New Beginnings (4 page)

“That was very thoughtful of you.”

She leaned her head back again. “I think I must be getting old.”

“Nonsense. You’re as spry as you ever were.” Sitting down on the couch, he stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle, and wiggled his toes. “And just as beautiful too,” he added.

She opened one eye. “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”

“It’s true. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I behold you just as I always have, lass. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”

A weary smile lifted her lips just as his words lifted her spirits. Of course, what he was saying wasn’t true. Her hair was almost entirely gray now and she had enough wrinkles that her face was beginning to look like a topographical map.

Then again, in her eyes, Cameron Scott was still as handsome as he’d ever been, maybe even better. With maturity he seemed to have gained an aura of hidden strength that served him well.

Yes, growing old together, still loving each other, was the perfect antidote after a long, tiring day.

Elena woke from her nap at seven o’clock. Her head felt much clearer than it had earlier, the anesthetic having worked its way out of her system.

Gingerly, she sat up. The pull of stitches tugged at her midsection, and her insides felt as though they had been rearranged. But laparoscopic surgery led to a far less painful recovery than more invasive techniques.

In the bathroom, she threw some water on her face and found her robe. As she opened the bedroom door, she heard Izzy’s childish whisper and a responding female voice.

Her brows lifted.
Sarah’s here?

The family appeared to have gathered in the kitchen and adjacent living room. Rafael sat in the recliner, an amused expression on his face as he watched Sarah and Izzy making…a cloud of flour dust?

“What on earth are you two making?” Elena asked.

Izzy squealed and wiped a speck of flour off her glasses. “Buela’s awake!” She hopped down from the step stool she’d been standing on at the counter and raced to Elena, pulling up short before smashing into her. “Mommy and me are making shortcake!”

Color seeped through the flour covering on Sarah’s face. “I brought frozen strawberries and whipped cream. I thought homemade shortcake and berries would make a nice dessert, if you’re hungry.” She glance at the countertop. “I’m afraid we got carried away dusting the cake pan.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“There’s more flour on her than in the cake.” Rafael eased out of the recliner and strolled over to Sarah, looping his arm around her shoulders. “Isn’t that right, Miss Shortcake Beauty Queen?” There was a teasing glint in his eyes when he looked at the mother of his child.

Sarah blushed again and slid her gaze away. For a second, Elena felt like the world had stopped. This new development in Rafael and Sarah’s relationship was such an answer to prayer.

“She brought some great chicken soup for dinner too,” Rafael added. “Lots of rice and veggies. You’ll like it.”

Sarah quickly turned on the stove under the pot of soup. “It will only take a minute or two to warm up.”

Izzy took Elena’s hand and tugged her toward the table. “I can help you sit down at the table. Mommy says you have to rest a lot.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” Settling in her chair at the retro chrome and Formica table, Elena gave Izzy a hug.

Cesar strolled into the room. “You’re up. Shouldn’t you still be sleeping?”

She took his hand. “I woke feeling quite rested, so I’m going to have some of Sarah’s chicken soup.”

“It’s good too.” Cesar winked.

“Word is, she’s been keeping her talents hidden under a basket all these years,” Rafael said.

“All I did was read a recipe,” Sarah said, chuckling.

“Yeah, but you read it right. Not everyone can do that.” He tapped a fingertip on her flour-dusted nose. “Shortcake.”

Looking up, Elena met Cesar’s gaze. He gave a don’t-ask-me shrug, and she smiled. The relationship between Sarah and her son appeared to be progressing toward a new level, one that might just become permanent.

T
HREE DAYS AFTER HER SURGERY, ELENA HAD
regained a lot of her strength, although she found that she needed an afternoon nap. But she felt so much better than she had before her surgery.

Sitting in the recliner in the living room, she was doing some hand embroidery on the red velvet cape she was making for Izzy’s Christmas Eve show at church—little green Christmas trees with colorful ornaments on each tip of the collar. She smiled, thinking Izzy was going to look beautiful in the cape.

She heard the back door open.

Moments later Cesar stepped into the kitchen. “I’m home!”

“Yes, I heard you come in.” She didn’t look up from her needlework.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. A really big surprise.”

