by Jenna Mindel
“...We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.” The second carol ended and the crowd cheered.
The chamber president turned on the microphone, generating another squeal. “On the count of three, Monica will flip the switch.”
The crowd counted with him. “One...two...three!”
The Center Park pine tree burst into jam-packed colored-light glory.
Cat’s throat grew tight. Ever since Opal had been born, she grew emotional over the least little thing. She snapped a few more quick photos. Scooting over for a better angle, she accidentally brushed into someone.
That someone turned around. “Cat, is that you?”
The familiar voice made her stomach drop as if she were on an elevator going down too fast. “Mrs. Jensen!”
The woman whose life Cat had ruined stood before her. It had been years and yet the sorrow in Sue Jensen’s eyes hadn’t changed. Sorrow Cat had put there.
“Is this your husband? Oh, and you have a baby!”
Her breath hitched at Mrs. Jensen’s astonished tone. Cat knew she didn’t deserve a healthy baby, or even happiness. “This is Opal.”
Simon, still standing close, draped his arm around Cat’s shoulders as he reached out to Mrs. Jensen. “How do you do, I’m Simon.”
Mrs. Jensen didn’t take his hand, choosing to grip each of their arms instead. “Congratulations to you both and Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” Cat didn’t recognize her own voice due to the low rawness of it.
Staring at Sue Jensen’s retreating back, Cat stumbled into the past. Too clearly, she remembered the way the woman had wailed over the body of her dead daughter. Cat had collapsed on the dock after repeated attempts at CPR and mouth-to-mouth.
Cat closed her eyes, willing the image away, along with struggling to make her racing heart slow down.
“Who was that?”
“A woman I used to babysit for.”
“You okay?”
Cat had babysat plenty of times with no issues until that one terrible day. She’d just earned her babysitter’s certificate, having passed a CPR class with flying colors, yet none of it had helped in the end. She couldn’t save that little girl.
“Yeah,” she finally choked out. “Fine.”
Simon gave her an encouraging squeeze as if he didn’t quite believe her, but he didn’t question her further.
Opal cooed and patted Cat’s chest, almost as if she too knew how much it hurt seeing Sue Jensen.
Cat stared at the Center Park tree with its glowing multicolored lights. Snow fell and Cat tried to rally her spirits, but the pleasant moment had been tarnished. Reminded once again of how quickly lives could shatter with one careless action, Cat was determined to keep her past buried. Forever.
She’d finally faced the woman she’d feared seeing and Cat hadn’t fallen apart. Time would never heal this wound, and she wasn’t about to reopen it. There was no sense going back to it. Not ever.
Chapter Six
Simon followed Cat up the stairs to Zach and Ginger’s expansive apartment above their blown-glass shop. If Christmas were a place, he’d say Maple Springs seemed close to it. The snow, the tree lighting and the smell of hot apple cider that emanated from the kitchen all reminded him of those seasonal commercials he’d seen on TV. Only this was real and the Zelinsky family had invited him to be part of their holiday.
Cat cast off her coat onto a bench and pulled the baby out of the wrap carrier. Even Opal had been dressed in a seasonal red, white and green romper with a reindeer face, complete with a fuzzy red ball for a nose. She looked like a Christmas present, a holiday baby.
Simon reached for his daughter, enormously pleased with the smile on her face. “Come here, Princess.”
“She has a name, you know.” Despite the scolding words, Cat gave him an indulgent look and shook her head as she pulled off the baby’s hat and fleece mittens.
Simon cuddled the baby close, inhaling her soft, powdery scent. “Opal is a curious choice of name.”
“An obvious one, considering—wait, don’t you like it?” Cat slipped off the wrap carrier.
It warmed him to think that Cat had named their daughter after the very thing that had brought them together. “I like it very much. Does she have a middle name?”
“Elizabeth. Same as my mom’s.”
“Opal Elizabeth Roberts. Sounds regal, don’t you think? Princess suits her.”
“Yeah.” Cat’s gaze didn’t quite meet his.
It dawned on him that he’d assumed she’d given Opal his name. Perhaps she hadn’t. “It is Roberts, yes?”
Cat shook her head. “No. I gave her my last name.”
“But the birth certificate—”
“You weren’t there, and because we’re not married, you weren’t named.”
Simon instinctively held Opal tighter. He had no legal claim on this baby—not according to the paperwork, anyway. No proof that she was even his. Or that he belonged to her.
“Glad you could make it, Simon. I can hold Opal if you two want to grab some snacks.” Ginger held out her arms.
He didn’t want to let his daughter go and hesitated, anger boiling up inside him. Finally, he handed the baby over, relieved that Opal settled comfortably into the crook of Ginger’s arm without fussing. He glanced at Cat.
She looked miserable and fiddled with a button on the oversize black-and-red checked flannel shirt she wore over a white turtleneck and leggings. He watched her slip off the clunky black boots to reveal fuzzy socks sporting a Christmas-tree design.
