Christmas on Cape Cod Read online

  Also by Nan Rossiter

  Firefly Summer

  Nantucket

  Under a Summer Sky

  More Than You Know

  Words Get in the Way

  The Gin & Chowder Club

  Christmas on Cape Cod

  NAN ROSSITER

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Originally published in Making Spirits Bright

  Copyright © 2011 by Kensington Publishing Corporation copyright © 2011 by Rosalind Noonan Christmas on Cape Cod copyright © 2011 by Nan Rossiter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Attn. Sales Department. Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Printing: November 2011

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4883-1

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-4883-4

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Christmas on Cape Cod

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Christmas on Cape Cod

  NAN ROSSITER

  Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above ...

  —James 1:17

  Chapter 1

  “Dad, wake up!” There was a short pause and then the same soft voice whispered again with more urgency. “Dad ... Dad, wake up! We have to go find a tree! You said we had to get up early.” This time the plea was accompanied by gentle nudging and prodding. Asa Coleman opened one eye and squinted at the little face, which was inches from his nose. The face smiled. “Time to get up!” it announced cheerfully.

  Asa closed his eyes, pulled his pillow over his head, and pretended to fall back asleep. He heard a small sigh of frustration and, from under the pillow, pictured the little boy standing in the middle of the braided rug with his hands on his hips, the arms and legs of his new pajamas rolled up to fit his small frame. To add to the boy’s dilemma, Asa let out a loud snore. Almost immediately, there was a determined tug on the blanket ... but Asa just pulled back and snored again.

  It was quiet for a moment and he began to wonder what new plan was being hatched. He lay still, waiting, and felt the mattress press down under the weight of two small feet. He felt the two feet planting themselves firmly on either side of his legs and then he felt their weight shift as the small body leaned forward to take hold of the covers. Another moment passed and he could barely contain his laughter. But ... just as the unsuspecting perpetrator was about to give the covers a tremendous heave ... Asa threw off his pillow, spun around, and tackled him. The surprised boy giggled helplessly as Asa bounced him onto the bed and tickled him mercilessly.

  “Stop, Dad! Dad, stop!” the squealing, squirming boy pleaded breathlessly. “I’m going to wet my pajamas!”

  “What?!” Asa teased. “You mounted an attack on the enemy without going to the head first? What were you thinking, man?”

  The little fellow giggled, shrugged, and sputtered, “I don’t know!”

  Asa picked him up and set him on the floor. “Go ...” He watched the blond-haired boy run down the hall and wondered if he’d ever get used to being called “Dad.” He looked out the window and glanced at his bedside clock—not even six yet—Noah certainly was an early riser! Just then, he came running back down the hall, full tilt, and bowled his father onto the bed, attempting to return the tickle. Asa laughed, feigning surrender and protest, and tried to protect himself. Noah just giggled, truly believing he had the upper hand—until Asa turned the tables and the little fellow found himself on the bottom again, getting the worst of it.

  “Hey, what’s the idea of waking up your old man before it’s even light out?” Asa interrogated playfully.

  Noah was trying to catch his breath, and sputtered, “You said we had to find a tree!”

  “And ... how can we find a tree in the dark?” Asa teased.

  “Well, we have to have breakfast first,” Noah explained matter-of-factly.

  “We do?”

  “And you said we have to pack.”

  “Pack what?” Asa continued to tease.

  “Clothes ... and Christmas presents!” Noah answered with a beaming grin.

  “Oh ... no need to worry ’bout that.... I think you’re just getting coal for Christmas.”

  Noah looked dismayed.

  “Well ... have you been good?” Asa asked with a serious face.

  Noah nodded. “Mm ... hmm.”

  Asa cupped his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know ... I guess we’ll have to wait and see ...”

  “You’re just teasing,” Noah said hopefully.

  Asa shrugged, raised his hands palms up, and smiled. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and yawned. “So, what’re you making for breakfast?”

  “Da-ad!” Noah moaned despairingly. “You’re making breakfast!”

  “I am? Well, what am I making?”

  “Hmmm,” Noah said, cupping his own chin in thought. “How ’bout French toast?”

  “Are you goin’ to help?”

  “Sure!” Noah said, hopping off the bed and pulling Asa by the hand. Asa slowly relented, stopping only to pull on his jeans, and then shuffled to the kitchen.

  “First things first,” he said sleepily, reaching into the cabinet for the coffee.

  “Okay,” Noah said, opening the fridge and taking out the milk, orange juice, and butter. “How many eggs?” he asked.

  “Two.” Asa answered, absently measuring the coffee.

  Noah balanced the eggs in one hand and then reached into the back of the fridge for a small jug of maple syrup.

  “Gettin’ low,” he announced with authority.

  “Is there enough for today?”

