’t take this the wrong way, but why? Why would you open your home to a complete stranger?”

“My family has been tremendously blessed, and we believe that caring about others is not only a directive from the Lord but it makes us happier people. We love to give. Brady’s gifts are in his ability to build, and he loves giving away a Buchanon Built home at Christmas. He plans for it and looks forward to it all year.”

Abby fidgeted with the saltshaker, realized what she was doing and shoved it back to the side of the table. Brady had hinted that the Buchanons were devout Christians, but so were lots of people in Texas and none of them gave away houses. At least none that she knew about. “There are other people in Gabriel’s Crossing who could use a makeover.”

“My son’s heart is the biggest part of him and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, that’s saying a lot. When Brady sets his sights on something, he’s a bulldog.”

“But why me?”

“It’s the way Brady’s made. He picked you and you’re it.” She folded her hands atop the table. “I do know this. He was taken with your little girl. He told the family about her, showed us the angel she drew him and even hung it on his refrigerator.”

A piece of pride chipped away. “He did?”

Karen nodded. “‘An angel from an angel,’ he said. Now, we’re all anxious to meet her. She must be amazing.”

“Oh, she is. Lila is the kindest, funniest, smartest, most resilient—” She caught herself and laughed, self-conscious and sure her warm face glowed pink. “Sorry. I get a little carried away about my daughter. She’s everything to me.”

“Then do this for her, Abby. Let Brady build your house. Give that amazing daughter of yours a new home for Christmas. And give us the pleasure of knowing your special little girl.”

Unbidden tears welled in Abby’s eyes. Buchanons didn’t play fair.

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