Christmas in a Snowstorm

by Lois Richer

  Sam’s lips touched hers for a fraction of a second and then he was gone.

  Joy stood in her office, trying and failing to put the pieces together, to figure out how she could love Sam knowing he’d gone behind her back.

  Yes, his motives were probably good, but—

  Enough! She couldn’t do this now. She had work to do, the day to prepare for. She’d think about it later, when she was alone, when she could let the painful tears flow.

  When she could ask God why He’d let her be betrayed, again.

  * * *

  Sam wanted to hide, to nurse his aching heart away from prying eyes.

  But the festival was busier than ever now that they’d entered the last week before Christmas. Truthfully, keeping busy helped him forget, even if only for a few minutes, that pained, hurt look in Joy’s eyes when he’d finally confessed.

  So when Sam had to pick up a pie order for a contest on Monday, he smiled at her as if nothing was wrong. That evening, when she and the kids joined in the family sledding night, he made it a point to engage the kids and pretend nothing had changed.

  But it had.

  And Miss Partridge, for one, knew it.

  “I haven’t seen you and Joy together lately, Sam. Is something wrong?” she asked the next morning, after they’d filmed a new video inviting folks to the Christmas Eve potluck.

  Sam told her the truth. Not about the Middle East story, because he hadn’t received a new text yet. But he did tell her about his dishonesty.

  “I ruined everything by contacting her parents without telling her,” he confessed.

  “No, you didn’t,” Grace insisted, pouring him a strong cup of coffee. “You were going where your heart led. That was kind and generous and wonderful.”

  “You don’t seem surprised about my company, Possibilities,” he said, suddenly aware that she hadn’t voiced the slightest wonder at his revelation.

  “My dear, I’ve known about Possibilities for ages. I researched your incorporation papers years ago. I was a librarian, Sam.” She shrugged at his look of disbelief. “You’ve done good things with that company, just as you have for our town.”

  “I wish Joy thought that way,” he muttered.

  “I know Joy wants her relationship with her parents restored,” the lady insisted. “I’m just not sure how we could make that happen. Or even if we should. There are so many ways it could go wrong, but so many reasons why success would be worth it,” she added with a laugh. “Let’s ask for guidance.”

  Grace began praying, asking God to help them reconcile Joy’s family. When she was finished, she lifted her head and looked at him.

  “I have no new thoughts, dear,” she said. “Perhaps the Lord wants us to wait.”

  “Yeah, maybe, though I had an idea a while ago.” Sam shook his head at her inquiring look. “It involved meddling and I’m not going there again. I need Joy to trust me. That won’t happen if she thinks I’m going behind her back to her parents like I did before.”

  “Just tell me the idea and let me mull it over,” Grace ordered.

  “You don’t have time. I know about those two extra projects you’ve taken on.” Sam frowned. “It’s too much for...”

  “For someone my age?” She shot him a curious look. “I’m fifty-two, Sam. Not quite a fossil.”

  “Sorry.” Insensitive clod, his brain accused.

  “I’ve never been trendy. My parents were old fashioned, and I guess they raised me the same.” She shrugged. “But however old I grow to be, as long as God gives me strength, I intend to keep helping my friends however I can, and Joy is my dear friend. So what was your idea, Sam?” She leaned forward, her silver-gray hair glinting in the overhead light.

  “It was the afternoon we did that practice run for the kids to make their Christmas gifts. Remember? When Trent showed up?” He waited for her nod. “Well, Mom said something about kids’ gifts to their parents and how nobody could resist a kid’s handmade gift. How it melted your heart.”

  “And?” Grace frowned at him. “That’s why we organized it in the first place, Sam.”

  “I know. So what if Joy’s parents got handmade gifts from their own grandchildren? On Christmas Eve,” he added. Then he shook his head. “It’s still meddling, still going behind her back.”

