Christmas in a Snowstorm

by Lois Richer

  “I’m happy for me, too,” she whispered and smiled when Sam laughed.

  “I’d better go home,” he said. “It’s late. Good night.”

  “Good night, Sam. And thank you. For the soup and decorating with the kids, and the snow fort and your car and...everything.”

  The way Joy looked at him, her curls turning that reddish gold in the light as they swirled around her beautiful face, made his heart race. Get out of here, man. Now!

  “You’re very welcome, Joy.” Sam quietly closed the door behind him and walked through the softly falling snow to his parents’ house. He paused on the doorstep and gazed around.

  It felt right to be here on the Double H, to help out with the odd trail ride on the ranch, to pitch in wherever he was needed, even in town, if they’d let him. He’d gladly help Joy move into the bakery building, would even rope his brothers into helping her. Dreaming up ideas for a festival was something he could help with, too.

  But there had to be more if God wanted him to stay here. Sam needed permanent work he could do, something that would fulfill him as much as reporting had.

  But what?

  Long-term, Sam had no plans. He was waiting for God’s direction. Anyway, he could do nothing, make no future decisions, until that business in the Middle East was settled. It wasn’t his reputation he wanted restored, though that would be nice. He was waiting for a message: the knowledge that his lie had been worth it, that lives had been saved.

  His fingers closed around the burner phone in his pocket that he carried everywhere since it had been handed to him when he’d first deplaned in New York. But it was still silent.

  Okay, then, while he waited for vindication, he’d maintain the secrecy he’d clung to for this long. Meanwhile, he’d do whatever he could to help here. He’d approach town council tomorrow and float his idea for the festival. Sam knew some would naysay it just because it came from him. There was still a lot of animosity toward him because of that false report he’d filed.

  If only—No! He’d done it and he’d do it again if needed. There was no going back. There was only going forward. He intended to do that just as soon as he found out his sacrifice had been successful.

  Only he wasn’t sure what he’d be going forward to. Asking God didn’t help. He couldn’t seem to break through the spiritual silence that had fallen on him the day he’d illegally crossed that border in the Middle East.

  But Sam was here now, so he’d try to make a difference, because Sunshine was his hometown. Also because he’d made himself a vow many years ago to do whatever he could to keep the little town that he loved alive.

  * * *

  The following evening, Joy stood at the back of the boardroom in the town offices, a little surprised by how many people had shown up for this quickly called town meeting. She was glad everyone would get to hear Sam put forward his ideas. But when she’d asked Kira to babysit so she could attend, she’d had no idea that what she’d hear from these townspeople would be so negative.

  “You’re all gung ho for council to take on this big loan, Sam. But Sunshine is barely scraping by. We can’t afford more debt. Though I don’t suppose you, with all your hotshot globe-trotting—which someone else paid for, by the way—would understand that.” Evan Smith sneered.

  “I think you know that I’ve seen plenty of poverty worldwide, Evan,” Sam responded, his voice calm, even relaxed. “And I do understand that it’s a leap for Sunshine to risk so much money when there are other pressing needs. But what’s the alternative? Sit back and let the hall deteriorate so it’s never usable?”

  The glum faces in the room testified to how little anyone wanted that.

  “Sometimes you have to take a giant step of faith to get a reward. What I’m proposing is a way to have the community center available for the Christmas Eve potluck and also recoup the expense for fixing it while we use it.” Sam’s brown eyes probed the crowd. “A town-wide festival could bring in a lot of customers for our businesses, if we do it right.”

  “Who’s gonna show us how to do it right?” a spectator called out scornfully. “You? Like you did with that lying report you gave?”

  How could Sam keep his cool? How could he look so unaffected? Indignant that anyone would condemn the very person who was trying to help, Joy cleared her throat and rose.

