Welcome to Christmas, Texas: A Christmas Network Novel Read online

  “I know, or I would have gotten the blame for everything.” Nick watched as Chris managed to get everyone on the bus without complaint.

  “Thanks, DeeDee.” Nick one-arm hugged her.

  “You’re welcome. Tonight, I found out that herding seniors is a lot like herding my preschoolers when they’re cranky and need a nap.” DeeDee headed down the street, back to her husband’s family’s ranch.

  “Need a lift?” he called after her.

  “No, I’m good. It’s stopped raining for now.” She waved her flashlight at him. “’Night.”

  “’Night.” He waved back.

  As soon as the last senior was on the bus, the wind kicked up, and driving rain knifed at him from all directions.

  He grabbed his walkie and squeezed the button. “Nadine, call Janis at the Inn and let her know that thirty-eight grouchy senior citizens are headed her way.”

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 3

  “What do you mean I can’t help?” Lana propped her fist on left hip. “You need help, and I’m not one to stand around watching while other people do all of the work.”

  Janis shook her head. “You’re a guest.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m not registered, and I haven’t paid. Technically, I’m a squatter.” She had no idea if she was considered a squatter or not, but she was going to help Janis with the bus full of seniors whether she liked it or not.

  Janis sucked on her bottom lip thinking. “Okay, but if you get tired or your shoulder or neck start to hurt, promise me you’ll go straight to your room.”

  “Deal.” Lana stuck out her hand for Janis to shake.

  Janis shook her hand. “I like you.”

  “Back at you.” Lana grinned. “Where do we start?”

  She pushed up the sleeves of the red turtleneck. She was glad that she’d thrown that and a pair of jeans into her overnight bag. Now, if she’d only thought to pack some other shoes besides her ruined boots, she’d be in business. Since she’d decided to never wear those boots again, she was stuck with just socks.

  “We need to get you some shoes.” Janis glanced down at Lana’s feet. “What are you, a nine?”

  “Yes, good eye.” She was okay with going around in socks, but it was probably a good idea to wear shoes, but she wasn’t anxious to wear someone else’s old shoes.

  “I might have something.” She pointed to a closet. “Let me see.”

  She went deep into the walk-in closet and came out with an Ugg box. “A customer left these a while back. I think they’re your size.”

  She handed Lana the box.

  Lana opened the lid and inside was a brand-new pair of red Uggs with a red and white candy cane ribbon laced up the back. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Good, you keep them.” Janis smiled.

  “Are you sure? Somebody might want them back.” She pulled them out of the box and carefully pulled the tags off.

  “No one has called about them in over two years, so I think they’re yours. They don’t fit me, or I would have kept them.” Janis took the box and the tags and put them in the recycling bin underneath the front desk counter.

  Lana slipped them on. They hugged her feet in fluffy soft fleece. “Where do we start?”

  “We need more food. I have to be honest. I’m a one-trick pony. Beef stew is the only thing I know how to make, and it takes hours. Can you cook?” Janis sounded so hopeful.

  “As a matter of fact, I love to cook and bake. I’ve got the food. Just point me in the direction of the kitchen.” Lana looked around like there would be a sign that said kitchen.

  “Whew. I was hoping you could cook.” Janis sounded relieved. “Follow me. The pantry’s stocked so there shouldn’t be a problem with ingredients. Usually, my cousin Sue comes in to cook for the Inn, but she just had a baby.”

  While Lana’s shoulder and neck slightly ached, she was excited to cook. Usually, she worked eighty-hour weeks, so that didn’t leave much time for being creative in the kitchen. She was itching to dive in. She rubbed her hands together. “I’m actually excited to get cooking. I love it but don’t have much time to do it anymore.”

  “That’s too bad. I think doing what you love is what life’s all about.” Janie held the metal swinging door open for Lana.

  Lana had thought that too before she had adult responsibilities like a mortgage, payroll, and client meetings.

  The kitchen was amazing. Professional appliances gleamed as if they were new and every cooking gadget known to man either hung on the wall or sat on the gleaming stainless-steel countertops. “Wow. This is going to be fun.”

