Caro's Gift (Small-Town Christmas Wishes Book 2)

by Jean C. Gordon

  “But you were going to get there early.”

  Simon dropped his chin and lifted it up again. “I was ahead of schedule at the convenience store and got a call from the sheriff’s department. I took it. They’ve caught the men who were threatening Heather and vandalized the house. They had outstanding warrants and are being sent back to Arapahoe County.”

  “That’s good.” And it helped the family, but it didn’t help her with Hope’s gift.

  “Then.” Simon scuffed his boot against the welcome mat. “I got a Private Caller call. I thought it might be Heather needing my help for something. But it was an ex-teammate with the good news that Jake had been offered a fully paid week at a football camp in Denver this summer. I had talked with Heather about applying for it as a Christmas present. From her.”

  “And between the lines, from you, since you set it up.” Caro couldn’t contain the pettiness eating her insides. “You get to be a hero to Jake, while I have no secret angel gift for Hope.”

  Simon frowned. “I thought you were different.”

  “I am different.” He must be comparing her to his ex-wife again, and not in a good way this time.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know you or what you want from me. I failed with one thing you wanted …”

  “The most important thing,” she said.

  “One thing,” he repeated, “and boom …” He jerked his hands out in front of him palms up. “Everything that’s been growing between us is gone. It’s not like we haven’t helped the Campbells, made their Christmas more joyous.”

  “You could have put the nativity first, let the calls go to voicemail.”

  “And wished away the accident I ran into after the calls?”

  His cold, clipped voice cut her. But she was right. She’d trusted him, and he’d failed her.

  And being right is worth trashing everything? a voice inside her asked. Yes. No. She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was unbelievably sad and disappointed. Helplessness flooded her. And, if she, an adult felt like this, Hope would be devastated, her innocent faith broken.

  Simon’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I’m not a miracle maker. I’m just a man.”

  “I know. And I know better than to depend on anyone else. I should have gone myself.”

  Simon grimaced. “I’m going. I’ll call you later when we’ve both cooled down.”

  Caro had the restraint not to say, don’t bother. She could just block his phone number. She walked into the kitchen.

  “Simon gone already?” Gram asked.

  “Yes, he wasn’t able to get the nativity scene.” Caro surprised herself with how calm her voice was.

  “How disappointing for him and you.”

  For her, yes. She didn’t know about him. “Yeah. I’m going to check the Main Street shops for something else to get Hope. I won’t be long.”

  Once in her car, Caro pasted a smile on her face and cranked up the local radio station that was all holiday songs through Christmas day. Fake it until you make it.

  She parked on Main Street and walked up the line of shops, some of which had already closed early for Christmas Eve. But the Gifts N` More Shop was open. Her stomach sank when she reached the store’s display window. The Santa Teddy bear wasn’t there anymore.

  “Hi,” her high school friend and fellow secret angel Sara said when Caro stepped in.

  Caro took a deep breath. “Hi. You don’t by any chance still have the Santa Teddy that was in the window. Part of my secret angel gift fell through, and I need a last-minute substitution.”

  “You’re in luck. I do. I took it out of the window to get a jump on the new display I’ll be putting in after Christmas.”

  Hope’s Christmas would still be special. Caro hugged her friend. “You’re a life saver.”

  And possibly a relationship saver. The disappointment she’d felt when the bear hadn’t been in the window was making her a lot more charitable toward Simon and the disappointment he must have felt when he hadn’t gotten the nativity. And a lot more embarrassed about the way she’d treated him. Like he was her mother. He hadn’t failed her. He’d been there when she’d needed him to go to the estate sale—and countless other times. She loved him for that and so many other reasons. She’d have to right things with him as soon as she got home.

  “I’ll get the bear from the back,” Sara said. “Do you want me to wrap it?”

  “Yes, please.” Caro walked around the shop, checking out Sara’s home decorating displays.

  “Here you go,” Sara said, handing her a box beautifully wrapped in paper with Precious Moments characters caroling.

  “Thanks, and Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Sara said.

  The shop door closed behind Caro with a tinkle of a bell, and she headed back to her car, passing the This and That Shop. A twinge of disappointment about the snow globe pricked her and was gone, replaced by a larger loss. One she didn’t know how to fix.

  Caro looked up at the crystal blue sky and prayed.

  Dear Lord, help me right my wrong. I don’t need to fear needing a man as my mother does. I don’t need a snow globe like the one Daddy gave me to remember him. But I do need Simon.

  Chapter Ten

  Caro scoured the rapidly filling Snowflake Chapel parking lot while she parked Gram’s car. Simon hadn’t been home when they’d left for Christmas Eve service, so she and Gram had reluctantly gone without him. He hadn’t been home all afternoon. She’d checked. When she tried to text him, she’d gotten a message that he wasn’t accepting text messages. And the three calls she’d made to him had gotten a similar message that he wasn’t available. She helped her grandmother out of the car and to the Chapel.

  “Ms. Caro. Mrs. Becker, wait for us,” a familiar little voice said from behind them.

  Caro held the door open for her grandmother and waited for Hope and her family. Joy at seeing them at the service sang through her with enough strength to knock some of the disappointment of not having the nativity scene for Hope.