  “Maybe we can’t do this,” she said quietly, and then challenged, “But maybe we can. Is it so impossible for us to just listen to Sam’s ideas?” She kept her voice firm, her comments focused. “The community center is very important to Sunshine and its residents. If there is some way to get it functioning again, shouldn’t we at least hear about it before putting down the idea and the person suggesting a solution?”

  “What’s it to you?” Mr. Smith asked. “You’re not part of our town.”

  “I have been for the past three months,” she informed him in a crisp tone. “Beginning Friday, I’m relocating my bakery business in town.” Joy felt immense satisfaction at putting him in his place, though she had yet to actually inspect the building or give her acceptance to Possibilities. Still, as Miss Partridge would say, When God opens a door, walk through it. “We’ll be open Saturday morning,” she added bravely.

  Many who’d already used her baking services called out their congratulations, as did the mayor. After thanking them, Joy continued.

  “As a small business in Sunshine, I’m very interested in hearing about anything that will help generate additional income and increase my bottom line. As a business owner, I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t be, too, Mr. Smith.”

  Murmurs of assent filled the room. The mayor invited Sam to proceed with his ideas, which he did with colorful photos. Joy figured he must have taken them in that place in Poland, during the festival he’d told her about. By the end of his presentation, the mood in the room was definitely positive, even festive.

  “I say we get that loan to fix the hall and give Sam’s idea a try. Call for the vote, Mayor,” Councilor Partridge called.

  It had come as a surprise to Joy that Miss Partridge had been recently elected to council, but then the former librarian seemed to have her fingers in most everything that happened in Sunshine.

  “The ayes win it, five votes to two,” Mayor Brown declared after council had voted. “The town of Sunshine will take out a loan to repair the community center and repay it with funds derived from our Advent Festival.”

  Excitement rose in the room until one angry voice cut through.

  “And when this dumb idea fails and taxpayers are left holding this loan?” Evan Smith demanded. “Is Sam Calhoun going to foot the bill and pay it off?”

  Silence reigned.

  Then to Joy’s utter disbelief, Sam answered.

  “Yes, Evan, if we don’t generate enough with the festival, I will cover the loan myself. You have my word.”

  Everyone gaped until Evan scoffed, “Because your word is so trustworthy, isn’t it, Sam?”

  The mayor called the meeting back to order, reprimanded Councilman Smith for his rudeness and thanked Sam for backing the loan. Then Marty from the hardware store asked to be heard.

  “I nominate Sam to spearhead our festival. He has all the ideas—good ones, too, I might add.” The man grinned at Sam as if he was a coconspirator. “Sam is doing this out of the goodness of his heart. He doesn’t have a vested interest like the rest of us do. All he wants is for the town to have a hall, and he’s got the smarts to help get ours fixed. So I say we put him in charge of getting that done.”

  Immediately a group began chanting “Sam” until the mayor called for order.

  “Well, what do you say, Sam? Will you take the lead on our Advent Festival?”

  Sam rose, pretend glared at Marty and then shrugged.

  “Guess I can hardly say no now, can I?” He extended his arm, palms up. “Okay, I’ll be your lead guy. But I’m go
ing to need a lot of hands-on help, your hands, to make it happen. This is going to be a community effort and we’ll start tomorrow evening. We have to get this thing planned and advertised if we’re going to pull off an event every day before Christmas. Do I have your help?”

  Joy silently applauded as someone immediately asked for a sign-up sheet. While it circulated, smiles abounded and laughter echoed in the room. It was the sound of hope, she thought. And Sam had made it happen.

  Twenty minutes later Miss Partridge requested the meeting be adjourned. Joy remained in the background, watching as folks clapped Sam on the shoulder and offered their help. Only a few crept away without speaking to anyone. Two men conferred in a corner with Evan Smith, whispering, their faces furious.

  All Joy could think was Sam better be careful. Those three are trouble.

  * * *

  “It’s not going to be easy, is it?” Joy said as she rode home with Sam.

