The two of them methodically searched every hiding place, then Abby grabbed her coat and boots. “Turn on all of the lights so they can see the house if they’re outside. You stay here in case they come back, and I’m going out to help Jess.”
Abby raced out to the horse barn where she found Jess ransacking the tack room and laundry, checking every nook and cranny.
“I’ll check the hay stall. They have a fort in there.” She ran to the hay stall and pulled open the sliding door. “Girls? Are you in here? Bella! Sophie!”
Nothing stirred.
She reached between the bales that had been stacked wider apart to create a little fort, then pulled some of them away for a better look. She pivoted back toward the aisle, defeated. “I thought for sure they would be in there.”
Jess went on to the other barn and the machine shed, while Abby checked every stall. Every storage closet.
It was fully dark outside now. Her heart hammering in her chest, Abby started toward the indoor arena. Surely they wouldn’t have dared to go into that cavernous, dark place, when they were too short to reach the light switches. Would they?
She heard a door creak open behind her and the puppy came down the aisle, all tail wags and kisses as he bounced against her. Then Betty appeared, bundled up in a heavy coat with her cane in her hand. “I thought the pup might help if the girls are hiding.”
Abby said a silent prayer as she opened the arena door and switched on the banks of overhead lights. It was cold out here as the thermostat was always turned off overnight. Even with the lights, the corners were dark and foreboding.
Poofy raced past her, running in ever-widening circles in the arena. Then he stopped. Cocked his head. And flew over the stack of hay where the kittens usually hid. He scrambled up the bales and poked his head into a space, wagging his tail.
Whispering yet another prayer, Abby hoped he’d found the girls and not a pile of sleepy kittens. “Bella! Sophie! Come out here, right now. Everyone is worried about you.”
The puppy pawed at the hay and whined, and eventually the girls appeared, their hats askew and their faces streaked with tears. “We don’t wanna go away,” Sophie cried. “Don’t make us.”
Abby grabbed her cell phone from her jacket pocket and sent Jess a text, then rushed over and enveloped them in an embrace. “Dear Lord, thank You so much,” she whispered as she led them back to the warmth of the horse barn.
She knelt in front of them and brushed off the hay clinging to their jackets, then pulled them into another embrace when they started to sob. But what could she promise them, when no one here knew what the future would hold? “Sweeties, your Uncle Jess and Grandma Betty will always love you. You know that, don’t you?”
Betty came up beside them and Abby looked up at her. “I don’t know what this was all about, but it’s going to be the happiest Christmas ever now that we’ve found them.”
“I think I know,” Betty said with a heavy sigh. “And I’m afraid this was all my fault.”
* * *
Back at the house, Betty started a kettle of hot water for cocoa while Abby gave the girls a warm bath and put on their pajamas. When they came back, Betty settled them at the table where she had cookies and cocoa set out.
Jess still looked shaken. He lingered at the table for just a few minutes, then paced the kitchen before going back to his office.
Abby started to go after him, but Betty shook her head. She waited until the girls were done and wandered into the living room to play a game.
“I think he just needs a little time alone.” Betty looked over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. “This whole situation was my fault. I was upset this afternoon, so I went to talk to Jess about Lindsey and that awful time she left the girls alone for so long.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “I think the girls overheard me and it brought back their bad memories. I used to think they wanted nothing more than to go back home. But now I think they want to stay right here. They’re still terrified of Lindsey’s boyfriend, and of being abandoned...and who knows what else.”
“Jess sure took this hard. Not that I blame him. I was terrified, too.”
“He’s a good man, Abby. And such a good dad to those girls.”
Abby closed her eyes, recalling Betty’s revelation about how Jess’s father had cruelly, relentlessly blamed Jess and his brothers for the death of their sister. Yet Jess had somehow overcome those old childhood wounds and fear of responsibility and had taken in two vulnerable little girls in need. And Betty was right. He’d become a loving substitute dad.
She’d seen evidence of it every single day, but their disappearance tonight must have been a harsh reminder of the sister he’d lost and the deep sense of guilt he must’ve shouldered ever since.
“Doesn’t he understand that his sister’s death wasn’t his fault?”
“I’m sure that on an intellectual level he does.” Betty gave Abby a sad smile. “His mother tried to get through to all three boys when they were young. I tried, too. But the trauma was just too devastating to those sweet, caring little boys, and I think it changed them all forever. Some wounds are just too deep to heal.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Darkness had already fallen and a glittering sweep of stars filled the sky when Betty, Abby and Jess slipped into their usual pew for the Christmas Eve service. A few minutes later, Darla and Don slid in on Betty’s other side.
Countless candles flickered across the front of the church, on the deep sills of the stained-glass windows and on the six-foot-high brass candlesticks at the ends of each pew.
When the organist began playing “O Little Town of Bethlehem” Jess closed his eyes and let the peace and beauty of this night wash over him. He was thankful from the depths of his heart that his family was here, safe and sound.
