Christmas in a Snowstorm

by Lois Richer

  “Let’s go see if we can help.” He rose and held out his hand, but not simply because he wanted them to help a needy child.

  Sam needed space from Joy. He needed time to figure out whether he was ready to get involved in a serious relationship again. He’d avoided that for so long, kept his heart chained so he could never be so overwhelmed by loss again. But for Joy, nothing more than giving his whole heart would do. And he couldn’t do that because he wasn’t free to. Not yet.

  The very last thing Sam wanted to do was hurt this special woman. So it was better to maintain his distance until he thought things through and got free of his entanglements. He just hoped his willpower was strong enough to last that long!

  After a second glimpse, Sam recognized the boy with Miss Partridge. Trent Scott. He also knew the family. They were desperately poor. Since learning Trent’s father had lost his job two weeks ago, Sam had recommended him for several odd jobs with different retailers in town. He’d also sent a couple of gift cards anonymously to help feed the family.

  Now he listened with Joy as Miss Partridge explained sotto voce that she’d hired Trent to clean her snow-covered sidewalks so he’d have money to buy his parents gifts. Instead Trent had selflessly given his earnings to his parents to pay for a needed repair on their car.

  “So he’s suddenly realized he has no way to buy them Christmas presents,” she said. “That’s why I brought him here.”

  “Great idea.” Sam tried hard to interest Trent in several crafts other kids were making, but when nothing seemed to speak to Trent, he called his mother over for help.

  “Oh, I know the perfect thing,” Bonnie said, patting his cheek, though Trent eased away, obviously feeling he was too old for such treatment. “Your mom loves flowers, right, Trent? Well, we haven’t actually set this station up yet. It will have these little pottery vases you can paint. If you glue a hook on the back, it will hang on the wall. Then you can tuck a bunch of dried flowers in them. Or fresh ones, if you prefer. Would you like to be the first person to try this craft? Do you think she’d like it?”

  “Yes.” Trent immediately set to work, putting some very fine details into his painting.

  When he was finished, Bonnie praised him for his excellent work and then suggested he make a memory book for his dad, drawing pictures with descriptions beneath of all the fun things they’d done together. Trent loved the idea and spent a long time creating his book.

  When he was finished, Joy helped him wrap and label both gifts while her own kids finished up their crafts. Ben said he needed some exercise and would walk home with Trent. Sam suspected his dad would offer some work for Trent’s dad. It made him smile that his kind father couldn’t stand to see a man wanting. Ben would figure out a way to step in without being obvious.

  “Wasn’t that just the biggest blessing the Lord could give us this afternoon?” Bonnie gushed as Ben and Trent left. “What parent can resist a child’s handmade gift? They just melt your heart.”

  A lightbulb went off in Sam’s brain.

  Maybe Joy’s parents wouldn’t be able to resist if their grandchildren sent them special handmade Christmas gifts. The tricky part would be to do it without telling Joy. Then, if nothing came of it, she wouldn’t be hurt.

  And if something did? Sam recalled her words about trust.

  So I think I have to trust You to work this out for Joy and her kids, he prayed as he left the hall to run his errands. You’re in charge. Of everything.

  He glanced at the burner phone vibrating on his console. A message flashed.

  Christmas.

  Nothing would happen until Christmas? But it had already been so long.

  A deep weariness threatened to overwhelm Sam. Would it ever really be over? Would his sacrifice in that dark, dank place be enough? Would his source finally be safe next week, or would Sam have to keep quiet even longer?

  Trust is my favorite word, Joy had said.

  “Can You help me make it my favorite word, too?” he prayed. “Can You help me trust, if only until Christmas?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Uh, Joy? Could you please come back here?”

  Surprised that Clara would call her to the back on a very busy Tuesday morning, Joy excused herself from the front and hurried to see what her head baker needed. She gaped at the stacks of bread standing on their loading dock. She didn’t need to look twice to recognize the logo from her parents’ bakery.