She tucked the needle securely in the fabric. “You’ve been promoted to chief of police?”

“Nope.” He pulled up a chair in front of her. “Better than that.”

Not that she’d expected him to be promoted, but what could be better than that? Of course, only a year ago he’d been promoted to detective, which had been exciting enough. “Is it larger than a bread box?”

He chuckled. “It’s not that kind of surprise.”

“Okay, Mr. Police Detective. What have you got up your sleeve this time?”

He’d been even more worried about her surgery than she had. Ever since, he seemed to be walking around with a grin on his face, his footsteps as light as those of a ballroom dancer.

“I’ve been talking with Margo Battles.”

Elena’s forehead puckered. The name sounded familiar but she couldn’t quite place—

“Margo at Worldwide Travels in downtown Deerford.”

Why would he be talking to a travel agent?

Her heart lunged in her chest. Her face flamed at the same time shivers skittered down her spine. Her mouth opened but she couldn’t get out a single sound.

His grin broadened and his dark eyes shone with excitement. He held out what appeared to be two airline tickets.

“Where…?” Breathless, she stammered. “Where are we going?”

“To Málaga, Spain, querida. We’ll be there in time for the flamenco competition.”

Elena screamed. She tossed aside the velvet cape and threw herself at Cesar, landing in his lap. They were going on her dream trip to the Andalusia region of Spain, her ancestral home.

“Easy, love.” He laughed while he held her tight. “Don’t hurt yourself. I don’t want to have to take you back to the hospital.”

“But how did you…? Can we afford…? You already bought the tickets?” Her heart thundered so loudly, she was sure the neighbors would call to complain about the racket.

“I bought the tickets, and Margo has made all the hotel reservations for us and arranged for us to attend some of the competitions.”

Recently returned home from school, Izzy came running into the room. “Buela, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Oh, sweetie, no. Tito is taking me on a wonderful trip, that’s all.”

“Can I go too?” she asked.

“Not this time, little one,” Cesar said. “It’s a special trip for me and your grandmother.”

The child’s smooth forehead puckered. “Where are you going?”

Elena tugged Izzy up beside her. “We’re going to fly all the way across the ocean to Spain.”

“I’d like to fly,” Izzy persisted.

“I know, honey. You’ll get to fly sometime when you get older,” Elena assured her. She glanced at Cesar. There would be new clothes to buy. A new suitcase. Surely there’d be plenty of time for all the necessary preparations. “When do we leave?”

“On the twenty-sixth.”

“The twenty-sixth?” she gasped. “Of this month?”

He looked very proud of himself. “I didn’t think you’d want to leave on Christmas Day. So we have to fly out the day after Christmas if we’re going to be there for the beginning of the flamenco competition.”

Stunned, her mouth wide open, she pushed herself back to the recliner and collapsed. How in the world could she possibly be ready for a trip of that magnitude the day after Christmas?

Rafael strolled into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Tito and Buela are going on a trip.” Izzy produced a pouty lower lip.

“Yeah? Where are you going?” Rafael got a gallon of milk out of the refrigerator.

“Your father is taking me to Spain. To see flamenco dancers.”

“You’re going to have a dance lesson too,” Cesar promised.

“Hey, that’s great, Dad.” Rafael poured himself a glass of milk and put the rest of the gallon back in the refrigerator. “You’ll have a great time.”

“You don’t seem very excited,” Elena said.

He cocked a brow. “I’m not going, am I?”

“Not this time, Son,” Cesar said.

Shrugging, Rafael strolled out of the kitchen.

Elena snorted. “Well, I’m excited. I can hardly wait to get on that plane.” Even if it did mean the Christmas holiday would be abbreviated and extra frantic.

Eleven days after Elena’s surgery, James arrived at the staff lounge to find her cornered by Anabelle and Candace in the kitchen area. From the high-pitched sound of their voices and squeals of delight, something good had happened.

He frowned. He hadn’t expected to see Elena back to work for another couple of weeks. Rather that she’d be on postsurgical disability.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said. “Are you already back to work?” he asked Elena.

“Nope. I just came in to tell you my exciting news.”

“Elena and Cesar are going to Spain!” Candace blurted out.

“Cesar talked to a travel agent and made the reservations three days after Elena had her surgery,” Anabelle added.