Last night at this time, he’d been terrified, jagged images of Heather’s accident colliding with his fears that the twins might be freezing to death somewhere. That he’d failed them, too. Instead of reaching for faith, he’d succumbed to panic as the minutes ticked by.
But then, from somewhere in the depths of his memories, he’d remembered the verse his mother had quoted to him so many times. In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
His mom had never lost her faith, even after Heather’s death. But he had. Lost and angry and hurting, he’d turned away from it even though he’d gone through the motions of a churchgoer all these years.
But while searching desperately for the girls last night, he’d prayed hard for their safety, and the sense of calm and reassurance that had washed over him had given him hope when he’d only feared the worst.
After they’d been found safe and sound, he had sent up a heartfelt prayer of gratitude...grateful beyond measure that they’d been found.
Now, sitting next to Abby in the candlelit church, he felt the warmth of her arm next to his, and knew there was something else he needed to pray about before it was too late. Before Abby was gone.
Maybe he’d been too weak to face the horror of what he’d done, but Dad never admitted his responsibility for Heather’s death. He’d cruelly heaped that guilt onto his young sons and he’d gone to his grave without admitting the truth.
If Jess could finally forgive him, could he finally be free of the past? Finally feel whole and worthy?
Abby pressed closer to him and looked up at him with such warmth and understanding in her eyes that he wondered if she could read his mind. That warmth seemed to radiate from her hand to his, and straight to his heart.
Please, Lord, help me let go of the anger and hurt and guilt that I’ve held on to for so long. Help me to forgive Dad, just as You have forgiven your believers...and please help me take the right path with
Abby and the twins...
“Look,” Abby whispered, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “The children are coming in.”
Maura walked down the aisle with her little flock of twenty following along behind her. They all wore loose, flowing children’s choir tunics with a red bow. The littlest ones were scanning the pews for their parents and waving proudly as they marched to the front of the church.
Betty nudged his other side. “Isn’t that just the sweetest thing? Here come Bella and Sophie!”
Betty waved to catch their attention and they both beamed proudly as they passed.
The older children took turns reciting their memorized verses from the Christmas story, interspersed with songs sung by the younger ones, with Maura kneeling in front of them to coach them along.
And then Sophie and Bella stepped ahead of the group, holding hands.
Abby sat forward. “Oh, my word,” she whispered. “Look.”
He leaned forward, too, and slipped his hand into hers again as the twins began to sing “Away in a Manger” in their high, clear voices. With their pale blond hair and the white tunics, they looked like little angels.
By the time they finished, his eyes were burning and his heart felt too full for his chest, and it was all he could do to just stay in his pew and not rush up to envelop them in an embrace.
Family. He’d once feared the thought of such responsibility. He’d decided it was better to be alone. But if the twins had come to him to teach him a lesson about love and caring and facing that risk, they’d done it ten times over.
Maybe it was time to finally do what he should have done years ago, even if he failed.
* * *
Back at home, Betty, Darla and Abby headed straight for the kitchen. The standing rib roast had gone into the oven on Low before church, and the side dishes had been prepared ahead of time.
Betty shooed the twins away from the oven door, then popped a nine-by-twelve-inch pan of scalloped potatoes in next to the roast. “Doesn’t that smell good?”
Sophie and Bella nodded vigorously and edged toward the three-tier coconut cake on the counter. “That looks like a snowflake cake,” Bella said. “Can we have some?”
Abby smiled. “Of course, but that’s for dessert. We’ll eat in an hour, then open our presents. Afterward, we can have dessert. Does that work for you?”
Bella’s face fell.
“In the meantime, I know it’s early. But if you want to get out of those dresses, there just might be some brand new Christmas pajamas on your beds.”
Darla’s face lit up. “I saw just the thing online—matching pajamas for an entire family. Can you imagine Don and Jess in Santa pajamas?”
Jess strolled into the kitchen. “Actually, no. Now Don, on the other hand...”
Abby laughed at the thought. Her dad might have softened up a lot since meeting Darla, but she couldn’t imagine him ever giving in on that score. “Good luck with that, Darla.”
From across the kitchen Jess’s gaze locked on hers. A little shiver of awareness slid through her, despite all of her resolutions. All of her plans. The plane reservations she’d made so she could start her new life—even if it meant facing a wrenching sense of loss at leaving this family behind.
He tipped his head toward the living room. “Can I talk to you for a minute? It won’t take long.”
Mystified, she set aside the pot holder in her hand and followed him to his office, where he closed the door and then turned to face her.
“Are you giving me the boot? On Christmas Eve?”
“Not quite.” He pulled her into an embrace and tucked her head beneath his chin. So close that she could feel the beat of his heart.
“I probably shouldn’t say this,” he began. “But—”
Abby felt a flicker of hope come to life in her heart.
“Twelve years ago I failed to tell you something, and I’m not making that mistake again. I just want you to know the truth.”
She held her breath.