  “Nope.” Sam shrugged, pretending unconcern. “It’s a huge undertaking and some don’t trust me. I have to earn their trust. That’s okay. I can do that as long as they don’t shut me down before we give this a chance.” At least he hoped he could.

  “I’ll help whenever and however I can,” Joy promised.

  How generous she was! As if she didn’t have enough of her own issues going on. Sam admired this woman more every time they were together.

  “Are you ready to check out the bakery tomorrow and move in on Friday?” he asked.

  “Yes. Tomorrow at five I’ll tour it, make sure everything is okay. Grace Partridge suggested I hire Clara Ens as my baker. She was head baker for the former owners, and Grace says she’s the only thing that kept them open as long as they were.”

  “Sounds like Clara will be a real asset,” he said. “I don’t know her well, but if Miss Partridge recommended her, that’s worth a lot.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Joy grinned. “So I hired her. On Friday we’ll bake our orders in the cabin while the kids are at school. Clara will deliver them while I haul stuff to the bakery. Then we’ll get everything set up and prepare for opening on Saturday morning.”

  Sam was a little bothered that he hadn’t had time to go through the bakery and make sure the place was up to snuff. He’d always insisted that safety checks be done on his properties before anyone moved in. Since his dad insisted Marty had already done that, Sam would just have to trust.

  But he couldn’t help asking, “You’re sure the place will be okay?”

  “God sent it, so it has to be.” Joy grinned. “I’m pressing on with my plans and I’m nervous enough. Don’t dampen my excitement.”

  “No way,” Sam reassured her. “I’m on your side.”

  “There’s supposed to be a truck coming with fresh supplies at six on Friday evening, and another in the morning with fresh bread.” Joy frowned. “According to Clara, the ovens aren’t big enough to bake any more than the artisan breads and all the specialty products I want to sell. She suggested I bring in regular sliced bread, just as the former owners did, though she says it’s not the best quality.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Sam frowned.

  “It isn’t the best, but it’s what I have to do. For now. Ideally, I’d prefer to find another smaller bakery to supply me, one that focuses on quality and not mass production, but I guess that’s part of my future plan.” She paused then asked hesitantly, “Can I borrow your car again on Friday to move, Sam?”

  “Sure, but you won’t need it.” He grinned at her double take.

  “Why won’t I?”

  “Because Drew, Zac and I will put everything you need in the ranch’s trailer and deliver it to your bakery.” He brushed off her thanks. “Once you’re moved in, you can take a look at a used van.”

  “I can’t afford to buy a van, Sam,” Joy gasped. “Not along with everything else.”

  “You’ll need it for business deliveries and for transportation. Anyway, I think you can’t afford not to buy the one I’m thinking of.” He chuckled at her blink of surprise. “At least you’re not naysaying me. I like that.”

  “Humph!” Joy crossed her arms and waited for an explanation.

  “You look nothing like my former fiancée, Joy. But you show the same pluck and grittiness Celia always had, no matter what hot spot I asked her to film.” He was surprised by the memory, yet so not willing to go back to that other dark era of his life.

  “Fiancée? Film?” Joy was obviously confused.

  “I keep forgetting you’re new to Sunshine. Celia was my fiancée and also my camerawoman on a number of assignments,” Sam explained. He hated having to say it, but he owed her honesty. “Celia lost her life because of me.”

  “I doubt that, but tell me the rest of it,” Joy ordered.

  She listened, her face revealing her chagrin as he explained the intense exposé he’d done on an infamous drug lord after months of verifying his story, and how Celia had been kidnapped in retaliation.

  “I pressed too hard. That’s why they took her. Retribution. But they didn’t realize she had a severe allergy.” Sam licked his lips and tried to swallow. He’d never been able to assuage his guilt. “Celia died while in captivity because they withheld her inhaler.”

  “That wasn’t your fault, Sam. It was the kidnappers’ fault.” Joy tilted her head to one side and studied him. “Anyway, I doubt Celia would have gone with you if she hadn’t wanted to. She loved you. She would have wanted to be with you, share your world.”

