Christmas in a Snowstorm

by Lois Richer

  It was a great meal, full of fun and speculation about the upcoming weekend events planned for the festival. Though Josh seemed disinclined to talk about his afternoon with Ben, Joy’s weariness melted away when Sam related a touching story about a Christmas from his childhood.

  “Is the shop hop on Saturday an idea from your youth?” she asked.

  “Oh, no. When I was a kid, we never had shop hops in Sunshine. I stole that idea from the quilters in Missoula. They have shop hops once a year. Quilters visit businesses in the area and collect stamps or fabrics. It’s different from how ours will be, but the same basic idea.” He raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Are you ready for Saturday? We’re anticipating big numbers given all the calls we’ve received.”

  “Oh, I think we’ll have enough taffy for any and all participants who want to pull it,” she assured him with a chuckle.

  “I might give that a try myself.” He pushed back his chair. “I’d better get going.”

  “I’m sure Grace will have everything under control.” Joy’s teasing turned into a full-blown smile when Sam rolled his eyes.

  “Of course she will. Control is her middle name.” He shook his head. “Seriously, she’s amazing.” He turned to the kids. “So I’ll pick up all of you tomorrow afternoon,” he reiterated as he shrugged into his coat.

  Joy smiled at their enthusiastic nods.

  “I enjoyed your cooking very much, Joy,” he said, his eyes darkening to unreadable orbs. “Again. Thank you for asking me to share it with you.”

  “Anytime.” When had that tiny fan of worry lines around his lips appeared? she wondered. After the PTSD episode? “I hope you won’t have to work too late this evening. Ski time is followed by a snack at the hall, right?”

  “Yes. Every time the thermometer dips or the wind kicks up, I ask for a special blessing on those plumbers and electricians who finished work on the hall early. Without them...” Sam shook his head. “’Nuff said.” He waved. “Gotta go. Good night. Sleep well.”

  “You, too.” Joy watched him leave.

  She turned and saw Josh directing his siblings as they cleared the table. Her heart pinched with love. He was such a responsible son. He deserved a happy, carefree Christmas where he could relax and just be a kid again. A time when he didn’t have to feel responsible. A chance to let others take over. If only she could give that to him. If only...

  “I like Sam,” Cris said. He came to stand by her, his hand threading into hers. “I wish he could be my dad.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart.” Joy bent and hugged him close, stuffing down her own wishes. “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she said, trying to let him down gently. “But Sam is our very good friend, and tomorrow he’s taking you all on a trip. You can enjoy that. Right, son?”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  It wasn’t the wholehearted response Joy wanted from him, but she couldn’t do anything about that because her own expectations about Sam needed adjusting, too. He’d done a lot of things to help them. Probably more than she even knew, but nothing that even hinted he wanted more from her than friendship.

  For which I should be thankful, she reminded herself when the kids were tucked in bed and she was seated before the fire with her Bible lying in her lap. Atop it lay a list of local bread suppliers, none of whom wanted to drive all the way to Sunshine for deliveries. Why did I ask him to check out the bakeries? This whole stage in my life is about managing on my own, about not depending on anyone.

  Not depending on anyone? Who was she kidding?

  Joy was sitting in the house Sam had found them. She drove the van he and his brothers had helped her acquire. She now ran her business from the old bakery building thanks to Sam’s help, and she was far exceeding her sales because of Sam’s Experience Christmas plan.

  She was very dependent on Sam Calhoun. And she liked that. A lot.

  But what would happen when he wasn’t there for her anymore?

  And that day would come. Because it always did.

  Joy was a single mother, raising three kids on her own, running a business on her own. If something went wrong, she’d have to face the consequences on her own.

  With God, she reminded herself.

  She glanced at her Bible. In Him was where her trust belonged.

  Best not to forget that.

  * * *

  Sam enjoyed the kids’ happy chatter as he drove to the next county. It helped drown out his guilt at not telling Joy the truth.