So different from the sleek linen clothes she’d worn in Africa. She seemed different too, far less confident than before. What had he done over the four days they’d spent in the Ethiopian Highlands to make her think he wouldn’t want to know that he had a daughter?
Ginger kept talking. “Are you going to stay open next Saturday night for the shoppers’ walk?”
Simon nodded, his gaze never leaving Cat’s face. “I’ll be open.”
“Great. Don’t forget to decorate.” Ginger grinned and took off with the baby.
“Simon, I...” Cat stopped.
What explanation could she possibly give that might make him feel better? He stared at her feet in an attempt to extinguish the inferno raging inside him. “I like your socks.”
Her startled gaze finally flew to his. “They get me in the Christmas mood.”
The inferno temporarily banked, Simon whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have been there.”
She tipped her head. “I didn’t know where you were, or if you’d even care. I chose to handle this on my own.”
“You didn’t give me a choice.”
Cat’s face paled with guilt. The same expression she’d had when she’d bumped into that woman.
“Why did seeing that woman upset you?”
“Upset me? No, just surprised me.” Cat’s expression hardened. “Come on, let’s get some cider.”
He dropped the subject for now. “Lead the way.”
“When should we decorate your shop?”
“We?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I’d assumed. Never mind. If you don’t want to be involved, then I can take care of it.”
That made him feel like a first-class heel. “How about this week?” Simon hung back from the table laden with holiday goodies and surrounded by other members of Cat’s family. He wasn’t in the mood to mingle.
Cat looked reluctant, as well. She reached into her pocket and drew out the spare key to his house. “I forgot to give you this.”
“Keep it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“It just seems like a good idea.”
Whosoever shall lose his life, shall preserve it.
That verse kept slipping into his though
ts. His old life was gone. He had a new life now, one in which he tried to keep God at the center. He thought he’d heard from God with that verse when it came to going back to hunting for gems. It was what he loved and he missed the adventure, but what if he’d interpreted it all wrong?
* * *
Sunday morning, Cat stood next to Simon. She’d promised her parents she’d go to a service somewhere, so here she was, at Simon’s church. Her brothers’ church too.
It was a pleasant place, with cushioned pews and bright blocks of stained glass at the top of the windows. Ginger was one of the singers up front with the band of musicians leading the song service.
She glanced at Simon, standing beside her, holding a sleeping Opal. He sang softly, but she could easily detect his deep, smooth voice among the others surrounding them.
They’d had an awkward evening at her brother’s place that had ended with Simon leaving early. Not being listed as the father on Opal’s birth certificate had clearly upset him. So much still lay unsettled between them.
He’d offered financial support, but so far, other than temporarily hiring her, he hadn’t named an amount. Hadn’t given her an hourly wage or salary figure either. She’d wanted to be independent, thinking she could raise Opal on her own. She was beginning to understand her dad’s views. Cat needed help and Opal would need Simon, but how did she make him see that his support needed to be more than money?
He leaned toward her. “Would you like to pick up decorations for the shop after church?”
“Where?”
“I understand there’s a farmers market with fresh greenery not far from here.”
She had the wrap carrier with her, so having the baby tag along would work. “I know where it is. Yes, I’m in.”
Cat was looking forward to picking out wreaths and garlands. Christmas was an easy holiday to get lost in. For a few precious weeks, she could pretend all was well—as long as she ignored the fact that Christmas meant seeing the last of Simon for however long his assignment might be. One more thing they hadn’t ironed out.
Simon caught her watching him and tipped his head in question, unconsciously adjusting Opal in his arms when she let out a little whine. The awkwardness he’d first shown at holding their daughter was gone.
Their daughter.
Her throat tightened and tears threatened.
He looked concerned. “What?”
She swallowed hard. “You hold her like a pro now.”
“Thank you.” He sat down and shifted Opal to his shoulder, but his frown deepened.
Cat sat too. She focused on the minister as he went over a list of announcements. She couldn’t pay attention with Simon sitting close, distracting her with the gentle way he rubbed Opal’s back.
When the minister began his message, though, Cat’s ears perked up at the title. Fight against letting the past dictate one’s future.
“You will never really believe God is enough, until God is all you have,” the minister said.
Once again, Cat’s mind went to questions she’d asked countless times before. God was all she’d had that day Muriel had drowned. Cat had prayed, begged, even screamed for His help. Why’d He let her die? Of course, she was well aware it was her fault, not God’s. She’d been the one not paying attention. For all she knew, God had tried to get her attention and failed.
By the time church was over, Opal had fallen asleep on Simon’s shoulder. Cat folded the fleece blanket that had been stuffed into the car seat. “You can put her in the seat.”
“I don’t want to wake her.”
“You won’t.”
Simon hesitated only a moment before settling the baby into the car seat. He fastened the straps and then waited for Cat to slip on the fleece hat before he draped the blanket over Opal. “Ready?”
“Yup.” She wanted out of this church with its message that made her think too much.
They exited the sanctuary, Simon nodding to folks who greeted him. He even waved at her brother Zach but kept walking.