“I loved you all those years ago, and I was too blind to admit it. I don’t think I ever stopped.” He pulled her closer again. “But I will not hold you back. You don’t belong in the middle of nowhere on some ranch. You’ve got an amazing life ahead of you. A doctorate. A life of important research. You need to follow your dreams. Make us all proud of what you become.”
She melted against him. “But that’s just the thing. I can’t.”
“Of course you can.”
“No. If I leave here, I’ll be leaving everyone I love. You, the girls, my dad and everyone else.”
“But you got that acceptance letter. How can you walk away from that?”
“Actually, I—”
“Jess! Abby!” Betty’s voice came from far away. “We’re ready to eat. I need Jess to carve the roast.”
“Guess we’d better go,” Abby said with a little laugh. “You’ve got one impatient grandma with very bad timing.”
He followed her to the kitchen, but caught her hand as she passed under the arched doorway and glanced upward. “Not so fast.”
She followed his gaze. Drew in a sharp breath, well aware that everyone seemed to be watching.
Mistletoe.
Jess smiled down at her, then swept her into a kiss that sent sparks rocketing to her toes and made her heart feel ready to burst.
When he finally released her, she blinked as the family around them cheered and Betty shot her a knowing look. “About time,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
Bella and Sophie looked at each other in shock, then at Jess and Abby, their eyes filled with wonder.
“Santa did it,” Sophie whispered. “He really did!”
“Or it was all of my prayers,” Betty said with a smile. “But however this happened, these two finally got it right.”
* * *
Abby rested her head against Jess’s shoulder as they sat together looking at the Christmas-tree lights. Everyone else had gone to bed by midnight, and now they were alone at last.
“I’ll never forget this Christmas Eve,” she said softly, turning her head to look at him. “It was so exciting to see the girls opening their presents—I thought they’d never go to sleep tonight. And I’m so glad you all welcomed Dad and Darla. It made my day complete.”
“They’re like family now.” He smiled down at her. “I hope they’ll always be able to join us here.”
She felt his phone vibrating in his front pocket. He lifted it out to look at the screen and froze at the number displayed, then pressed the speaker button.
“Jess? This is Lindsey. Uh...my stepmom is visiting me ’cause it’s Christmas, and we need to ask you something.”
Abby could feel his heart hammering against his ribs and sensed the wave of sorrow coursing through him at the sound of that voice.
“If you wanted to speak to the girls, they went to bed quite a while ago. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.” Lindsey’s voice reflected no regret. “I know I said I would come get them...but I couldn’t.”
She sounded disjointed, somehow. Her flat affect set off warning bells in Abby’s head.
Lindsey’s stepmother took over the phone. “Hello, Jess? This is Tara. I know you’ve had to take care of the girls way too long. I’m sorry about that.”
Jess sat forward with a jerk. “No. No, it’s fine.”
“I travel a great deal for my career. I couldn’t have taken them. Especially not at my age.”
Like Lindsey, Tara had never once called to check on the twins since they’d come to Montana, and the brittle edge to her voice suggested that she would never have been eager to take in her step-grandchildren in any case.
“They’re doing well here,” Jess said. “We’re very, very glad to have them.”
“Good.” Tara cleared her throat. “Beca
use apparently Lindsey has spent the past year in and out of rehab. She and I were never very close, and of course with privacy laws no one could contact me until she finally allowed it in early November.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” Abby whispered to Jess.
His mouth flattened to a grim line. “How is she doing?”
“I tried bringing her home with me to San Diego, but that didn’t last long. Now she’s in a new facility near my house. It’s very well-known, and I’ve...I’ve been trying to be more involved in her life. She has no contact with her dad, and I haven’t been a very good stepmom all these years.”
Abby felt her insides start to twist into a knot. If this call was about sending the girls back to a mother struggling with addiction—surely not—Jess needed to find a way to keep them safe right here in Montana. Abby slid her hand into his and squeezed.
“There’s no way she can raise those girls,” Tara continued. “She’s still so young and way too fragile, and I think this is going to be a long road. Eventually, she wants to try college. But she says she’d be completely overwhelmed if she had to take the twins back.”
Jess’s eyes locked on Abby’s and she bit her lower lip, her sympathy for the troubled girl mingling with a sudden flare of hope.
“She’s sure?” he said slowly. “Absolutely sure?”
“Her counselor and a social worker have spent a lot of time talking with us. We all agree that dragging out this situation isn’t fair to young children who should have a stable and permanent home.” Tara hesitated. “I hate to ask, since you’ve already had the twins for so long. But the social worker says you should be our first choice for adoption. Lindsey says she would like that, if you’re willing.”
Abby felt like jumping with joy. Instead, she threaded her arm through Jess’s elbow and squeezed tight. He looked at her, his eyebrows raised, and she nodded emphatically.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Tara breathed a sigh of relief into the phone. “Thank you, Jess. I do think it’s best if they’re adopted by family. You’ll be hearing from the social worker.”
Long after the phone call ended, Abby gripped Jess’s hand, still too relieved and excited to speak.
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