Free Home for the Holidays by Debbie Macomber Page A

able to shove everything to one side. When she’d made room for herself, she fastened the seat belt, snapping it jauntily in place. She was so happy, the whole world seemed delightful this morning.
    â€œWill you quit smiling before someone suggests you’ve been overdosing on vitamins?” Joe grumbled.
    â€œMy, aren’t we testy this morning.”
    â€œWhere to?” he asked, starting the engine.
    â€œAny of the big malls will do. You decide. Do you have your list all made out?”
    Joe patted his heart. “It’s in my shirt pocket.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œHave you decided what you’re going to buy for whom?”
    His smile was slightly off-kilter. “Not exactly. I thought I’d follow you around and buy whatever you did. Do you know what you’re getting your mother? Mine’s damn difficult to buy for. Last year I ended up getting her a dozen bags of cat food. She’s got five cats of her own and God only knows how many strays she’s feeding.”
    â€œAt least your idea was practical.”
    â€œWell, there’s that, and the fact that by the time I started my Christmas shopping the only store open was a supermarket.”
    Cait laughed. “Honestly, Joe!”
    â€œHey, I was desperate and before you get all righteous on me, Mom thought the cat food and the two rib roasts were great gifts.”
    â€œI’m sure she did,” Cait returned, grinning. She found herself doing a lot of that when she was with Joe. Imagine buying his mother rib roasts for Christmas!
    â€œGive me some ideas, would you? Mom’s a hard case.”
    â€œTo be honest, I’m not all that imaginative myself. I buy my mother the same thing every year.”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œLong-distance phone cards. That way she can phone her sister in Dubuque and her high-school friend in Kansas. Of course she calls me every now and then, too.”
    â€œOkay, that takes care of Mom. What about Martin? What are you buying him?”
    â€œA bronze eagle.” She’d decided on that gift last summer when she’d attended Sunday services at Martin’schurch. In the opening part of his sermon, Martin had used eagles to illustrate a point of faith.
    â€œAn eagle,” Joe repeated. “Any special reason?”
    â€œY-yes,” she said, not wanting to explain. “It’s a long story, but I happen to be partial to eagles myself.”
    â€œAny other hints you’d care to pass on?”
    â€œBuy wrapping paper in the after-Christmas sales. It’s about half the price and it stores easily under the bed.”
    â€œGreat idea. I’ll have to remember that for next year.”
    Joe chose Northgate, the shopping mall closest to Cait’s apartment. The parking lot was already beginning to fill up and it was only a few minutes after eight.
    Joe managed to park fairly close to the entrance and came around to help Cait out of the truck. This time he didn’t bother with the step stool, but clasped her around the waist to lift her down. “What did you mean when you said I was so predictable?” he asked, giving her a reproachful look.
    With her hands resting on his shoulders and her feet dangling in midair, she felt vulnerable and small. “Nothing. It was just that I assumed you drove one of these Sherman-tank trucks, and I was right. I just hadn’t seen it before.”
    â€œThe kind of truck I drive bothers you?” His brow furrowed in a scowl.
    â€œNot at all. What’s the matter with you today, Joe? You’re so touchy.”
    â€œI am not touchy,” he snapped.
    â€œFine. Would you mind putting me down then?” His large hands were squeezing her waist almost painfully, though she doubted he was aware of it. She couldn’t imagine what had angered him. Unless it was the fact thatPaul had called her—which didn’t make sense. Maybe, like most men, he just hated shopping.
    He