  Noah shook the bottle and peered inside. Even though he couldn’t really see how much was left, he answered with optimism, “I think so.”

  With the coffee perking cheerfully, Asa pulled out the pancake griddle, set it on the stovetop, and lit the burners. Then he reached for the bread. “How hungry?”

  “Two,” Noah answered with a nonchalant shrug. Asa took out four slices of bread and Noah pushed an old oak chair over to the counter. Asa set the bowl in front of him and Noah looked up in surprise.

  “Go ahead ... you know how.”

  Noah grinned and reached for an egg, but, just as he cracked it, there was a knock at the door. He looked up and the eggshell fell into the bowl. With egg still dripping from his fingers, he hopped down and went to the door and opened it, smearing the knob in the proc
ess.

  Maddie peered around the door. “Am I too early?” Then she answered her own question as she unzipped her jacket. “Actually ... looks like I’m just in time!”

  Asa smiled at the rosy, freckled cheeks of his old friend and noticed that they were wet. “Is it snowing?” he asked.

  “Just started ... but not too hard.” She closed the door behind her and then looked from her hand to the doorknob.

  “Thank the chef,” Asa said, smiling and nodding toward Noah, who was back up on his chair, fishing out the eggshells. Maddie rinsed her hands and Asa handed her a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Mmmm, thanks. I knew there was a reason I liked you!” She blew softly on the coffee and a cloud of steam rose around her face. “Noah said I had to be here very early if I wanted to help pick out a tree—so, here I am!”

  “Well, you’re here just in time for my world-famous French toast!” Noah announced happily, pouring milk into the bowl.

  “Easy there,” Asa warned, watching the flow and wondering if Noah had picked up the phrase “world-famous” from his grandfather. He handed a third egg to him and took out two more slices of bread. “You should probably use a measuring cup,” he said, but Noah just shrugged and cracked the last egg. “And you should probably wash your hands!”

  Noah nodded, wiped his hands on his pajamas, splashed the eggbeater into the bowl, and began to churn with all his might. While he was still churning, Asa trickled vanilla into the mixture and sprinkled cinnamon on the froth of bubbles.

  Noah stopped and looked up at him with a serious face. “You should probably be using a measuring spoon ...”

  Asa looked down at his little counterpart. “And you should be careful ... or you might get another tickle!”

  Noah grinned and continued beating, and Asa reached over his head for a sifter, which was kept on an old, chipped plate with a painting of Nauset Light on it. The purpose of the plate was to catch any confectioner’s sugar that fell through the screen bottom. It was something Asa had learned in the kitchen of his childhood, but, even so, every time he reached for the sifter, he wondered if all sifters were kept on old, chipped plates. Still holding it in his hands, he looked at Maddie. “Maddie, where do you keep your sifter?”

  Maddie, who’d been sitting at the old oak table in the cheerful kitchen, sipping her coffee and watching them work together, smiled at the odd question. “On a plate, of course.”

  “Does your plate have a chip in it?”

  “Yup ... and a painting of the Franklin Pierce Homestead on it. I don’t think sifters work very well after they get wet. My mom washed hers once and, the next time she used it, brown rust sifted out.”

  Asa smiled ... mystery solved!

  Maddie stood up. “Here I am, not helping at all. Do you boys have a job for me?”

  Asa glanced over his shoulder. “Want to set the table?”

  “Okay,” she said. Maddie set out plates, napkins, and silverware, poured orange juice, and then stood by and watched as Asa showed Noah how to turn the French toast. She smiled at his gentle patience and thought, He makes a good dad.

  While it was still on the griddle, Noah cut the French toast diagonally, and then he arranged it in layers on a plate. He started to hand the plate to Maddie, but Asa stopped him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Noah looked puzzled for a second and then his face lit up. “Oh, yeah! Snow!” He hopped down and sifted confectioner’s sugar onto Maddie’s French toast. “Just like at the hotel on Lake Sunapee!” he said with a grin.

  “Thank you!” Maddie said, kissing the top of his head. “It looks absolutely yummy!”

  She sat down to wait for them, but Asa said, “Go ahead, while it’s hot.” She picked up the syrup, noted the light weight of the container, and drizzled it sparingly on her plate. She took a bite and, with a full mouth, said, “Oh my goodness, Noah, this is the best French toast I’ve ever had!”

  Noah looked up at Asa and beamed. “It’s world famous!”

  After breakfast, Asa cleared the table and filled the sink with hot, sudsy water. Outside the kitchen window, patches of morning sun flickered through the trees and shimmered on the cold gray ribbon of river that wandered through the property. Tiny sparkles of snow danced in the chilly air and melted when they landed. Asa glanced up at the clock. “Noah, if you’re finished, you need to get dressed, make your bed, and pack up. Don’t forget warm socks and underwear—and the new pants and sweater for church tonight—In fact, why don’t you just make a pile and I’ll check it first.”

