Merry Hearts: A Small Town Holiday Novella

by Amber Kelly

  Sonia drops her end just as I lift my corner up.

  “Sorry,” she says before bending back down to pick it up again. “It’s a slippery sucker.”

  We get it moved a couple of steps when the front door swings open.

  “Whoa, what are you women doing?” Walker asks as he and Silas come in, toting a Christmas tree.

  “Decorating,” I say as I blow a piece of hair from my face.

  “Put that thing down,” he commands.

  We slowly lower it and drop it to the floor.

  “What?” I ask as he and Silas set the tree in the stand by the front window, and he walks to me.

  “You’re going to hurt yourselves. It’s heavy. Si and I will get it,” he says before he grabs me and kisses me hard.

  “Gross,” Bellamy exclaims.

  He lets me go, turns his head, and points at her. “Don’t make me come lay one on you, woman,” he threatens.

  Bellamy throws her hands in the air and backs up.

  “Are you finished for the day?” I ask him.

  “Yep, this was the last stop. So, if you want to decorate the tree tonight, we can. I can throw some steaks on the grill for dinner,” he says.

  “We can string up the lights, but I planned to buy all the ornaments and things we need at the Christmas Market this weekend during the tree lighting. I only have a couple of sentimental ones that Aunt Madeline saved for me from Momma’s collection when they packed up the house, and I’m assuming you don’t have any.”

  “Nope. This is my first official Christmas tree.” He grins.

  “Our first official tree, you mean,” I correct him.

  He shakes his head. “Nope. It’s mine. If you want to claim the tree, you have to move in,” he teases.

  I fake a pout.

  “That’s not going to work, woman. Tuck that bottom lip back in.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing,” he cuts me off. “You move your ass in, or it’s all mine.”

  “I told you, I’m not moving in until—”

  “Until the wedding. I know. So, let’s go down to the courthouse and get a license, and we’ll get married this weekend. We can get married in the middle of the Christmas Market. Everyone will be there. It’s perfect.”

  I push against his chest, but he doesn’t let me escape.

  “I’m serious. I can have Reverend Burr there, and we’ll say I do in front of the whole damn town,” he says, all joking aside.

  “Uh-uh. I told you, I want a church wedding. It doesn’t have to be big. I’ve always wanted to get married in the same small church where my momma married my daddy. Wearing her dress with Braxton walking me down the aisle.”

  His eyes soften, and he leans his forehead against mine.

  “It’s always been my dream,” I whisper against his lips.

  “Woman, I’d marry you anywhere, anytime, and if you want to get married in that church, then we will get married in that church. It’d better be soon though; a man only has so much patience when he’s waiting for a beautiful woman to start sleeping beside him every night.”

  I shake my head as tears of disappointment start to leak from my eyes.

  “Ah, no, no, no crying. I was just kidding. I have the patience of a saint when it comes to you. I can wait as long as you want me to.” He backtracks.

  I shake my head. “It’s not that. Sonia and I rode out there last week. To the church, I mean. It looks to be in severe disrepair. I talked to one of the guys who lives across the street, and he said the church outgrew the space. They purchased property a couple miles down the road and built a bigger facility a few years ago. They donated the land, where the original one stood, to the community. The chapel was broken into by vandals, so they had to board it up. They’re planning to tear it down and build a playground for the surrounding neighborhood.”

  He sighs. “I’m sorry, Elle. We can always get married at their new building. It’s the same church, just a different address.” He gives an alternative.

  I look up at him, nod, and wipe at my cheeks.

  “It’s not the same, is it?” he asks as he kisses the top of my head.

  “It’s close enough. I did call to see what their schedule looks like for the spring at the new location and they are booked solid until November.”

  “The end of the year? I can’t wait that long. Why don’t you let me pay them a visit and see what I can do?” he offers.

  I pull back and give him a yeah, right look.

  “Hey, you have finals to worry about and are helping Doe and Ria with Christmas meal prep and Bells with that gala thing. Your plate is full. I can handle this one thing. Promise.” He crosses his heart.

  I ponder it for a moment.

  “Okay. It was Saint Mary’s Chapel, but I think they are called Saint Mary’s Baptist Church now. Just make sure to let them know we will have our own officiant and our own music and that we would like to just rent the venue. Any Saturday in February or early March would be ideal, but most churches book up way in advance, so they could be full until later in the year. If so, we’ll have to figure something else out, or you will just have to wait.”

  “They’ll have something in February,” he growls.

  I stick my finger in his chest and tap as I speak, “No bullying the church folks, Walker Reid. I’m trusting you.”

  He grins.

  “I mean it!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says before he smacks my behind. “Now that that’s settled, go get me a beer, woman, so we can get this couch moved.”

  I give him the stink eye. Then, I walk slowly past him.

  “I’m getting you a beer only because I want to and because Silas looks thirsty,” I say.

  I motion to the kitchen with my head, and the girls follow me.

  “I’m glad they showed up when they did. He’s right; that thing is heavy,” Sonia says before she and Bellamy plop into the seats at the island.

