The front door clanged open. “Emma!” Gabe’s panicked voice bellowed. “Come quick. Someone’s hurt at the mill.”
Her knees went weak. Caleb was at the mill.
She sped down the stairs. “Is it Caleb? Is he hurt?” Gabe took her arm and led her outside. “I don’t know.”
“What?”
He helped her into the wagon. “I was on my way here and was told to come for you. Nothing more.”
Emma held on tight while the horses tore down the lane. All her doubts and questions no longer mattered. Caleb had become a large part of her heart, making it beat irregularly by a look, a smile. Without him, life would be a wasteland.
Please, God, let him be all right.
The moment Gabe stopped the wagon, Emma launched from the seat and ran into the mill. Emma waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, her chest heaving in fear. She scanned the large room. Men crowded one end of the building. None was the face she sought. Did she not see him because he was the man on the ground? Her nerves screamed.
Please, God!
Then he stood, looking strong and healthy. “Caleb.” She nearly fainted.
Caleb smiled. Emma stood in the doorway, the light behind her giving the appearance of a halo. But that didn’t cause the smile. The relief on her face when she saw him was the most beautiful thing on earth. Whether she knew it or not, she loved him.
Gabe held Emma up until Caleb could get there to do it himself. He wrapped his arms around her and knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing this very thing. But now, he wanted to hear her say the words.
Love shone from her eyes as she peered up at him. “You scared me.”
He laughed. Those words would do for now. He leaned down and received the kiss he’d craved since the first one he stole a lifetime ago. Her arms wound around his neck and held him there.
When he pulled back, cheers rang out from the men. Emma’s face glowed red but didn’t dim the smile on her face.
“Oh”—she pushed away—”wasn’t someone hurt?”
Caleb pulled her back. “Doc’s here. He was on his way to check on Dad. Perfect timing.”
“And the man?”
He loved Emma’s caring heart. “He’ll be fine once the cut on his arm heals. An inch further and he might have lost the whole arm.” He patted Gabe’s back. “Thanks for your help, but I’ll make sure Emma gets home.”
Home. He knew in his heart this was where he belonged. But he’d leave with Emma if she wouldn’t stay.
He turned Emma to face him. “We need to talk.”
She placed her fingers over his lips. “I love you, and I’ll marry you, and I’ll live here with you. But first, you need to clear things with your parents. None of us will be at peace until we all give and receive forgiveness.”
Stunned at her insight, Caleb thanked God for bringing Emma into his life. He kissed her fingers then held her hand over his heart. “How did you know?”
Her smile was the warmest he’d ever seen. “God spoke to my heart today, and for the first time, I really listened.”
With those words, Caleb knew God had blessed them.
Chapter 14
Emma threw back her covers and nearly leaped from the bed. Christmas morning. She’d never looked forward to this day like she did today. As she took extra care with her appearance, she thought back over the last two weeks. She and Caleb wasted no time speaking with his parents. The four of them gathered in Mr. Kelley’s room. He confessed they’d changed their last name from Little to Kelley, his wife’s maiden name, to keep from being arrested in case someone saw what had happened. They ran instead of staying to help for the same reason.
Emma smiled as she recalled what happened next. Speaking from the heart, tears falling, Mr. Kelley apologized for everything. Not only for what happened that day so many years ago, but also for how they treated her when she arrived. Emma hugged Mr. Kelley and promised she’d already forgiven him, bringing an onslaught of tears from everyone.
Without giving anyone a chance to recover, Caleb announced he and Emma were getting married. Emma scolded him later for his terrible timing, but she laughed about it now. When Mrs. Kelley asked if they’d chosen a date, Caleb shocked everyone, Emma included, by choosing the day after Christmas.
Tomorrow. She’d be Mrs. Caleb Kelley tomorrow. A grin spread across her face. He could be an impulsive man. Life as Caleb’s wife would be exciting, to say the least.
She descended the staircase, fingering the decorations wrapped around the banister, remembering how she and Mrs. Kelley had spent the last two weeks throwing together wedding plans. A whirlwind would have been more fun, but it gave the two of them plenty of time to truly forgive one another. Her future mother-in-law had a caring heart. Eventually the two of them would be close.
Caleb met her at the base of the stairs, took her hand in his, and placed a warm kiss on her lips. She’d never get enough of those. Instead of leading her into the dining room for breakfast as expected, Caleb took her into the sitting room. The ladies had outdone themselves decorating the room for Christmas. The tree she and Caleb had cut down sat in the corner, decked out in beautiful ornaments.
But the most stunning thing of all was the sight of Mr. Kelley sitting in the large chair next to the tree. Smiling, Emma crossed to him and squeezed his hand.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Kelley.”
“And to you, my dear. I can’t think of a better present than to have you here as part of our family today.”
Caleb joined them, his eyebrows high. “Does that mean I don’t need to give you my gift?”