“You can talk with these people if you want.”
“Don’t want to. We have things to do.” He nodded for her to keep moving.
Simon wasn’t a chatty guy. He’d been quiet at her parents’ for Thanksgiving and even last night at Zach’s. Back in Ethiopia, his reputation had been rock solid. Everyone agreed he knew his stuff. He was well trusted but wasn’t very conversational. How did a man like that adjust to a child who needed ample stimulation and interaction? Opal might bring joy, but also complication. Simon seemed like he wanted to be a father, but he hadn’t said how, other than financial support. Was he up to the challenge of truly being part of Opal’s life? And how would Cat deal with it if he was?
Sitting together at church felt too much like they were together, a couple. They weren’t anywhere near that. Simon hadn’t made any moves toward her that way and that was fine by her. Sort of. Cat had never intended on getting married and having kids. Losing one or the other had always been too great a risk. Impossible dreams, considering her past.
They loaded the baby into Cat’s car because Simon had walked to church. The farmers market was only a few miles away, so the drive wouldn’t be long. It had snowed overnight, leaving behind a couple of inches on the ground. Every time the sun peeked through the clouds, it turned lawns into glimmering nets of white.
Cat couldn’t take the silence stretching between them and racked her brain for an easy subject to discuss. Simon had lived in Maple Springs for half a year, yet he hadn’t made any connections that she could see other than with her brother Zach. “How did you like living here?”
“Not enough to stay.”
“Why’s that?” Cat kept her eyes on the road. “What is it that you don’t like?”
Simon shrugged. “It’s not the town—it’s me.”
“Do you find it harder to get to know people here?” Cat dug deeper. “Other than Zach, have you made friends, you know, connections?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that your way of asking if I’m seeing someone?”
She hadn’t meant it quite that way, but— “Are you?”
He chuckled. “No.”
She tried again. “Actually, it’s for a freelance piece about Maple Springs. I might as well keep my journalism going as much as I can, considering that managing your store might be temporary. I’d love insight from someone new to the area.”
“Well, I’ve been welcomed into the community. Not only by your family, but others too. There’s a storybook quality here.”
“As in too good to be real?”
He laughed. “I was thinking more along the lines of insulated, but with the common goal of tourism. As a new business owner, everyone pushed for me to buy into that. I don’t know. I simply wanted to try my hand at selling my own jewelry, not save the town.”
Cat could imagine how it might have been. New businesses downtown were always a big deal. The shops were a big draw for tourists, so everyone wanted to weigh in on what each shop should offer. By the sounds of it, Simon hadn’t wanted to be involved in the downtown merchant scene with chamber meetings and local politics. The man was an island, self-reliant and ready to ship out on adventures, leaving no ties behind.
They pulled into an already filled parking lot of the market. In the designated area, Christmas trees were lined up by size and type and price, along with a chipboard wall full of various sizes of wreaths.
Cat parked and got out. She quickly slipped out of her coat and pulled on the baby carrier so her hands would be free as she looked around. She gathered up a still-sleeping Opal and nestled her inside the wrap.
Opal fussed a little but settled back down with a sigh.
Cat reached for her coat, but Simon was there, holding it out for her. She slipped into each arm. “Thank you.”
“Good idea, that thing.” He pointed at the wr
ap.
“Yeah.” Cat ignored the flip of her belly when Simon stepped closer to close the snaps on the front of her coat halfway up.
“Thank you for doing this.” His deep voice caressed her ears. His dark eyes looked soft.
“It’s what you hired me for, remember?”
His eyes clouded over. “About that, we need to discuss the terms of your employment, along with support for Opal.”
“True, but not here. Not now.” Cat wanted to enjoy this. Was it so bad to wish they were doing this simply to get into the season?
“Right you are. Perhaps after, we can grab some lunch.”
“Deal.”
They walked silently through the throngs of people checking out Christmas trees, and Cat found herself getting caught up in the holiday cheer. “I love decorating for Christmas. I don’t go all out like my mom, but there’s nothing quite like the smell of fresh pine.” She pointed toward the wreaths. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
He shrugged. “I guess. Red bows, pinecones. Nothing too elaborate. Traditional.”
“Then this will be easy. Are you putting up a tree in your shop?”
“No. Too cluttered.”
Cat laughed. “One tiny tree would be too cluttered? Man, you are sparse.”
“That I am.” He didn’t join in her amusement.
Maybe she’d hit a nerve with that one statement. It sure seemed like Simon kept his life as bare as his rented house, swept clean and free of entanglements. That had changed with Opal. Now that he knew he was a father who hadn’t been named on their baby’s birth certificate, would he try to be free of her?
* * *
Simon peeked through his storefront window at Opal in her car seat, trying to grab the animal rattles overhead that Cat had clipped on. Resisting the urge to go in there and help her latch on to the toy, Simon watched for a few more seconds.
She seemed happy enough, and even though he and Cat were outside, hanging garland, they could clearly see where the baby was situated inside, where it was nice and warm. They’d hear her too, if she started to cry.