Dressed in a sweater and slacks, not her usual work attire, Elena’s dark eyes danced with excitement. “We’re going to see the flamenco singing and dancing competition in Málaga. He has the tickets for some of the shows, and he’s arranged for me to take flamenco lessons.” She snapped her fingers in the air and twirled around.

“Wow! That’s great!” James knew Elena had always dreamed of going to the region of Spain where her great-grandfather had been born. “What made Cesar suddenly decide on the trip?”

“We were both so scared of what Dr. Drew might find during my surgery that when it turned out to be nothing to worry about, Cesar said we shouldn’t wait any longer.”

“Don’t put off ‘til tomorrow what you can do today,” James commented. “A sagacious decision on Cesar’s part.”

Elena narrowed her eyes. “I suppose that’s another one of your famous spelling-bee words that you won a contest with.”

“Nope, didn’t win. I knew how to spell it but I stuttered so badly, the judge said I got it wrong.”

“How unfair,” Candace said.

He shrugged off her sympathy—water long gone under the bridge. “So when do you leave?”

Elena’s expression clouded. “We fly out of Chicago on the twenty-sixth.”

“Of December?” Anabelle gasped.

“I know.” Rolling her eyes, Elena made it clear the date wasn’t one she might have picked to start a vacation. “It’s going to make Christmas especially hectic, what with planning for the holiday and getting ready for the trip all at the same time. And we can’t skimp on Christmas because of Izzy. But as soon as the celebration part is over, I’ll have to reorganize so we can leave. But the competitions begin on the twenty-eighth. It’s an overnight flight to Spain, so we actually arrive on the twenty-seventh.”

“Arrive exhausted, would be my guess.” James made a quick calculation and realized Christmas was exactly two weeks from yesterday. Not much time for Elena to prepare for a big trip and manage all the holiday activities too.

“Exactly, we’ll both be wiped out,” Elena agreed. “But it will be worth it. And I’ve just come from Dr. Drew’s office. He said I should be fine to travel by then.”

“I’m so happy for you.” Candace gave Elena a hug. “You and Cesar will have a great time. But I’ve got to get to work. Just when I want my ladies to slow down their labor, they speed up and start popping out little bundles of joy everywhere.”

Elena hugged her back. “I’ll head downstairs with you. I had to come by to tell you the news, now I’ve got to see Leila Hargrave about scheduling my vacation time off.”

“So you won’t be back to work until after the trip?” Anabelle asked.

“Nope. Which means I’ll miss all of you.”

“We already miss you,” Anabelle insisted.

For a moment, James watched Elena and Candace walk away. He hoped Leila, the nursing administrator, didn’t toss a monkey wrench in Elena’s plans.

Anabelle said, “I’ve never had much of an urge to travel abroad, but I’m happy for her. Going to Spain is something she’s always wanted to do.”

“You’re in good health and so is Cameron,” he said. “Why don’t you want to travel?”

She picked up her untouched cup of coffee from the counter and poured the contents into the sink. “I guess I’m just a homebody. Being here with my family and friends nearby is all I’ve ever wanted.”

James had gotten about all the travel he wanted while he was in the army. And now with Fern’s sometimes-unpredictable physical condition to contend with, getting too far away from her doctors made most travel impossible.

“If you’re happy with that, then staying right here in Deerford is exactly right for you,” he said.

“Well, I might take a trip to Chicago for a quilting show. Maybe even a national exhibition sometime.”

James laughed. “Go for it, Anabelle. Live on the wild side.”

With a chuckle, she waved her hand as though swatting the idea away. “No wild side for me.”

Together they headed downstairs to relieve the night-shift nurses in their respective units and begin their own workday.

Shortly after Anabelle arrived home that afternoon, the phone rang. She answered it in the bedroom.

“Hi, Mother, how was your day?”

“Pretty good, actually.” Anabelle smiled at the sound of her younger daughter’s voice. She sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped off her shoes. “No big disasters today. How about yours?”

“With the exception of one little boy who stuck his pencil eraser in his ear and couldn’t get it out, it was a pretty normal day.”

Anabelle chuckled. “Third-grade boys certainly know how to get into mischief.”