  I take out a bottle opener and pop the tops off two cold ones before returning to the living room and setting them on the mantel. Then, I show the boys exactly where I want the couch before I walk back to the kitchen and open bottles for us girls.

  “I can’t believe you are letting Walker handle any part of the wedding,” Bellamy says.

  “Eh, if he fails, it’s no big deal. Maybe I should just get married at Gram’s church and be happy. It’s not like my parents are here to care where it happens.”

  Bellamy lays her hand on top of mine. “You care, and it’s your day. I hate that you might have to compromise.”

  “Me too, but at least I’m marrying a man I love more than anything, and that’s one thing I do have in common with Momma.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Bellamy says as we lift our bottles in the air and clink.

  Walker

  “I’m heading out early today,” I yell to Jefferson and Braxton as I take off my muddy work boots in the barn.

  “Slacker,” Braxton calls.

  “I ran circles around you today, Daddy. That baby keeping you up all night or what?”

  “In your dreams, Walk.”

  Jefferson leads his horse to the brushing station. “Where you off to, son?” he asks as he starts removing his saddle.

  “Elle has her heart set on a certain church for the wedding. I’m going to go talk to the preacher man and see if I can get a weekend nailed down before next Christmas,” I tell him.

  “Next Christmas?”

  “Yes, sir. Apparently, she called, and they are pretty booked. I’m hoping my charm will persuade them to find us a spot.”

  He stops and faces me. “You think you’re going to sweet-talk a pastor into bumping someone else’s wedding day for you? That’s a stretch, son.”

  I sigh. “Hell, I know it is, but Elle has her heart set on that place, and I’ve got to at least try for her. You should have seen the look on her face when she told me. I’d grovel to anyone not to see her that brokenhearted again.”

  He nods.
“Well, good luck. I hope the Lord finds a way for you.”

  On my way to the truck, I say a little prayer, “Lord, it’s me. I know I’m your problem child, and you wish I’d get my shit … er, stuff together. I’m trying. I truly am. I hate to ask you for favors. You probably think that’s the only time you hear from me. But this one isn’t for me. It’s for Elle, and we both know I might not deserve your help, but she sure does. If there’s anything you can do to get us a wedding in this church ASAP, I will be eternally grateful.”

  It takes twenty minutes to drive out to Saint Mary’s. The entire time, I practice what I’m going to say. I want to sound sincere and not demanding, but even I can see this ending with me either begging or stomping off, cursing up a storm.

  I park in front of the office building to the side of the sanctuary and step out. It sure is a beautiful church, and the grounds are gorgeous. I bet in the spring, it will be stunning. I can picture Elle in her dress, walking up those steps and smiling from ear to ear with Sonia and Bellamy fussing over her.

  I walk over to the door that says Pastoral Offices and knock.

  A wisp of a man with silver hair and kind eyes opens it.

  “You must be Mr. Reid,” he greets.

  “Yes, sir. You can call me Walker.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Walker. Please come in,” he invites me as he steps aside.

  We walk down a narrow hallway to his office, and instead of taking the seat behind his desk, he leads us over to a sofa on the far wall, and we both sit.

  “What can I help you with, son?” he asks.

  “I’m looking to book your church for my wedding.”

  His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Is that all? You could have contacted the church secretary and made those arrangements.”

  I shake my head. “My bride-to-be tried that route. Seems you’re all full until next November.”

  “I see,” he says hesitantly.

  “Look, I know it’s a long shot, but my girl’s mother and father were married in your church over forty years ago. She has her heart set on getting married where they did. It’s important to her, and that makes it important to me.”

  “Forty years? That must have been in the chapel down the way.”

  “It was. That’s where she truly wanted to get married, but we know that one is closed. This location is the next best thing.”

  He sits back and considers me. “Are you willing to do a weekday ceremony?”

  “We prefer Saturday. I work on a cattle ranch, and so do eighty percent of the guest list. A Saturday evening would make it a lot easier.”

  “I’m sorry, Walker, but I can’t just take a day away from another couple and give it to you. I wish I could. If your bride’s wishes are that important to you, why don’t you postpone until the end of the year?”

  I hang my head.

  Lord, I could really use that backup now.

  “Don’t think I can wait that long, Pastor.”

  “It’s too bad that old chapel is in such disrepair,” he comments.

  I lift my head as a crazy idea hits me.

  “How bad are we talking? The state of the old chapel, that is,” I ask.

  “It was vandalized a few months back. They broke one of the stained glass windows. Spray-painted the wall behind the altar. We boarded everything up after that. We donated the wooden pews to a new church in Aurora, and the floor was damaged when they removed them. We plan to salvage the remaining stained glass and the altar before it’s bulldozed,” he explains.

  “When is that scheduled?”

  “As soon as we raise funds. The account is building, but we don’t want to start the project and have the kids waiting for the completion forever, so we’re not beginning until we have all we need.”

  I let the information roll around in my head for a moment and then form a plan.

  “What if you didn’t tear it down?”

  “Come again?”

  “Hear me out, Pastor. What if I go in, redo the floor, paint the walls, repair the window, and in return, you let us use the chapel for our wedding? Afterward, the community can use it as a recreation room for the children at the park or a space that it can rent for parties or gatherings. I’ll even build them some picnic tables for the inside,” I offer.

