Free Bring Me Home for Christmas by Robyn Carr

talk?”
    “We’ll be boarding in about ten,” he said. “Go ahead.”
    “Well, I’ve had a little accident,” she said. “Nothing to worry about, but I broke my ankle and have a splint. I’ll be on crutches for six weeks.”
    “Becca,” he said in a disapproving tone.
    “I jumped out of my brother’s truck and landed wrong. So much for hunting and fishing.”
    “Get a ride to the nearest airport and use that credit. Meet me in Boston, I’ll drive you to Cape Cod….”
    “Well, here’s the thing. I’m stranded. Can’t travel. Can’t even drive home with Rich on Sunday. I have to get the splint taken off and the ankle checked by the doctor.”
    “Why can’t you travel?”
    “Aside from the fact that I can’t manage my luggage on crutches, you mean?”
    “Becca, that’s what five dollar bills are for—skycaps.”
    “Oh,” she said. “Of course.” Doug Carey didn’t schlepp bags. “Well, the main reason is that my leg has to be elevated so it doesn’t swell. And it would be very bad if it swelled under the splint. And I guess the danger of blood clots if I’m on a long flight or drive is a factor. Best to just wait for the all clear.”
    “And then?”
    “Well, I guess then I’ll get a flight home. Me and my five dollar bills…”
    He actually laughed. “Only you, Becca.”
    “Yeah,” she said. “What a klutz, huh?” Only a surfing champion with wicked good balance! “Listen, on the off chance you get some wild, insane urge to speak to my mother, please do not call her and tell her about this.”
    “Why?” he asked.
    “Because she and Dad went to Mexico for the holiday and I don’t want them to worry or come back early. Just don’t.”
    “It never occurred to me, but point taken. Dare I hope you got this out of your system?”
    “This?” she asked.
    “Hunting and fishing,” he said. “Will you be off crutches by Christmas?”
    “Very close, but I’ll be cleared to travel much sooner than that.”
    “Good. Because I just picked up a great Napa package we can use around Christmas—a vineyard tour. It was supposed to be a surprise, but since I won’t see you, I’m telling you now.”
    Right then, Denny came into the room, carrying her crutches. He gave her a smile and pointed at them. She pointed at the floor by the couch.
    And suddenly, even though one of them was in the room and one hundreds of miles away at an airport, she could see both men as if they were standing beside each other. Denny was wearing jeans, boots, a plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves and looked like a woodsman, while she knew Doug would be in dress slacks with a cashmere sweater, carrying his leather jacket in preparation for the cold Boston winter. The lumberjack next to the metrosexual.
    “How does that sound, babe?” Doug went on.
    “Great. Nice. Fun.”
    “I have a list of all the tasting rooms—we’ll go over it before we even head that way. Decide exactly which vineyards appeal to us most.”
    “Sure,” she said.
    Denny put down the crutches and began to leave the room, heading back for the bar.
    “There’s my call—we’re boarding. I love you, babe,” he said.
    “Have a safe trip.”
    “Becca. I said, I love you.”
    “Love you, too,” she said. But she said it quietly.
    Not quietly enough. Denny paused, stiffened just slightly, then continued on. And she thought, Crap. I’m screwed.

    Becca relaxed on the sofa for a while before she grabbed up her crutches and made her way to the bathroom. She managed just fine. A little slow, maybe, but she never put weight on her foot and didn’t fall, either. Surfing was better than skiing or ballet for balance.
    Suddenly, she realized Doug never asked her where she was staying. Never asked if she needed him. His most immediate concern was whether she’d be able to travel when he wanted to take his Napa tour… She had a premonition of what life was going to be like—it was going to revolve around Doug. Of course. He was the busy one,