  “Those aren’t words I’ve ever spoken in the kitchen, but good for you.” Janis pointed to the walk-in fridge and freezer. “Besides the walk-ins, the dry pantry is over there. I’m going to go make some beds and stock more clean towels in the rooms. Make yourself at home.”

  “I will.” Lana jumped up and down like a kid waiting to open her presents on Christmas morning. “I’m thinking we need comfort food.”

  “Trust me, the food would be a whole lot less comfortable if I made it. I’m so glad the cooking’s on you, and I’m sure the guests will be too.” Janis walked out of the swinging door.

  Lana slipped her phone out of her back jeans pocket and pulled up her recipe app. She searched for her grandmother’s chicken noodle soup recipe and her own recipe for mac and cheese.

  She walked into the pantry and looked around. She spotted elbow macaroni. She grabbed two extra-large bags, a couple of onions, a head of garlic, and some spices. She dumped her armload on the closest countertop and headed into the refrigerator.

  Inside, there was every kind of cheese imaginable. She grabbed fontina, swiss, blue cheese, cheddar, and gouda. She picked up a carton of milk, one of cream, a couple of sticks of butter, and debated about bacon. Bacon mac and cheese was the food of the gods, but what if dietary restrictions or religious beliefs didn’t allow for pork. She left the bacon.

  Mac and cheese was the king of comfort food, and it was easy to chew. She put a large pot of salted water on to boil and chopped the onions. She threw a large pat of butter into a huge frying pan and got the onions on to caramelize.

  For those who were lactose intolerant, she’d make a chicken noodle soup. She went back into the fridge and came out with three whole chickens. She found another large pot, rinsed the chickens off, set them in the pot, and covered them partway with water. She added salt, a few other spices, and put that on to boil. She went back into the fridge and grabbed celery, carrots, fresh thyme, and parsley. Back in the pantry, she picked up more onions, dried oregano, more garlic, bay leaves, and several glass jars of chicken bone broth. She rough cropped the veggies and threw them into the chicken pot with the bone broth, oregano, and bay leaves.

  Now that she had the stock going, she went back to the cheese. She grated mounds of all of the cheese except the blue cheese which she cut into cubes.

  Forty-five minutes later, she put the finishing touches on the soup, mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookies, and took the mac and cheese out of the oven. She noticed that she had nothing green, so she threw together a salad and a quick vinaigrette.

  “Need any help?” Janis popped her head into the doorway.

  “Yes, if you could take these out to the dining room, that would be a huge help.” She pointed to the mac and cheese and the salad.

  “The guests are getting settled. I’ve put out plates, silverware, and napkins on the buffet table. After I take these out, I’ll let everyone know that dinner is ready.” Janis picked up the potholders next to the mac and cheese used them to carry out the large pan.

  Lana scooped out cookie dough onto two parchment paper lined baking sheets and set them in the oven to bake for twelve minutes.

  Janis walked back through the swinging door. “Is the soup ready? They set upon the mac and cheese like starving dogs. Apparently, their tour didn’t include lunch.”

  “Take the salad out and t
hen come back for the soup. We’ve also got your stew, and I’ve got cookies in the oven. Think we need biscuits?”

  “There’s always room for biscuits.” She grabbed the salad and backed out through the door.

  Lana searched her recipe app for her grandmother’s biscuit recipe that she’d finally perfected and pulled the ingredients together. There wasn’t time to freeze the butter, but she used the coldest, firmest butter in the fridge. She tossed the ingredients into the food processor, and in no time, she was rolling them out. They also went into the oven for twelve minutes.

  “I’m back for the soup.” Janis looked harried.

  “You look like you could use some help.” Lana glanced at the oven. “As soon as I take the cookies and the biscuits out, I’m yours.”

  Janis picked up the potholders and used them around the handles of the giant pot. “You’re a life saver. Several of the townspeople have wandered in to help. Take your time.”

  She bustled out of the kitchen.