  “That’s kind of you to say.” Celia had loved him, and Sam had loved her. He should have protected her. The agony of those days still hung over him like a cloud. That was one reason he’d blocked love from his life. He couldn’t go through that grief again.

  “I’m sure it’s true,” Joy insisted. After a moment she murmured, “Now, what was it you were saying about this van?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.” Sam burst out laughing, though it took effort for him to let go of the pain-filled past. “It’s Mr. Porter’s. He’s moving into the nursing home. He can’t drive anymore because of vision problems.”

  “Oh.” Her lovely green eyes clouded over. “That’s sad.”

  “It is,” Sam agreed. “Mr. Porter is one of Sunshine’s most generous citizens. He turned over his house, lock, stock and barrel, free and clear, to a young family who just had theirs repossessed. He told Zac yesterday that he wants to find someone who will use and enjoy his van as much as he has. Someone who needs it. That’s you!”

  “I can’t afford it,” she reiterated. Sam named the price.

  He laughed when she argued, “That can’t be right!”

  “It’s not a mistake,” he promised. “Mr. Porter asked Zac to check around, see who could put it to good use. Zac thinks the van would be perfect for you and the kids because it’s only three years old. Anyway, Mr. Porter doesn’t have any family. He has to sell it to someone, so why not you?”

  Sam had never enjoyed anyone’s happiness as much as he did Joy’s. She seemed so thrilled with everything, small and large.

  He really liked this woman, but only as a friend. Celia’s loss still haunted him. He would never go through that again. Never.

  * * *

  Joy didn’t make snap decisions, not since long ago, when since she’d finally realized just how difficult it was to fix the problems that resulted from the impulsive choices she’d made then.

  But with her car out of commission permanently, she needed a vehicle. Badly. This van would be perfect for deliveries, and the incredible price was just about manageable on her small budget, if she used some of her carefully hoarded savings and a portion of the tiny operating loan she’d taken out.

  “I’ll take it,” she told Sam in a breathless rush.

  “Great.” He winked at her. “Can I confess something?”

  “That sounds om
inous.” She frowned at him. “What?”

  “I already told Zac you wanted it.” He wrinkled his nose as if he was waiting for her to blast him.

  “Thank you.” How could she berate him for snapping up a deal like that? “I can only afford it because I learned today that my car’s being written off. That insurance money will help a lot. Besides, I can’t keep driving yours.”

  “A businesswoman needs her own wheels,” he agreed. “Mr. Porter wants to have it serviced and checked over to make sure everything’s working perfectly. You’ll get it Thursday afternoon.”

  “It’s amazing,” she whispered.

  “The van?” Sam looked confused.

  “My life,” she clarified. “I can’t believe how everything is coming together. I’ve prayed so many times for the bakery and appropriate transportation and then suddenly—whoosh! It arrives all at once.” She couldn’t stifle a giggle of relief.

  “I guess that’s how God answers prayer sometimes, though I don’t think it’s ever happened to me like that.” Sam suddenly sounded sober and Joy remembered the town meeting.

  “I’m sorry that Evan Smith was so horrible,” Joy murmured. “Especially when you’re underwriting the loan and volunteering to run the festival and you don’t even live in Sunshine anymore.”

  “I think I’ll be here for a while,” Sam said very quietly. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. But really, it’s okay, Joy. Don’t worry about Evan. He’s always had a nasty streak. That’s nothing new. Anyway, I know a lot of people don’t trust me now,” he admitted.

  “Because of that story. Does it bother you, all the negativity?” she asked and then wondered if she should have voiced that.

  “Of course it bothers me,” he said, his tone irritated. “But in the same situation, I’d do it again, so I have no regrets.”

  Joy didn’t understand that at all, but she could hardly press him on it. He pulled up in front of the log house and shifted into Park before he spoke again.