  Maddie refilled her coffee cup, slipped the dish towel from the oven handle, and stood ready to dry. Noah brought his plate over to the sink and pulled on Asa’s shirt. Asa leaned down and Noah whispered, “Are we goin’ to have time to go to the Birdwatcher’s?”

  Asa whispered back, “We will if we get going soon.”

  Noah grinned and raced down the hall. Maddie looked at Asa questioningly, but he just smiled. “It’s a secret,” he said. They stood side by side, washing and drying, and since Maddie knew her way around the kitchen, she put everything away as she went. As she reached for the last juice glass, she looked over at Asa’s handsome face, lit by the sun. She recalled the many suppers and bottles of wine they had shared in his kitchen ... and sighed softly. Even though they had often talked into the night, Maddie had never been there for breakfast... and she’d never seen Asa’s face in the early morning sunlight.

  As she dried the plates, she thought back to the rainy summer day when they’d first met. Asa had just finished his freshman year of college and Maddie had just graduated from high school. In the six years since then, they had both earned degrees in education. Asa had found a job almost immediately teaching English at the local high school; and Maddie, inspired by her brother Tim, born with Down syndrome, had focused on special education and had found a part-time position in the elementary school.

  Noah’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Da-ad ... got my pile!”

  “Okay,” Asa called back, rinsing out the sink. “Be right there.” He smiled at Maddie. “Wish I could pack so quickly!” He dried his hands on the towel Maddie was holding. “Are you all ready, too?”

  “Yup ...” she answered. “I packed last night.”

  “Well,” he explained with a grin, “men never pack ’til the morning of ...”

  “Well, you better hurry up.” As she finished drying the silverware, she listened to Asa and Noah reviewing Noah’s pile and, by the time she was hanging the damp towel back on the oven handle, he was lugging his duffel into the kitchen. He plopped it by the door with a thud. “All ready!” he announced matter-of-factly.

  “Did you remember your dad’s present?” Maddie whispered.

  “Whoops!” Noah exclaimed, and ran back down the hall.

  Twenty minutes later, Asa had taken a quick shower, thrown some clothes in a bag, and was locking the cabin. Meanwhile, Maddie was helping Noah pile their bags beside two big cardboard boxes already in the back of Asa’s old Chevy pickup. “Must be lots of coal in these boxes,” Noah said loudly, trying to peer inside.

  Asa came over and eyed him. “Those are for Grandma and Grampa.” At the mention of Noah’s parents, Maddie suddenly remembered two pies she’d made the night before, apple and pumpkin, as well as the ingredients for the special holiday drink recipe that had been passed down for generations through her Swedish family. She retrieved everything from her car, and Asa and Noah peered inside the pie carrier. In unison, they expressed their anticipation for a taste, but Maddie quickly closed the top and wedged it into a corner of the truck bed. Asa cushioned it with his bag and then looked in the bag of drink ingredients—port wine and dried fruit.

  “Hmmm ... this looks interesting!” he said with a grin. He put the bag in the truck and looked around. “Well, is that everything?”

  “Except for the tree!” Noah declared.

  “Mmmm, except for the tree,” Asa repeated to himself, wondering if there was going to be
room for a tree ...

  They all piled into the cab with Noah in the middle, and Asa looked over Noah’s head at Maddie. “What do you think? John is north of here ... but not too far.”

  “If you think we have time.”

  Asa nodded and turned on the truck.

  Maddie teased, “You just want to see Sadie!”

  Asa smiled, knowing she was right.

  Chapter 2

  Asa had liked Maddie’s brother from the moment he met him, but, even more than he liked John, he loved Sadie. Sadie was John’s black Lab and she reminded Asa of Martha, the Lab he had growing up. Sadie, like Martha, was an old sweetheart with beautiful brown eyes. Whenever he went with Maddie to visit her brother and his family, Sadie would greet Asa with such unabashed abandon that, if she’d been a woman, her behavior would have bordered on embarrassing. After greeting him, Sadie would follow Asa around until he finally sat down, and then she would rest her chin on his thigh and gaze at him adoringly while he stroked her head. Asa would look into her intelligent eyes and see the same unconditional love and profound understanding with which Martha’s eyes had glistened.

  John would look at the two of them and say, “Asa, you should just take Sadie home with you. She’s obviously head-over-heels ... I mean, head-over-paws ... in love with you ... and she just mopes around after you leave.”

  Asa would laugh and consider the offer, but he knew he could never take Sadie away from John and his family. So, instead, when he left, Asa would take Sadie’s beautiful head in his hands, look in her loving eyes, and promise, “I’ll be back, ol’ girl ... I’ll be back.” Then, he’d kiss her on top of her head. At these moments, the memory of the last time he’d said good-bye to Martha was never far from his mind.