  “We sure are going far,” Cris said from the rear seat. “How much longer?”

  “Twenty minutes or so. Why don’t you read Cris another book, Becca?” He could feel Josh’s stare. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Thinking about my project for Mom.”

  “Dad says the rolling pin you’re making for her is going to be amazing.” Sam grinned at the boy. “And a big surprise.”

  “Maybe.” Josh peered out the window. “Are we going to put all those posters up in one town?” It wasn’t the first time Sam had noticed the boy’s acuity.

  “Not sure. Have to see what’s already there.” Sam turned on the radio, more to cut off Josh’s questions than to hear a Christmas carol. But the noise didn’t erase a creeping feeling of guilt. He should have been honest with Joy about this trip.

  Finally they took the exit leading them into the town. They stopped several times. Sam insisted the kids stay in the car while he put up signs. Then he used his GPS to locate the two artisans he wanted to speak to. The kids sat quietly, watching as each demonstrated her craft. They left with the assurance that both craftspeople would be in Sunshine on Saturday, and if that was successful, they would return.

  Back in the downtown area, Sam noted the businesses along the main street. Finally he saw what he’d been secretly looking for.

  “Can you guys stay in the car for a couple minutes?” he asked. “I’m going inside to ask about the best place to eat.”

  The younger two both nodded, their interest held by a kid on a sled across the street in the park. But Josh frowned.

  “In there?” he asked, inclining his head toward the bakery.

  “Yep. I’ll be right back. Everyone stays in the car. Josh, you’re in charge.” Slightly uneasy at leaving them, Sam walked inside the bakery, positioning himself so he could see his car out the window.

  He sure hoped this would work out.

  “Can I help you?” A small, older woman with a mop of gray curls and emerald-green eyes smiled at him.

  “I hope you can. I’m wondering if the owners of this bakery would be interested in supplying our local bakery with bread. I’m afraid ours doesn’t have the capability to produce regular bread as well as their specialty items.” He held his breath before asking, “Would you be the owner?’

  “My husband and I are. I’m Greta Coyne. My husband’s in the back prepping for tomorrow’s bake. I’ll ask him.” She hurried away.

  Sam peered out the window. The kids were still in the car, apparently having fun because they all three were smiling, though Josh was staring at him through the glass.

  “Hello. I’m Max Coyne. And you are?” A big, burly man covered in a white apron stared him down.

  “Sam Calhoun. From Sunshine. Nice to meet you.” He shook the man’s hand, awed by the strength in it. “I was just telling your wife—”

  “She told me.” The man frowned. “I thought Sunshine’s bakery had closed.”

  “It was recently reopened,” Sam said. “It’s doing well, but there just isn’t enough equipment to enable baking all the bread they need. The current supplier’s isn’t of the quality which the owner wants. I saw your building as we were passing and wondered—”

  “Who’s the new owner?’ Max demanded.

  “Her name is Joy Grainger.” Sam kept going even though the man’s curious expression had turned into an a
ngry glower. “She’s a single mom with three kids,” he added quickly. “In fact, those are her kids in the car there.” He pointed. “We’re having a Christmas festival in Sunshine and we came to speak to some artisans—”

  “Did Joy send you?” Greta murmured, her eyes on the children.

  “No. She doesn’t know I’m here.” Sam saw longing well in the woman’s green eyes. They were a mirror image of Joy’s. “I’ve noticed how disappointed she’s been in the regular bread orders. Since she’s working so hard to make a go of things in her new business, I wanted to help. I thought perhaps you might—”

  “Can’t do it,” Max said briskly. “We have enough work supplying our own customers. Sorry.”

  “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” Sam paused then added, “And those kids in the car are your grandchildren. They need you in their lives, you know. They have no one.”

  “Sounds like they have you.” Max’s brusque response was given through gritted teeth.

  “I’m not family.” Sam waited, silently praying that this man’s heart would soften.