  “Where did this come from? What is going on?”

  “Don’t ask me. I just work here.” Clara spread her hands, palms upward. “I opened the door and there it was on the dock. Waiting.” She shrugged. “However it happened, I sure am glad we won’t have to carry that awful Montana’s Best Bread anymore. At least not according to this.” She pulled off an invoice that was taped to the top of one stack. “It says daily deliveries.”

  “Daily? Then I guess I’d better cancel all future orders with Montana’s.” Joy studied the invoice, unable to make the pieces fit.

  Why had her parents had their bread delivered here? How had they known where she was, never mind that she’d opened this bakery?

  Joy pulled out her phone and dialed her parents’ number, but her call was forwarded to their answering machine. Frustrated, she didn’t leave a message. She needed to talk to them in person, to find out why her father had sent this bread. Because she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had done this.

  “You’re needed up front, Joy.” Clara pushed one of the stacks of bread toward her. “Take these with you to sell.”

  “It’s a good thing there are less than two weeks until Christmas,” Joy muttered to herself as she rolled the bread to the front of the store. “Given the pace at which things keep happening around here, I need a break.”

  But in her heart she was praising God. Another prayer answered. And this time, she wouldn’t have to refund any money. Her parents’ bread was the best.

  With a nudge from her staff, Joy took an hour off after lunch to wander the streets and soak in the festive atmosphere. It seemed that every time she turned around, she saw Sam, meeting and greeting visitors, directing events and always, always smiling.

  “You’re like Sunshine’s goodwill ambassador,” she told him when he eventually spotted her and came over to talk. “These crowds are amazing for a Tuesday.”

  “Today’s crowds are due to the gingerbread contest. We keep repeating it and people keep entering, so this time we scheduled it for a Tuesday afternoon.” He chuckled. “No kids entered, but two busloads of seniors have already shown up with word of another bus on the way. Better bake another batch.”

  “Way ahead of you,” Joy told him, feeling smugly complacent. “Clara knocked off two big gingerbread bakes before we opened this morning. So there. Bring it, Sam!” She beckoned him with both hands, grinning. “We’re ready.”

  “You sound like the teens I’ve been working with,” he complained. “They constantly tell me to bring it.”

  “Not that you need any encouragement in that vein,” she teased, glancing around. “I think you’ve already brought it admirably. Now I’d better get back to work. I have three cakes to decorate for some birthday celebrations happening tonight, after the town square Christmas tree lighting.”

  “You’re coming, aren’t you? The carpentry class from the high school is putting up a huge nativity scene in the trees with special lights and music.” Sam ticked events off on his fingertips. “We’ll also have a fire, and we’ll roast wieners and marshmallows for s’mores and...”

  “Sam, stop.” Joy touched his arm, trying not to laugh. “I know. I live here. I have your posters in my shop.” She did laugh when he got a very self-conscious look on his face. “I’ll be there, providing Josh has his homework done.”

  “He will.” His smug expression bugged her.

  “How do you know that?” she demanded,
wondering if this was another of those coincidences that seemed to follow him.

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I think you should be prepared.” Sam leaned so close his minty breath grazed across her face. “Josh is going to ask if he can be your salesman tonight.”

  “He’s too young,” Joy objected. Then curiosity grew. “Selling what?”

  “Whatever you give him, I guess. Cookies, fudge. Popcorn?” Sam shrugged, but the way he’d added popcorn told her he had an idea.

  “Popcorn?” She frowned. “I run a bakery, Sam.”

  “Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.

  “Popcorn is not a baked item.”

  “It could be.” He met her frown head-on.

  “Just to be clear—you want me to make popcorn and put it into little bags for my son to wander around selling tonight.” She didn’t get it. “Why, exactly, would I do that?”

  “So Josh can earn money. The church intends to take the Sunday-school kids for a day trip to the mountains in January. Josh wants to go. He wants to earn money to pay for kite-skiing lessons.”

