Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(70)

“Your father and I will pay for your ticket.”

The offer was tempting, but Linnette couldn’t let them do that. “No, Mom, I’m an adult. I’ll be home for a visit soon.”

“A visit,” her mother repeated slowly, her meaning clear. Corrie wanted Linnette to move back to Cedar Cove, especially now that Cal and Vicki were gone.

The truth was that Linnette hadn’t once considered doing so. She’d found solace in this small Dakota town. When she’d graduated as a physician assistant, it had always been her goal to use her medical skills in an out-of-the-way area, some rural community where the need was greatest.

Her parents, particularly her mother, had been unhappy when she left her job at the medical clinic in Cedar Cove. But more than ever, Linnette realized it’d been the right thing to do.

“Tell me how you’re spending Christmas Day,” Linnette said.

“We’re going to open gifts around ten. I suppose I can mail yours, although I don’t know if they’ll reach you in time.”

“Mom, thank you, but I don’t need anything.”

“Do you have an apartment now?”

Linnette nearly laughed out loud. Never having seen Buffalo Valley, her mother couldn’t begin to guess what this place was like. Until recently, she’d lived in a small room on the second floor of Three of a Kind. “There aren’t any apartments here, Mom. At the moment I’m renting a room from Hassie.”

“A room?”

“It works out well for both of us.” If everything went as she hoped, Linnette would have living quarters at the medical clinic. The state needed to approve all this, of course. The house they planned to use, which had been vacant for several years, would require a lot of renovation. Once the funding approval came through, at least twenty men and women—even teenagers—were ready, willing and able to tackle the project.

“You left a lovely apartment here,” Corrie said. “One with a great view.”

“But Mack told me he’s moving in! You must be pleased about that. And speaking of Mack, is there anyone special in his life these days?”

Her mother exhaled. “Not anyone he’s mentioned, but then you know your brother—he’s pretty tight-lipped about anything personal.”

“True,” Linnette said. She’d have to have a conversation with him soon, see what she could ferret out. “Listen, Mom, I’d better go.”

Her mother tried one more time. “Are you positive you won’t let your father and me buy you an airline ticket home?”

“I’m positive. I’ll call on Christmas Day, Mom.”

“It won’t be the same,” Corrie muttered.

“I know.”

They said goodbye and Linnette closed her cell phone, setting it on the table.

“Your mother’s awfully disappointed, isn’t she?” Pete asked, his blue eyes studying her. “And so are you.”

Linnette shrugged, wanting to make light of her own disappointment. “It’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. I don’t have to rush home to my family for the holidays.”

“But you’d like to be there, right?”

“Well, of course.” She picked up her bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich, but her appetite had vanished. Putting it back on her plate, she shoved it aside, leaving the bag of potato chips untouched.

Elbows on the table, Linnette surveyed the restaurant with its handful of customers. She knew it well; after all, Buffalo Bob Carr had hired her when she ended up in this town, low on cash and looking for a place to stay.

Now that she was here, however, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Not even Cedar Cove.

Bob came out from the kitchen, wearing a stained white apron. “The cream of mushroom soup’s ready, Pete, if you’re still interested.”

“Sure thing,” Pete called back.

“You can finish my sandwich if you want,” Linnette told him. Pete was six-three and had a hearty appetite.

“No, thanks. You should have it.”

Bob carried out a large bowl of soup, which he deposited in front of Pete. He glanced at Linnette. “You okay?” he asked with a concerned frown.

“Of course…I’m just not hungry.”

“It isn’t your lack of appetite that worries me. It’s the miserable look on your face,” he said bluntly.

“I am not miserable,” she said and then, to prove her point, she smiled up at him. “It’s December. Christmas is around the corner. How can I possibly be blue?”

“You’ve heard of ‘Blue Christmas,’ haven’t you?” Buffalo Bob asked. “Elvis sang that for a reason.”

“You ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,’ Bob,” she bantered back.

“Yeah, you too,” he said with a grin. “But seriously, Linnette—”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Bob’s physical appearance led strangers to assume he was a biker. He was a burly man who always wore jeans and a leather vest over a short-sleeved T-shirt. His thin hair was tied in a ponytail that hung nearly to the middle of his back. He might seem menacing, but as Linnette had immediately discovered, he had a huge heart. Watching him with his wife, Merrilee, and their three kids had told her exactly what kind of person he was.