  “Joy turned her back on her family years ago. We haven’t spoken to her in ages,” Max snarled.

  “Then isn’t it time you did? Isn’t it time you got to know your grandchildren, gave them some history? Loved them?” Sam paused only a moment. “They’re wonderful children. But they need the backing of family to help them through life. Isn’t that what you had when your father started this place?”

  “How dare you?” Max’s glowering countenance darkened even further, but Sam couldn’t give up.

  “One day it might be too late and then how will you feel?” he murmured.

  “Look, Joy went against our beliefs.”

  “She made a mistake, Mr. Coyne. We all do. Haven’t you?” Shouldn’t have said that, he thought as the man visibly seethed.

  “She hasn’t contacted us, even though you say she’s so close.” Mrs. Coyne couldn’t tear her eyes away from his card.

  “She contacted you after her husband died and you sent her away—a pregnant mom with three kids to feed.” Sam knew he’d hit too hard because Joy’s mom was now sobbing.

  “Let it go,” Mr. Coyne ordered, seemingly unmoved. But Sam couldn’t leave things this way.

  “Just because you disagreed with Joy, because she followed her heart, doesn’t mean she stopped being your daughter,” he insisted. “Anyway, she’s asked you for nothing since.”

  “That’s true, honey,” Joy’s mom said.

  “Joy’s pushed ahead, building a life for herself and her children alone. And you’ve missed it all. Every one of the kids’ birthdays, their achievements, their baby steps, their growth into sweet, caring kids.” Sam stared straight into Max’s eyes. “Are you going to miss the rest of their lives, too, the rest of your daughter’s life, just because you’re mad at her? Because you won’t forgive her?”

  “What’s it to you? Are you her new boyfriend or something?” Max demanded.

  “No, I’m her friend. I’ve seen how hard she’s struggled to follow her dream, to be the mom her kids need.” He paused. “My parents, my family have tried to fill in the gaps, to be the support system Joy and her children need.”

  “So why bother us?” The man must have a heart of stone.

  “Bother you?” he repeated with one eyebrow arched in scornful disbelief.

  “Why are you here, Sam?” Joy’s mother whispered.

  “Because this distance is wrong and it’s gone on too long.” Sam directed his comments to the weeping woman. “You’re Joy’s family, you are the ones she lovingly talks about when she remembers her childhood and how she learned to bake. She deserves your love.”

  “Butt out, okay, buddy? It’s our life,” Max said harshly.

  “It’s hers, too.” Sam inhaled before adding, “Joy and her kids are living lives full of love, caring for and sharing with each other. Don’t you want to be part of that? Can’t you forgive whatever happened?”

  “No.” Max crossed his arms across his chest belligerently as his wife openly wept.

  Sam knew he’d lost.

  “Then I hope hanging on to your bitterness is worth missing out on the love your daughter and your grandkids could give you, Max.” Sam set his card on the counter. “If you decide to fill the bread order, give me a call. Or come visit Sunshine and your family. It’s up to you.”

  Then Sam walked out the door, mentally begging God to soften their hearts. He opened the car door and leaned in.

  “There’s a good restaurant down the street, guys. Let’s walk there and give our legs some exercise.” He held the door open as Cris and Becca tumbled out. Josh quickly joined them.

  As proud as any father would be, Sam walked with the kids past their grandparents’ bakery, fully aware of two sets of eyes intently following their progress. Once seated in the restaurant with their meals ordered, the two younger children asked to choose a song on the big jukebox at the front of the café. When they were gone, Josh frowned at Sam.

  “That was my grandparents’ bakery,” he said quietly. “I remember going there once with Mom, when I was really little.”

  “Oh?” Sam calmly sipped his soda.

  “They told us to go away. Mom said we weren’t ever going back.” Josh looked annoyed by Sam’s calmness. “You were in there a long time just to ask directions. What are you doing, Sam?”

  “Trying to make your mom’s Christmas dream come true.” He stared straight at Josh. “Are you going to rat me out?”