  “I never thought of that,” he admits.

  “The rent could help keep the park up. Maintenance and lawn care can get pricey. I’ll even get some of my friends to volunteer their time, and we’ll get some tractors out there to clear the land for the playground equipment.”

  He ponders my suggestions.

  “That’s not a horrible idea. The chapel has restrooms and a small kitchenette. That could keep us from having to build new bathroom facilities. When do you propose you could start working on this project?”

  “Right after Christmas. We’ll work nights and weekends.”

  “I suppose we could get the electricity and water put back on at the first of the year. There is also a leak in the roof near the steeple,” he says with a lift of an eyebrow.

  I chuckle. “We can take care of that as well,” I offer.

  He stands. “I have to make a few phone calls before I can agree to anything. All the church board members have to give approval.”

  “One more thing, Pastor. If you could hang a plaque in the chapel that reads Dedicated to the Memory of Tyrone and Lily Young, I’ll even donate all the materials we need for the project. No cost to the church. You can use all the money you’ve raised for the playground equipment.”

  “Tyrone and Lily?” He sits back down. “Son, are you marrying Lily’s little girl, Elowyn?” he asks.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I married her parents. I was a new pastor back then. Their wedding was the first I officiated. Tragic, what happened to them. I can’t believe that little Elowyn is getting married.”

  What are the odds?

  “We have our reverend, but if you could, it’d mean the world to Elle and Braxton if you were a part of the ceremony,” I say hopefully.

  “I’d be honored.” He stands again. “Now, let me go get everyone on board for this. Your bride will get her wish,” he says before walking to the desk and picking up the phone.

  When I make it home, the lights are on, and I know that Elle is there. I like this, coming home to her.

  I park the truck and climb the porch, and Woof is perched behind the tree with his nose to the window.

  I open the door, and he comes barreling to greet me. I bend to scratch him behind his ear.

  “You’d better be careful, buddy. You go knocking that tree over, and your mom is going to tan your hide.”

  I stand and go in search of my girl. I follow the sound of water and ascend the staircase to the loft. A sexy, silky little red number is hanging on the back of the bedroom door, and steam is streaming out of the master bath.

  I kick my boots off and shrug out of my shirt as I make my way to join her.

  Elle is in the shower, standing under the spray, washing her hair. The glass is foggy, but it affords me the pleasure of a small clear window, so I can appreciate her backside.

  I open the door and walk in behind her. She lets out a yelp of surprise as I run my hands down her slick, soapy sides. She relaxes and takes a step back into me.

  “Hey,” I say into her ear.

  “Hey. I was getting worried you were going to be late,” she says.

  “That’s why I’m here. Showering together will save us some time.”

  She laughs. “That’s not how it usually works,” she says as she looks over her shoulder at me.

  “I’ll be good,” I promise her, even as my growing erection presses into her.

  “Don’t be good,” she says as her hand snakes around and strokes me.

  I growl, “All right, woman, just remember you started it when we’re rushing to the party.” I turn her to face me and fist my hand in her wet hair.

  “You’re the one who invaded my shower,” she points out.


  “Right,” I say before I guide her mouth to mine.

  Her hands come to my shoulders, and she rises on her tiptoes to meet my kiss. Taut nipples graze my chest, and I tear my mouth from hers to lick a trail down to one rosy bud. I take it between my teeth and bite down.

  She jumps into my arms, and my tongue darts out to soothe the peak before I suck it into my mouth again. I give her other breast the same attention before she grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me up. She pushes against me to back me up out of the water, and then she turns us, so her back is against the smooth glass. I take that as an invitation to pick her up, but she halts me. Looking down between us, she takes my erection into her hand and starts to pump her fist around me. I plant my hands above her head and lean my forehead against the glass. Then, my girl slides down the glass to her knees. She wraps her lips around the head of my throbbing cock and slowly takes me into her mouth. Her eyes never leave mine. Damn, this woman can bring me to my knees. I moan as her teeth nibble my sensitive skin. Her hand is working me as she sucks me deeper and deeper.

  “Baby,” I manage to murmur as the rhythm of her hand and mouth drive me to the edge.

  I close my eyes and let the sensation rocket down my spine, drawing my balls tight.

  “Elle, I’m going to come, baby,” I warn, but she doesn’t ease up.

  Instead, she quickens her pace, and I try to hold out. Not ready to end this, but I can’t control it. I call her name on a roar as I spill into her mouth. She stays on her knees until I’m completely spent. I reach down, pick her up, and kiss her deeply.

  “You drive me crazy,” I tell her as I kiss her cheeks, her eyes, her nose.

  “Come on. We have to finish up, or we’re going to be late.” She tries to hurry around me, back to the spray, and I stop her.

  “Uh-uh, it’s your turn,” I say before I turn her around to face the back of the shower and press her against the glass.

  “Walker, we don’t have time,” she starts as I pull her hips forward and use my foot to spread her legs.

  As soon as my fingers slide around to find her slick and ready, her words die, and she throws her head back against me.

  I pinch her clit, and her body bucks.