  “Oh.” How could she argue with her son taking on that kind of responsibility? “But popcorn?”

  “Well, you see, Mrs. Baker, folks around here aren’t real crazy about chestnuts, even if they’re roasted over an open fire.” Sam paused to smile and wave at someone, and then resumed his explanation. “But let’s say you took popcorn and pretzels and some mixed nuts. And let’s say you covered them all with a caramel syrup and baked it for a while until it all stuck together.”

  “Okay,” she said as he licked his lips.

  “Well, I think that could be a real good bakery treat, especially if it’s sold warm. I’d buy it.” This little speech was followed by a wink that made her knees weak.

  Joy shook her head. This was Sam at his best, chock-full of inventive ideas, even for a young boy who wanted to earn some pocket money. Lost his swagger indeed! Hardly.

  “I even thought of a name.”

  “Do tell.” She waited for it, certain it would be a good name given his excited expression.

  “Ticklebellies.” He laughed at her surprise. “It fits. Josh could do pretty well selling Ticklebellies, I think.”

  “Where do you get these ideas from, Sam?” Joy pretended to glare at him. “And why do your ideas always involve so much work for me?”

  “Just the way it is, Mrs. Baker.” He grinned unrepentantly. “Brains and brawn. No, wait. That doesn’t work.” His frown made Joy burst into laughter.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “By the way, Josh and Dad have already made a little wooden box and painted it with red and white stripes,” Sam said smoothly. “And Mom made a strap that can hang around Josh’s neck to hold his Ticklebellies. If you heated some stones or something in that oven of yours, they should keep his popcorn warm while he sells it.”

  “So your parents are in on this scheme, too?” Joy couldn’t help smiling. Sam was like no other man she’d ever met.

  “Didn’t hear it from me.” Sam assumed his innocent look, which was not very convincing. “Gotta get back to work. I haven’t checked the Christmas tree lights yet, and Miss P.’s supposed to talk to me about something, too.”

  “Say, about Grace.” Joy glanced around to make sure the lady wasn’t nearby to overhear. “Did you know that she’s looking for love?”

  “Looking—” Sam’s eyes widened to huge brown orbs. “No, I did not know that.” He blinked. “And I need to know this why, exactly?”

  “Well, because you’re out here with all these people, all the time,” Joy said, surprised he couldn’t see the reason for himself. “You meet and greet and learn things about who’s who all the time.”

  “Uh-huh.” When he still looked confused, Joy got to the point.

  “Given all your interactions, I thought maybe you could come up with a candidate for her. Someone special, not necessarily from around here, but mature and interesting and good-looking. She really wants a chance to be in love, Sam.”

  “Ah.” He frowned, head tipped slightly to one side. “Why is this so important to you, Joy?”

  “Because she’s done so much for me. She’s the reason I became a Christian and she’s patiently taught me about it, answering my many questions so kindly.” A little embarrassed by her fervor, Joy pressed on anyway. “Grace feels alone. She really wants someone in her life, someone to love.”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said dubiously. “Me matchmaking?”

  “Not that. Just keeping your eyes open,” Joy corrected him. “Love would give Grace someone with whom to share her world, a companion. You know how she always talks about traveling. Love could be fantastic for Grace Partridge.”

  “But love also brings pain and loss.” Sam’s expression turned blank now. “It’s not all chocolates and roses.”

  “Would you prefer to have done without the love you and Celia shared if it meant you could escape the pain of losing her?” Joy demanded.

  “Would you want to do without the love you had for Nick if it meant you’d escape all those mistakes you keep claiming you made?” he shot back.

  Joy thought for a moment and then shook her head. “No. Never.”

  “What?” Sam looked flabbergasted by her response. “Why?”

  “Because love can be wonderful,” she said softly. “Our love, even if it wasn’t very long-lasting, even though it wasn’t what I hoped or expected, gave me three wonderful children who fill my life with joy every single time they smile.”

