The Doc's Holiday Homecoming by Virginia McCullough

Author:Virginia McCullough
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-09-15T16:18:25+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

CARSON MEANDERED INTO the kitchen and plunked his elbows on the counter and held his chin in his palm. “This is so lame.”

Impatience rising in his chest, Jeff swallowed back a chastising remark. Instead, he asked, “What’s lame? You tell me, Carson.”

The boy didn’t meet his eye. Instead, he lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “This whole thing. Making a big deal out of Thanksgiving at the ranch. Why do we have to bake pies?”

“Pies? This is all about making a couple of pumpkin pies?” Jeff gave him a pointed look. “Want to tell me what’s really going on?”

While Carson stared at the granite counter, Jeff forced himself to wait for an answer rather than filling one in. Carson had been out of sorts over the last week or so leading up to Thanksgiving. Now it was Wednesday night, pie-baking night at Olivia’s. Without the TV on or music playing, the occasional crackle of the wood burning in the fireplace provided the only sound in the quiet house. Even Winnie lay stretched out, her head raised now as if she was waiting for something to happen. The dog went into full alert when Carson grabbed his jacket and stood by the door, as if waiting for Jeff.

With no answer forthcoming, Jeff handed Carson one of the two shopping bags, one with ingredients, the other with bowls and the pie plates. Jeff slipped on his own jacket and picked up the second bag.

The snow after Halloween had melted, but had been replaced by another inch or two a few days ago. Now it was snowing lightly again and covering what had become muddy ground on the mild day. “We’ll have to wipe off Winnie’s paws at the door,” Jeff said.

Carson patted his pocket. His voice was flat when he responded, “I stuffed a towel in my pocket earlier.”

Jillian opened the door to let them in. Jeff sighed in relief. No need to make conversation with the sullen teenager. On the other hand, when they put the bags of supplies inside the door and kicked off their boots, Carson gently cleaned Winnie’s paws with one of their new, thick, light gray towels. He answered his own question about why Carson hadn’t used one of the cleaning rags. Because he’s fourteen.

“We’re ready for you guys,” Olivia said.

Jillian took Carson’s jacket out of his hands. “I’m the cohost, so I hang up the coats.” She brushed off snowflakes. “I was watching the snow come down from my window.”

“Me, too,” Carson said, smiling now. “I don’t remember much snow in Seattle on Thanksgiving.”

Jillian hurried to the fireplace and sat back on her heels next to Winnie, who’d already found her spot. The dog extended her stretch, which Jillian took as an invitation to scratch the dog under her chin.

“We have a ton of blueberries and we already sliced up apples,” Olivia said. “All we have to do is roll the crust and dump the rest inside it.” She held up wrapped hunks of dough.

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