  Jake took the door from her.

  “Thanks. Merry Christmas,” Caro said as Hope scooted inside first.

  “Merry Christmas,” Heather said.

  In front of them, Hope whipped off her coat and twirled around. “Don’t I look beautiful?”

  “Yes, you do.” Caro admired the dress with its gathered red velvet skirt, lacy white bodice, and puffed sleeves.

  “My grandma who likes us sent it. She lives far away in Chi-cago. It used to be my Mommy’s. She said I could open the present and wear it to church.”

  “Come on, Hope,” her mother said with a wide smile and a hand on her shoulder to stop the twirling. “We need to find seats before they’re all taken.”

  “But wait, Mommy. I hafta tell Ms. Caro. God had his angel bring me my Jesus people.”

  Caro started. How? It had to be Simon’s doing. Her heart cracked. After how she’d treated him.

  “Yep. When Mommy stopped at the Post Office on her way home from work, it was there with my grandma’s presents for me and Jake and Mommy. Like our Christmas tree was there when we comed home after the police got the bad guys.”

  Heather pinned Caro’s gaze with hers. “Yes, just like our heating oil tank was magically full one day.”

  It was next to impossible, but Caro kept her expression neutral.

  Gram helped with a, “Yes, Christmas is a magical time,” and urged the Campbells to go in ahead of them.

  “Thanks,” Caro whispered, thinking if only it could be that magical for her. Her inner voice countered with In Him all things are possible.

  She and Gram found a spot behind the Campbells that had room for three. Caro put her purse on the extra seat in the pew, just in case, and looked around. White electric candles lit each window, and red poinsettias in Christmas-green pots added a blaze of color in front of the altar. The baby Jesus had been added to the creche on the steps to the altar since Sunday's service.

  “W
elcome, everyone, to Snowflake Chapel.”

  Caro’s hopes dimmed when Pastor Callahan started the service and Simon hadn’t shown. He hadn’t walked by their pew, and she’d twisted around looking for him behind her enough that Gram had admonished her to stop fidgeting.

  Her eyes were still closed from the opening prayer, when someone in the aisle touched her shoulder.

  “Is this seat available?” Simon asked.

  “Why, yes, it is,” she said, amazed that she was able to keep her voice to a whisper with all the emotions rocketing through her.

  The organist played the prelude to the first hymn.

  “May I share?” Simon asked, motioning to her hymnal.

  “Of course.”

  His voice blended with hers. We can share this and a lot more. All she needed to do was gain his forgiveness for her knee-jerk reaction and convince him he had her unqualified trust.

  She glanced sidewise at his strong profile, feeling protected by his close presence.

  The only problem was that she could see him forgiving her a lot more easily than she could see him accepting her trust. And what was a relationship without trust?

  * * *

  As the last hymn of the service ended, Simon experienced a peace beyond any he’d felt before. But if he wanted that peace to be permanent, he and Caro had some talking to do. At the close of service, he stepped out of the pew and let Caro and Ruth out. Caro stood close in front of him to let her grandmother go ahead. His fingers itched with the need to rub Caro’s shoulders in reassurance.

  The three of them wished the other churchgoers Merry Christmas as they made their way out into the vestibule. Once there, he halted to one side of the stream of people leaving. Caro looked over her shoulder and joined him while Ruth went ahead to join a couple of her friends on the other side.

  “So do you know where a guy might get a ride home? I walked up.”

  “I just might if you’re willing to stop in Gram’s for some hot chocolate and a slew of apologies afterwards.”

  “I should be able to handle that since I have one or two of my own to offer.”

  They walked over to where Ruth was standing with her friends.

  “Ready?” Caro asked. “We’re giving Simon a ride, too. He walked to church.”

  Ruth waved them off. “You two go ahead. One of the girls will give me a lift.”

  “Thanks,” Caro said.

  “Not a problem. It’s for my own good. You don’t think I saw you moping around tightlipped all afternoon?”

  Caro moping? About him? This may go smoother than he’d imagined.

  “Want me to drive?” he asked when they got outside.

  “If you want.” She handed him the keys.

  In the car, neither of them spoke for a minute and then in unison they started “I …”

  “Can I go first?” Caro asked, dropping her chin to her chest. ‘I think I caused the greater hurt—more intentionally.”

  Simon stopped for one of the few traffic lights in Snowflake. He reached over and lifted her chin, too aware of how soft her skin was against his. “I don’t know about that but go ahead.”

  “First, how did you get the nativity scene? Hope told me at church.”

  “Easy. When the woman who had put the deposit down got home and discussed it with her husband, she decided it was too expensive. The woman who was managing the estate sale called me right away.”

  “How?” Caro demanded.

  Simon stared at her, unsure of what she meant.

  “I tried to call or text you at least five times.” Her cheeks pinked. “I got messages that you weren’t available.”

  He relaxed. “There are a couple of cell phone dead zones on the way there and when I got back to the sale, a localized snowstorm moved in, interrupting coverage.”

  Caro’s mouth formed a perfect “O” that just invited him to kiss her. Except he was driving.