  “Which you are definitely not going to do.” Grace gathered her notes and plopped her knitted purple cloche on her head. “I have to go. I’m to man the hot chocolate booth for an hour. Mona Blanchet wants to go skating with her grandson.”

  “What?” Sam did a double take and stared at her. “But she’s—”

  “In a wheelchair. I know.” Grace buttoned her coat and drew on her gloves, a funny smile teasing her lips. “He’s going to push her over the ice. She can hardly wait. She said you gave her the idea.” She leaned over and hugged him, her lilac fragrance enveloping him. “I could kiss you, Sam, for bringing such joy and love to Sunshine. You are a blessing. Gotta go. Bye.”

  With a wave, she was out the door.

  “If I bring such love, why can’t Joy love me?” With no answer to his question, Sam sighed wearily, got to his feet and studied his list. Check that all the props for the live nativity walk-through are in place.

  He headed for the acres behind the church where the walk would be held.

  “This is just a glitch,” he murmured, praying as he walked. “Joy will love me again. I’m trusting You.”

  But saying the words wasn’t the same as believing them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They’d called it Bethlehem Live.

  “Isn’t it wonderful, Mom?” Josh hadn’t said a word until they’d moved through the entire series of picturesque scenes, past the live actors who recited parts of the story of Jesus’s birth. “Ben and I helped make some of the props.”

  “They’re very good,” she said automatically, wondering if she’d see Sam tonight.

  “How did they get the angel who talked to Mary get up so high?” Cris wondered.

  “I liked all the sheep with those shepewds,” Becca murmured, awed by what they’d seen and heard. “They had lots and lots of angels singing. What did you like best, Mommy?”

  “I liked the baby Jesus lying in the manger with his mom and dad right there,” Joy told her, amazed that the little family scene had awakened so much longing in her.

  “The cows just stood there.” Josh shook his head. “I don’t know how they got them to stay still. It was great.”

  “I liked the stowies that they said at each place. Just like we wed in the Bible last night.” Becca clung to Joy’s hand, shuffling through the snow as they followed others into the church hall for warm cider and cookies. “Did you make all these cookies, Mommy?”

  “No, just some of them. The ones shaped like bells with red bows on them,” she said before her kids could ask which were hers.

  As they filed through the food line, Joy noticed Sam standing to one side, his eyes on her as he listened to something the mayor was saying. Sam didn’t seem to like whatever he was hearing, because he frowned and shook his head. When he shifted as if to move away, the mayor clasped his arm and kept talking.

  “We hafta move, Mom.” Josh nudged her back to awareness, indicating the gap in the line in front of them.

  “Sorry.” She waited at the serving bar while they chose their cookies. Then Grace appeared and offered to carry Becca’s and Cris’s drinks. “I haven’t seen you for a bit,” she said with a smile. “What have you been up to?”

  “Oh, this and that.” Grace waved an airy hand. “Hello, children. How are you? Got your Christmas gifts all ready?”

  “Uh-huh. We just have to pick them up.” Josh avoided Joy’s glance.

  “What gifts?’ she asked. The guilty looks on her children’s faces unnerved her until Grace fluttered a hand.

  “My dear,
you know that one never discusses secrets before Christmas,” she scolded with a chuckle. “Now, children, since tomorrow is Christmas Eve, I’m going to need your help. Is that all right, Joy?’

  “I suppose.” She opened her mouth to ask why, but Grace shook her head and set her forefinger against her lips. Sighing, Joy shrugged. “You’ll bring them to me at the bakery when your secret mission is over?”

  “Of course. Now I must get back to my station.” She paused when Joy cleared her throat. “Was there something else, dear?”

  “I wondered whose idea it was to have a food drive tonight instead of charging admission.” Joy grimaced. “Not that it’s any of my business, but won’t the people who want to enter the grand-prize draw be upset?”

  “I don’t know why,” Grace said. “They can still enter if they attend Bethlehem Live tonight. The only difference is they pay with a food donation. Sam suggested that since we’d met our goal for the hall and more besides, we might gather food to be given to those who need it so they, too, can experience Christmas.” She grinned. “The committee thought that was a fantastic idea.”

