Free Home for the Holidays by Debbie Macomber Page B

lowered her slowly to the asphalt and released her with seeming reluctance. “I need a coffee break,” he announced grimly.
    â€œBut we just arrived.”
    Joe forcefully expelled his breath. “It doesn’t matter. I need something to calm my nerves.”
    If he needed a caffeine fix so early in the day, Cait wondered how he’d manage during the next few hours. The stores quickly became crowded this time of year, especially on a Saturday. By ten it would be nearly impossible to get from one aisle to the next.
    By twelve, she knew: Joe disliked Christmas shopping every bit as much as she’d expected.
    â€œI’ve had it,” Joe complained after making three separate trips back to the truck to deposit their spoils.
    â€œMe, too,” Cait agreed laughingly. “This place is turning into a madhouse.”
    â€œHow about some lunch?” Joe suggested. “Someplace far away from here. Like Tibet.”
    Cait laughed again and tucked her arm in his. “That sounds like a great idea.”
    Outside, they noticed several cars circling the lot looking for a parking space and three of them rushed to fill the one Joe vacated. Two cars nearly collided in their eagerness. One man leapt out of his and shook an angry fist at the other driver.
    â€œSo much for peace and goodwill,” Joe commented. “I swear Christmas brings out the worst in everyone.”
    â€œAnd the best,” Cait reminded him.
    â€œTo be honest, I don’t know what crammed shoppingmalls and fighting the crowds and all this commercialism have to do with Christmas in the first place,” he grumbled. A car cut in front of him, and Joe blared his horn.
    â€œQuite a lot when you think about it,” Cait said softly. “Imagine the streets of Bethlehem, the crowds and the noise…” The Christmas before, fresh from a shopping expedition, Cait had asked herself the same question. Christmas seemed so commercial. The crowds had been unbearable. First at Northgate, where she did most of her shopping and then at the airport. Sea-Tac had been filled with activity and noise, everyone in a hurry to get someplace else. There seemed to be little peace or good cheer and a whole lot of selfish concern and rudeness. Then, in the tranquility of church on Christmas Eve, everything had come into perspective for Cait. There had been crowds and rudeness that first Christmas, too, she reasoned. Yet in the midst of that confusion had come joy and peace and love. For most people, it was still the same. Christmas gifts and decorations and dinners were, after all, expressions of the love you felt for your family and friends. And if the preparations sometimes got a bit chaotic, well, that no longer bothered Cait.
    â€œWhere should we go to eat?” Joe asked, breaking into her thoughts. They were barely moving, stuck in heavy traffic.
    She looked over at him and smiled serenely. “Any place will do. There’re several excellent restaurants close by. You choose, only let it be my treat this time.”
    â€œWe’ll talk about who pays later. Right now, I’m more concerned with getting out of this traffic sometime within my life span.”
    Still smiling, Cait said, “I don’t think it’ll take much longer.”
    He returned her smile. “I don’t, either.” His eyes held hers for what seemed an eternity—until someone behind them honked irritably. Joe glanced up and saw that traffic ahead of them had started to move. He immediately stepped on the gas.
    Cait didn’t know what Joe had found so fascinating about her unless it was her unruly hair. She hadn’t combed it since leaving the house; it was probably a mass of tight, disorderly curls. She’d been so concerned with finding the right gift for her nephews and niece that she hadn’t given it a thought.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.
    â€œWhat makes you think