  “Oh.” He frowned at her uncertainly.

  “Yes, I suffered. But for the rest of my life I’ll have my kids to love and cherish. That’s worth taking a risk on love and on getting hurt, Sam. Gotta go.” She fluttered her fingers. “See you tonight.”

  It was only when she was back at the bakery, popping a huge kettle of corn, that Joy realized she hadn’t told Sam about the bread delivery. And she wasn’t going to, she decided as she stirred the caramel syrup. Sam had enough to do with the town’s festivities. People dumped problems on him all day long.

  When the two of them had a few minutes together, he deserved to forget about all issues, hers included. Joy would keep this to herself while she praised God for answered prayer.

  But then a curious thought teased her. Sam couldn’t have had anything to do with the bread. Could he? That was silly. He didn’t even know her parents!

  Joy forgot the questions as she tossed her popcorn mixture. She filled small white bags that had Joy’s Treats written in neat black script with the mouth-watering mixture, rolled the tops closed and placed the bags in a warmer.

  But no matter how busy she kept, concerns about Sam kept bubbling up.

  I’m being as suspicious as Evan Smith, she chastised herself. Sam’s a good guy, but even he doesn’t have enough persuasiveness to break through Dad’s stubbornness.

  Joy faced facts. Every time she was near Sam, and often even from a distance, his magnetic personality drew her closer. She enjoyed being with him, doing things with him, talking to him.

  Despite her comment to Sam about Nick, however, she still carried mental scars from loving and being hurt.

  “Sam’s just a really good friend,” she assured herself.

  “Sure wish I had a good friend like that.” Grace Partridge stood behind her, smiling as if the two of them shared a secret. “I think you love Sam, Joy.”

  Loved him?

  She couldn’t. Could she?

  Joy had to sit down.

  * * *

  Sam’s shoulder nudged Joy’s to watch Josh peddle his Ticklebellies.

  “Your son is a very good salesman.”

  “So are you.” She indicated the hot dog in her hands. “I’m not terribly fond of these, you know, and yet here I am eating one. Because of your persu
asiveness.”

  “Come on!” Sam pretended astonishment. “Fresh buns from our local bakery. Meat that’s carefully charred to a crisp over a campfire. Oodles of relish and mustard. What’s not to like?” He leaned forward and dabbed something from the corner of her lips. “When you finish that, I’ll buy you a hot chocolate,” he promised with a grin.

  “Buy me? It’s free!” Joy was having fun. For this one night, she wasn’t going to worry about defining their relationship. It was enough just to be here with Sam, enjoy the evening and his company and experience the Christmas tree lighting together.

  “Oh, oh. Miss P. is beckoning. I guess that’s my cue to get onstage.” Sam stared at her. “Is my face clean?”

  “Mostly.” Joy laughed at his glare. “You look great.”

  “Thanks. So do you.” His brown eyes held hers like a magnet as he leaned closer.

  Close enough to kiss? Her heart kicked into high gear.

  Then someone bumped Joy’s arm and Sam stepped out of the way of the condiments spilling from her hot dog. The expression on his face grew rueful, as if he’d regretted getting too close.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “I’ll be here.” She watched him go, sorry that he couldn’t have even one night off, and yet thrilled that they would still have some time during this evening to spend together. Sam was an awesome man. He was definitely another of the blessings God had been sending her way lately.

  “Ladies, gentlemen and kids of all ages. Welcome to Experience Christmas. Again,” Sam said wryly. Everyone laughed. “Tonight we’re gathered to light Sunshine’s main Christmas tree. It’s a tradition that’s been carried on for generations in our town. Every year we turn off all the lights for a few minutes so we can truly appreciate our Christmas tree. That will happen right away.” Sam seemed confused as Miss Partridge handed him a note. “But, uh, first, our mayor has something to say.”