  “So do I.” Joy reached into her purse. “I didn’t have time to go to the store, so I made out these gift certificates. They can either be given directly to the families or used to purchase items from the bakery for a food hamper.”

  “Joy, that’s lovely. Thank you.” Grace tucked the envelopes into her pocket, leaned over to hug Joy and then hurried away, her face beaming.

  “Hi, guys.”

  Joy startled, unaware that Sam had come up behind them. She waited until the kids had greeted him and exclaimed over what they’d seen.

  “How long will Bethlehem Live operate?” she wondered, trying to repress a tiny thrill at his proximity.

  “Tonight and tomorrow night, Christmas Eve. Then it comes down,” he said. “How are you, Joy?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Busy, but that’s good.” She couldn’t look at him, so she gathered her things, preparing to leave. “Finish up, children. I have some things to do at home tonight.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get to them.” The sad look in his eyes, despite his smile, hurt to see. His whispered “I miss you, Joy” broke through all her defenses.

  She wanted to tell Sam she forgave him. She wanted that so badly. But that feeling of being in the dark, of having someone go behind her back—that was what she couldn’t get past.

  “I guess we’ll see you at the potluck tomorrow evening. It’s hard to believe Christmas is almost here, isn’t it?” she said, trying to infuse joy into her voice. “You’ve accomplished so much in such a short time. You should be very proud, Sam.”

  “Should I?” He simply watched her, his expression empty.

  Joy had never seen Sam like this, with no animation, no expression. With his sparkling brown eyes vacant and empty. Yet something inside her felt tied down, held back by anger and sad memories of the past. It wouldn’t let her break free.

  “Let’s go, kids. Someone else is waiting for our place here.” Joy rose and turned to say goodbye to Sam, but he was bent over, his ear next to Becca’s lips, listening.

  “They’re not open now,” he said after glancing at his watch. “But Miss Partridge says you’re helping her tomorrow. I think you can pick up your parcel then. Okay?”

  “Thank you, Sam.” Becca wrapped her chubby arms around his neck, squeezed her eyes closed and hugged him as if he was the most precious person in her world.

  Joy’s eyes filled at the look that swam over Sam’s face as he brushed a kiss against her daughter’s curly hair and patted her cheek.

  “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” He turned to face Cris, who thrust out his hand as if he was afraid Sam would hug him, too. “See you, Cris.”

  “Yeah.” Her son’s face wrinkled with a frown. “Do you think—” He stopped, looked at Joy then licked his lips. “Um...”

  “I think we’ve done all we can, Cris. It’s up to God now.” Before Joy could ask any questions, Sam nodded at Josh then walked away.

  “Sam’s so cool,” Josh said as they walked out to the van. “I want to be just like him.”

  Though surprised at his about-face, Joy agreed with her son.

  Sam truly was a man to admire. Except—Stop thinking about Sam!

  “Can we deliver our Christmas presents tomorrow before the church service?” Josh asked as they rode home.

  “How many gifts do you have?” Joy inquired curiously.

  “Lots. Sam helped us.”

  “He did? How?” Joy wondered how she’d managed to miss it.

  “Sam helped us earn money. We all got jobs so we could get things. Or we made things. Sam says Christmas is all about giving.” Cris sighed. “Sam’s great.”

  “Yeah, he is. We had so much fun doing stuff, even secret stuff that nobody knows about.” Josh laughed with delight.

  “Like what?” Joy asked, half-afraid to hear the answer.

  “It’s secwet, Mommy!” Becca’s voice held a reprimand.

  “Don’t worry. It was all good stuff.” Josh’s voice sobered. “Sam has a way of seeing things, like noticing stuff nobody else does. He helped us look so we could see it, too. This has been the best Christmas ever.”

  “An’ Christmas isn’t even here yet!” Cris exclaimed.