  The question remained unanswered until all four of them were back in the car and heading for home.

  “No,” Josh murmured under cover of the two kids telling jokes in the back. “I won’t tell her. Not until after Christmas anyway. But you better not hurt her or make her cry.”

  “I’ll try not to.” Sam smiled at him. “And in the meantime, would you mind praying? Hard? I think this situation is going to need some heavenly intervention.”

  “Doesn’t everything?” Josh rolled his eyes as if to say, Adults!

  Sam drove home trying to quell the stupid bubble of hope inside, knowing it was totally unrealistic. But maybe, just maybe, those two stubborn parents would change their minds and Joy could finally have the family Christmas she yearned for. At least he intended to do his utmost to facilitate a reunion for them all.

  God willing.

  If only Joy wouldn’t hate him for interfering.

  You came back with the express intent of not getting involved again, his subconscious reminded him.

  But Joy was special. For her, Sam had no choice but to get involved.

  Chapter Ten

  On Sunday, Joy promised her kids a picnic fast-food lunch after the church service. She’d been looking forward to hearing more about building trust in God. But her ability to concentrate was severely compromised after the first hymn when Sam slipped into the seat beside her.

  In fact, his proximity, the piney scent of his cologne and the brush of his thumb against her hand when she passed the offering plate all distracted her so badly that by the time the pastor said the benediction, Joy could barely recall his lesson.

  There had to be a way to stop Sam’s effect on her, but she was so delighted to see him, she couldn’t think exactly what that might be.

  “Will you join me for lunch?” he invited as they moved with the crowd to the foyer.

  “Mom already said we could have our lunch at the Burger Barn,” Josh informed him in what Joy considered a sharp tone.

  “You’re very welcome to join us, if you like burgers.” She sent an unspoken reprimand in her eldest son’s direction.

  “I love burgers. Thank you. Say, do you think the committee could borrow your kids after that?” Sam flashed his camera-loving smile at Becca and Cris. “Next week we’re going to offer kids a place to make gifts for their parents, or
whomever. We need to do a test run with the crafts first, hopefully with your three.”

  “Can we go, Mom? I only have one Christmas gift picked out.” Cris looked at Sam. They shared a smile.

  What was that about? Joy wondered.

  “Me, too. I gotta make some gifts,” Becca insisted.

  Surprisingly, Josh didn’t comment, which told Joy something was bothering her eldest son. She just couldn’t figure out what that was.

  “I guess we could try it. Let’s eat first.” She smiled at Sam, only then realizing that half the congregation was observing them.

  Some wore funny smiles. Others nodded at each other, as if they shared some secret knowledge. Joy gulped and pretended not to see the knowing looks from people she’d only begun to befriend, though she couldn’t stop blushing. She felt fairly certain the phone lines would be ringing with gossip as soon as the parishioners arrived home. She exhaled and straightened her shoulders. Let them look.

  “Joy? Something wrong?” Sam asked.

  “Not a thing. Are you riding with us to the burger joint?”

  Josh opened his mouth to protest, probably irritated at the thought of losing his cherished front seat to their guest, Joy surmised. But Sam declined before her son could speak.

  “Thanks but I’ve got some errands to run later, so I’ll need my vehicle. Meet you there.” He nodded then walked toward his family, swinging the youngest children in the air one by one to make them laugh. Sam would be a wonderful father.

  Joy quashed the errant thought and focused on her brooding son.

  Once Becca and Cris were seated inside the van, she closed the door for privacy before facing Josh.

  “What’s wrong with you, son? Why are you angry at Sam?”

  “He’s always hanging around us. He’s got a big family. He doesn’t need ours.” Josh glared at Sam’s retreating figure, yanked open the door and stepped inside the van.

  “Sam has been wonderful to us,” Joy chastised as she drove toward the burger place. “I expect you to give him the same courtesy we give to everyone.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Josh sighed heavily, as if that would be an issue.