  It must be nice to have friends and neighbors who would drop everything and come in to help perfect strangers. She’d lived in her condo for four years, and she still had yet to meet her neighbors. Knowing the neighbors was certainly the upside to small town living, although she supposed that she could meet her neighbors even in a city the size of Austin. She’d just never taken the time, and neither had her neighbors. It seemed like everyone was so busy.

  She glanced at the timer on the convection oven. She cookies were almost ready. She rummaged around in a storage room until she found several trays. She pulled out two, wiped them off, and set them down on the counter. The cookies would be easier to eat on napkins, so she went in search of them. She found some paper Christmas napkins and slapped one after the other down on the trays like she was dealing cards.

  The timer buzzed on the top oven. She pulled out the cookies and set them on the counter. They needed to cool on the cookie sheet. After two minutes to scooped them onto the napkins.

  A petite round woman with white hair and apple-red cheeks peeked her head into the kitchen. “I was told that you could use a second pair of hands.”

  “Yes.” Lana waved her in. “I would love some help.”

  The timer for the second oven dinged, and Lana grabbed her oven mitts and opened the oven. The smell of fresh biscuits filled the air.

  “Those smell fantastic.” The lady had chubby cheeks and faint laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. She held out her hand. “I’m Nell.”

  Lana put the baking sheet down and took off her oven mitt. “Lana.”

  “I’ll get us some butter and peach preserves so we can enjoy a couple of those biscuits. I bet out of all of the food you’ve made tonight, you haven’t had a bite.” Nell smiled and turned to the fridge. She had the faintest hint of an accent like English wasn’t her first language but she’d spoken it for a very long time.

  “I had a bowl of Janis’s stew. It was excellent.” Her stomach rumbled. “But I guess I’m still hungry.

  Nell reminded Lana of her grandmother—always smiling and ready for a hug.

  It was strange to want to hug a total stranger, but Lana found that she had to hold herself back.

  The woman was back in a flash with a jar, judging by the label, of homemade peach preserves and a stick of butter.

  Lana set out two napkins and plucked a biscuit down on each.

  Nell grabbed two butter knives and a spoon out of the silverware drawer. She unscrewed the lid of the preserves and set the jar down. “I love homemade biscuits. Mine are never this fluffy.”

  “The secret is the butter. You have to work with really cold butter—frozen is better—and then either grate it or chop it into tiny pieces. Work it into the dry ingredients but still leave pea-sized pieces so that when they bake they puff up.” Lana took the other butter knife and cut two large pats of butter. She sliced open the biscuits and stuffed in the butter. “I hope you like lots of butter.”

  “Who doesn’t like lots of butter?” Nell the spoon and dipped it into the preserves. She handed it to Lana. “Taste this and tell me what you think?”

  Lana brought the spoon to her mouth and her eyes almost crossed. Hands down these were the best preserves she’d ever tasted. “They are fantastic. Seriously, whoever made them should contact Whole Foods to sell them.”

  Nell beamed. “Well, thank you. I made them. My husband and I have a peach orchard, and I make gallons of preserves. We can’t eat all of it, so I give some away to family, friends, and neighbors. I drop off a couple of cases here, too.”

  “You made this? Would you mind sharing the recipe? It’s super peachy and not overly sweet. There’s a little bite at the end.” Lana thought about it. “Ginger. It’s ginger, right?”

  “Very good. No one has ever been able to figure that out before.” Nell pulled her into a one-armed hug. “Beware, I’m a hugger. Can’t help it.”

  “That’s so funny. I’ve been fighting back the urge to hug you since you walked in.” It was strange since Lana wasn’t a hugger.

  Nell gave her an extra squeeze and then dropped her hand. “Let’s eat.” She slathered on a mountain of preserves onto each biscuit.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Lana bit into her biscuit and again, almost crossed her eyes. She swallowed. “With the melted butter, the ginger really comes out.”

  “I know. The preserves are also good on top of vanilla ice cream.” Nell took a bite and put her hand over her heart. “These biscuits are like pillows of softness.”