  Joy should have been smiling. She’d wanted her children to have a wonderful Christmas. That was why she’d worked so hard to make things good for them, and yet it was Sam who’d taught her children that joy came from giving, and that the joy was even greater when no one knew what you’d done.

  She was so confused. She thought she loved Sam. She certainly wanted to spend Christmas with him, wanted to feel the same joy and excitement that her children did. But...

  As she pulled into the yard, in front of the log house where Sam had brought them a little less than a month ago, Joy felt torn in ten directions. She’d made so many mistakes. She couldn’t afford another. And yet, it felt like not grabbing on to the love Sam offered was also a mistake.

  But how could she love him if she couldn’t trust him?

  “Please tell me what to do,” she prayed later that night, when no one but God could hear.

  If God answered, she didn’t hear Him.

  All she heard was her father saying, He insisted we had to let you sell our bread or your bakery would fail.

  * * *

  Christmas Eve Day, and Sam was killing time.

  Most everything was finished. The last of the events were happening as planned. There wasn’t much more for him to do. And still his burner phone remained silent.

  God knows your heart, son. Just keep trusting Him to work it all out. Ben’s advice returned full force as Sam entered the town offices and came face-to-face with his nemesis.

  “Merry Christmas, Evan.”

  “Think you’re pretty clever, don’t you? That you’ve pulled the wool over our eyes with all the shenanigans you’ve created in Sunshine? But the truth is coming out now, boy.” That sneer sent Sam’s temperature rising, but he refused to show it.

  “What truth is that?” he asked, noticing that several men were gathering around them.

  “The one about that lie you told when you were in the Middle East. I just read online that your chum Adelia intends to reveal the whole story about your lies, for all the world to hear.”

  “Really?” Sam clung to his composure. “Well, you’ll be sure to watch, won’t you?” He had to get out of here, but as he eased past Evan, the man spoke again.

  “Don’t know what you’re going to do with all the food that’s coming into the hall, Sam.” Something in his words made Sam falter.

  “Eat it?” Sam’s guard went up. The snide smiles shared between these men told him evil was afoot.

  “Won’t be that many there to eat it. We’re asking folks to boycott the potluck. We
want the truth from you and we’re going to have it. And you can forget about council hiring you.”

  “Hiring me? Are you sick, Evan?” Sam didn’t like being in the dark. “Why don’t you get over yourself and just enjoy Christmas? Or if you can’t do that, at least let other people enjoy it. Make merry and all that. You know?”

  “I’ll do that, buddy, when you come groveling to this town on your hands and knees, asking for forgiveness.” Evan and his band muscled their way out of the room.

  That was when Sam saw Grace, standing at the end of the hall, her rigid posture perfectly expressing her fury.

  “I would like to shake that man until sense flows into his empty head,” she snapped.

  “He was talking about council hiring me.” Something flickered across her face. “What’s going on, Grace?”

  “I can’t talk about it right now. Nothing for you to worry about, I assure you.” She was tugging on her coat as she spoke. “I need to get reinforcements.”

  “Because?” Sam stood directly in front of her.

  “Because those men are holding a meeting in about five minutes to persuade some town councilors not to offer you the job of economic development officer that we’d voted on doing at the last meeting.” She slapped her beret on her head. “They’re also going to request you be asked to leave Sunshine. But they don’t run the entire town. Not yet. Excuse me, dear.”

  She rushed away before he could ask her anything else.

  Economic development officer? Sam smiled. He’d like that, a full-time job figuring out ways to make Sunshine better.

  Then his smile faded. But Evan would ruin it. If only the text he’d been waiting for would arrive. If only he could finally clear his name.

  “What is taking so long, Lord? I’m trying to trust, but—no, I will trust.”

  Sam zipped up his jacket and went to find Joy’s kids. Grace had probably forgotten they’d need to pick up their gifts. He’d see to it. Maybe he’d even get a chance to talk to Joy.

  His burner phone vibrated against his chest.