  “I hadn’t thought of that. Great idea, leaving the nativity at the Post Office.”

  “You liked that?” He warmed at her praise. “I had to pay minimum shipping to make it on the up and up, but the postal clerk was someone I went to high school with. He agreed to hand cancel-stamp it and hold it for Heather.”

  “One of the perks of living in a small town,” Caro said.

  Simon cleared his throat. “I know I said you could go first. But I have to say this now. I almost didn’t go back to the sale.”

  Caro’s eyes widened.

  “When you were so upset that I let other things interfere with getting the nativity scene, I thought you were like my ex-wife and too many of the women I dated when I was playing football. I accepted your outburst because I was still in the mode of thinking you were like the others. It certainly wasn’t the first time a woman had gone off on me. It tore me apart to think that you loved me only for what I could give you.”

  “No!” she shook her head.

  “I knew after I calmed down and thought a minute. I saw that I was being irrational. But what guy in love is rational? That minute of thought was more than enough for me to remember who you were and that you are totally different from any other woman I’ve known. You wouldn’t have said you loved me if you didn’t. I went back for the nativity because I knew what the gift meant to you and to Hope. I would have done it, even if I knew it wouldn’t help fix us.”

  A tear ran down each of her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Simon had never felt more helpless than he did right then. He understood that Caro had trouble depending on anyone else. But he wanted her to be able to depend on him and would always try to do his best not to disappoint her.

  “They’re happy tears.” She sniffed. “My turn now.”

  “Okay.” Simon tapped the steering wheel with his finger in anticipation of what Caro might say.

  “Love is scary. I’ve seen it that way most of my life. That’s why I lashed out at you. Your failing to get the nativity was my coward’s reasoning for giving up on us. It was easier to fall back on the fear that I’m like my mother and will be like her, needing a man just to have one, if I don’t diligently keep men at an arm’s-length.”

  “Caro.” His voice cracked. “That’s not you.”

  “I know. And I know I don’t need my snow globe to have a happy Christmas.”

  Simon cocked his head. “I don’t quite follow.”

  “I went to Gifts N` More after you left this morning to get the Santa Teddy bear for Hope. On the way home, I was thinking about the snow globe we saw at the This and That Shop the night of the tree lighting. It was sold when I went back the next day to buy it. I realized that I didn’t need the snow globe to remember Daddy at Christmas because I always have him in my heart.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Like I’ll always carry you in my heart.”

  Caro’s last words shot through him like a lightning bolt, firing every nerve in his body. He’d never been so happy to see his and Ruth’s houses. He needed to touch Caro. Simon had the ignition off and was around the car to Caro’s door before she could push it all the way open.

  She offered him her hand to help her out and they walked to the porch with his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist. They dropped their arms when they reached the top of the porch and awkwardly faced each other.

  “I guess I should go in,” Caro said.

  “Wait,” he said.

  Caro tilted her head to him.

  He lowered his to within inches of hers before ducking down to pick up the gift he’d left beside the planter next to the door on his way to church. “I almost forgot.”

  It tickled him that Caro’s face had a rosy blush that had nothing to do with the falling temperatures.

  He handed her the package, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I wanted you to have this even if—whatever.”

  “Thank you. I have something for you inside.” She stepped toward the door.

  He stopped her by taking her hand. “No, I
’ll get that at dinner tomorrow. You know Ruth invited me weeks ago.”

  “Yes, I know without anyone telling me.”

  “Okay open my gift.”

  Caro tore a side of the wrapping paper off and squealed, “It’s my snow globe. You went back to the store and bought it before I could.” She ripped off the rest of the paper, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss that more than made up for her thumping him in the back of the head when she’d flung her arms around him.

  When Caro pulled back and dropped her arms, Simon rubbed his head before lifting the globe from her hand and placing it safely away by the door.

  “Sorry about that. I love the globe. I love you.”

  Simon played it for all it was worth, rubbing his head again. “What we men won’t go through for love.” He dropped his hand and looked at Caro. How could he be so lucky? “I love you, too,” he said hoarsely.

  A wind rustled the pines in the yard. “You’d better get in,” he said.

  “Wait.”

  He’d wait forever for her.

  “I have another gift I want to give you now.”

  “Okay.” Simon reluctantly waited for her to go inside for it.

  She didn’t move, except for taking his hands. “This afternoon when I’d come to my senses, I submitted an application for the position at the Snowflake Medical Center.”

  He squeezed her hands.

  “And I sent a letter of resignation to UCHealth.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  “I’ve never been surer of anything.”

  “WhooHoo,” Simon shouted.

  “Shh, you’ll have the neighbors out to see what’s going on.”

  “All right.” He dropped a quick peck on her lips.

  “Not yet. I have one more thing. The Teddy bear. Should I give it to Hope. I’d hate to return it.”

  “I think we should keep it. God willing, we may need it ourselves someday.”

  Caro’s lips turned up in an impish grin. “God willing,” she repeated.

  Simon pulled her into his arms, halfway to support himself. His knees hadn’t been this weak since his tendon repair surgery. “On that, I think I’d better give you one more kiss goodnight.”