Mrs. Kelley entered carrying a tray of coffee and cups.
“That’s not what he said at all.” Her sly smile made them all laugh. She motioned to the corner. “Besides, I’m dying to know what’s under all those sheets. When did you bring that in?”
For the first time, Emma noticed a silent Gabe standing beside his hidden creation. She was just as curious as Caleb’s mother. She knew what the gift was, but she wanted to see the engraving Gabe had carved into the headboard.
Wanting to give him a hug, she crossed the room. She’d come to love the man like a father and would miss him terribly when he left.
“Merry Christmas, Gabe.”
He squeezed her hard. “Merry Christmas, little one.” He held her longer, his cheek against hers. “You’re lovely, Emma, inside and out.”
Throat tight, keeping words from coming, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything, Gabe.”
Dishes clinked. “Join us for coffee, Mr. Noell.”
Gabe released Emma, allowing her to see his red-rimmed eyes. He cleared his throat. “Maybe another time. I’ve got a few things that need my attention, but thank you, Mrs. Kelley.” He bowed slightly and left.
They only managed a few sips before Caleb’s mother set her cup down. “Time for gifts.”
Mr. Kelley and Caleb roared with laughter. “We never open gifts this early, Mother.”
She pursed her lips. “No time like the present for new traditions.”
Caleb laughed, stood, and helped his mother to her feet. “Then help yourself.”
Emma took her cup to the window, intending to watch the unveiling from there. On the sill sat a box with hers and Caleb’s names scrolled across the top.
Caleb joined her. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know, but it has our names on it.”
He leaned down, placing his lips next to her ear, sending a shiver through her. “Open it,” he whispered.
Together they tore off the paper and flipped open the lid. Inside sat a wooden chain. Emma smiled, knowing full well who had given it to them. She lifted it from the box and held it out to Caleb.
He fingered it, awe evident on his face. “There’s no beginning or end. It’s a complete circle.”
Emma smiled. Gabe had given the perfect gift. Movement outside caught her attention. She looked out the window and saw Gabe’s wagon heading down the lane and o
ut the gate. Sadly, the time had come for him to move on. She missed him already. He’d played a huge part in her healing. She said a silent prayer that God would complete Gabe’s chain. Then she turned to her future husband, ready to tell him the significance of their gift of the Christmas chain.
Born and raised in southern Minnesota, Janelle Mowery spent hours reading a great many books in her childhood years. Janelle now resides in Texas with her husband of twenty-one years and their two sons. Her love of history, mystery, and stories led her toward her dream of writing novels. She began writing her first story in 2001, became a member of American Christian Fiction Writers in 2002, and signed her first contract in 2006. When she’s not writing, she loves reading, watching movies, researching history, and spending time in the great outdoors. To learn more about Janelle and her upcoming releases, visit her Web site at www.janellemowery.com.
LOVE CAME HOME AT CHRISTMAS
by Tamela Hancock Murray
Dedication
To my daughter, Ann.
You make my life a brighter place to be.
Chapter 1
Standing near the welcome warmth of burning logs in the parlor fireplace, Gabriella Noell watched R. C. Sparks erect the newly felled pine tree he had just brought from a forest located near the outskirts of Houston.
“It’s gorgeous, R.C.” Staring at the tree, she clasped her hands and kept her voice to a low volume in consideration of her father resting in his nearby sickroom. “This is the most beautiful tree we have ever had. Thank you.”
R.C. stepped back and admired the pine he had selected for Gabriella. “It is a fine specimen.”
She took in a breath, relishing the sweet, crisp scent. “It smells so good. You really have brought Christmas into the house.” Wanting him to know how much his gesture meant, she looked unflinchingly into his deep brown eyes. “Without you, we wouldn’t have had a tree this year. Thank you.”
“Aw, it was nothing.” His handsome features, always glowing with ruddy health, lit with modesty.
She couldn’t suppress a smile, since he reminded her of a schoolboy who’d just brought an apple to the teacher. “Come with me into the kitchen and let me give you some of the cookies I baked earlier this morning.”
“You don’t have to share with me.” Despite his protests, he followed her. “I don’t want to disfurnish you.”
“You won’t. I made plenty.” She threw him a reassuring smile as they entered the clean, spacious kitchen. Rolls warming for lunch on the wood-burning stove offered a yeasty aroma.
R.C. took in a breath. “Smells mighty good. You baking bread?”
“Just keeping the rolls warm. Care for one?” “No, I couldn’t.”
Gabriella fetched a tin from a drawer and packed a dozen cookies. “Perhaps Fern would enjoy a few as well.”
“Yes, she would. But that’s mighty generous of you. Too generous.”
“Not at all. While I’m at it, why don’t I send a couple of rolls home for your lunch? Although I’m sure Fern’s rolls are much better than mine.”
“No!” He cleared his throat. “I mean, that would be mighty kind of you.”