  “Thank you. These are my grandmother’s recipe. She loved to bake.” Lana couldn’t help smiling when she spoke of her Grandma Doris. “Besides incredible preserves, what else do you make?”

  “I make a mean Christmas sugar cookie, or so I’ve been told. And I love to make Kruidnoten, which are like little gingerbread cookies.” She took another bite.

  “Kruidnoten, I’ve had those. A boyfriend I had in college’s mother used to make them and send them to him. I love Kruidnoten.” She nodded. “He also introduced me to Oliebollen which I have to say were the best doughnuts I’ve ever had.” Lana almost swooned. “Any culture that advocates the eating of fried dough on New Year’s Eve is one I can get behind. So, you’re Dutch? I thought I heard a slight accent.”

  “I am, but my husband and I moved away from Holland a long time ago.” She nodded. “Most people don’t notice the slight accent.”

  “My old boyfriend had it, so I was able to recognize it.” Lana had thought that Nick might have been the one–until he left her high and dry with absolutely no explanation. Not even a goodbye text. Even eight years later and it still hurt.

  “What happened to your old boyfriend?” Nell patted her hand. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  Lana never talked about the past or her problems because her mother had taught her from a very young age that no one liked a whiner. “Nothing. After we graduated from Texas A&M University, he just left. I never heard from him again.”

  Nell’s bright eyes twinkled. “I believe in true love so, if it’s meant to be, the two of you will meet again.”

  Lana wanted to believe that, but eight years without so much as a ‘hey’ from him made it hard. It wasn’t like she wasn’t easy to find. She still had the same phone number she’d had in college. They really needed a subject change. “About those sugar cookies … are they both delicate and sturdy enough to stand up to frosting?”

  Okay, so Lana might not like Christmas, but she could appreciate a good sugar cookie.

  “Yes.” Nell slipped the last bit into her mouth and then dusted off her hands. “If you promise not to tell, I’ll show you how to make them. Janis has hounded me for the recipe for years, but I think a few secrets make friendship so much more exciting.”

  “Me too.” A little mystery was always good.

  “We have a huge Christmas cookie decorating contest in the square tomorrow evening right before we light the town’s Christmas tree. I’d love some help baking them
.” Nell held her hands palm up in a don’t-worry-about-it gesture. “If you can’t, I understand.”

  “I’d love to help with the cookies.” The weight of decorating sheets and sheets of cookies with her father squeezed her heart. Tears stung her eyes. She’d spent hours decorating Christmas cookies with her father. “I’m not much for decorating them, but I’d love to make them.”

  If she ignored Christmas maybe she wouldn’t miss her father so much.

  The older woman pulled her into a tight hug. There was no pity, just comfort. “Memories can make you smile too. I sense that you’ve lost someone. Not all memories will make you sad. Sometimes it’s good to take them out and laugh at the good ole days.”

  “How did you know?” Lana wiped the stupid tears running down her face. It was embarrassing standing here and crying in front of a stranger.

  “I’m guessing that you lost someone around Christmas. It’s hard to lose a loved one anytime, but especially when it’s close to a holiday. It makes the holiday difficult.” Nell rocked her back and forth just like her father had done after her first boyfriend had broken her heart.

  “My father. He died on Christmas, ten years ago. Since then, I haven’t been much of a Christmas person.” Lana enjoyed the feeling of being hugged. Her mother wasn’t a hugger, but her father had given excellent hugs. “You are very intuitive.”

  Nell dropped her arms and smiled. “I noticed that you were crying. I intuited the obvious.” She wiped the tears from Lana’s face. “We’re going to have to make this Christmas extra-special for you.”

  Lana smiled. “I wish I could stay, but I have to leave in the morning.”

  Now that she thought about it, she really did wish she could stay, which was something she would have never thought would happen in a town named Christmas.

  “I have a feeling that we’re going to be close friends.” Nell headed to the pantry. “You take the biscuits out to the hungry travelers, and I’ll gather the ingredients for my Christmas cookies.”