She included the bread and handed him the tin.
Unwilling to wait until after lunch, he opened the tin and popped a cookie in his mouth. “Mmm. Delicious.” He shut his eyes. “Much better than our cook’s. Fern will be lucky to get even one of these. I doubt they’ll last until I get home.”
Gabriella laughed. “I’m glad you like them. I can always bake more sometime.”
“I wouldn’t mind that one bit.” He closed the tin and glanced out the window, framed with white cotton curtains. “It’s getting late. I’d better go.”
She wished she could invite him to stay for lunch, but since she’d baked the cookies and even added rolls, an additional reward seemed too forward. “I understand. Again, thank you.”
As he departed, passing the pecan tree that marked their yard, she made a point of not observing him from the parlor’s oversize window. She didn’t have to watch. An image of his fine features and dark, wavy hair was etched forever in her mind. R.C. had just come into her life thanks to her father’s recent illness, when he’d started checking in on them every day. But R.C. would never look to her as a wife. According to Gabriella’s friends, he’d spent a decade avoiding marriage to eligible young women in town, and even a well-fixed older widow or two. Why would he look twice at her?
Still, she wished she could have detained him so he could help her decorate the tree. What would it be like to have a husband with whom to share household pleasures? Sighing, she chose an ornament from the Christmas box. Pondering the shape of the wooden star, meant to represent the guiding light the shepherds saw on the night of Christ’s birth, she thought about the grandfather who carved it for her fifteen years ago, when she was just a child. The wooden surface felt so smooth, so perfect. Just as her family had seemed perfect back then, before Grandfather left. Unwilling to let a stray tear deter her from decorating the well-shaped, fragrant pine, she placed the star in a prominent spot. She stood back and admired it.
“Thank the Lord for R.C.” She wondered why a man so handsome and wealthy displayed no interest in marriage. He seemed to be considerate, even anticipating her wants without her needing to state them. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask R.C. for a tree. He had thought of surprising her on his own. Smiling, she chose a dove-shaped ornament from the box. Grandfather had carved that one long ago for her parents, when they were newlyweds.
“Gabriella!” Father’s voice, in the past so strong, rasped.
An unpleasant shiver ran through her. “Yes?”
“Come here. Now.” He coughed.
“Yes, Father.” She hovered a moment, wishing she didn’t have to abandon her pleasant daydream to tend to her parent. A surge of guilt immediately followed the thought. Father, for all his brusqueness, had been good to her, and she owed him whatever comfort she could give him in his last days.
“Gabriella! Now!”
Stepping up her stride, she prayed his summons didn’t spell an emergency as she rushed through the sickroom door. The pine scent gave way to the revitalizing aroma of menthol. Gabriella made a mental note to hang a small wreath inside the sickroom window so Father could enjoy a little Christmas. “I’m here.”
“You are a poke.” He reached for a kerchief and coughed into it.
Gabriella patted him on the back. “There, there, Father. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to delay.” She guided him back onto his fluffy goose down pillow.
“You were never meant to be a nurse. If only Maggie were here. She’d take care of me.” He looked heavenward, his eyes misting.
“I miss Mama, too.”
“How can you miss her? You don’t even remember her.”
His frown matched his sharp tone of voice.
Gabriella swallowed. True, she barely had hazy memories of the mother who passed before she was four. But she did miss her. She missed having a mother to nurture and comfort her. If only she could feel the gentle touch of a mother’s hand, a hand that would care for her when sadness visited, a hand that would brush her hair and help her style it in ringlets atop her head. A mother who would help her fasten lace to her dresses. A woman she could admire, who would tell her how much she favored her and share memories of her own youth.
Gabriella touched her hand to his and said a silent prayer. Lord, I realize Father’s sickness has made him even more angry. Grant me patience, please. In the name of Thy Son.
When she spoke aloud, her voice came out as a whisper. “I’m sorry, Father.”
His expression softened with memory. “If only the Lord hadn’t taken Maggie away. Things would have been so different.”
“We’ve had our happy times. And we have never been in want. The Lord has seen to it that we had more than enough and could share generously with those in need.” As soon as she uttered the praises, she wished she could take them back. Her sentiments were sure to ups
et Father.
“The Lord indeed. I go to church because I have to, not because attending is my desire.” He sniffed.
“Oh, Father, please don’t say such a thing.”
“No one has ever given me a satisfactory answer as to why my heavenly Father gave me an earthly father who abandoned us, leaving us with nothing.” He crossed his arms.
“Yes, I know how you feel, Father. But you are a great success on your own. You should be proud.” To emphasize her sincerity, she placed a firm hand on his shoulder, a shoulder that had become bony in recent weeks. “Please, don’t think about that now.”
“I am going to think about it. You won’t tell me what to do.” He frowned. “Anyhow, that’s why I called you in here just now.”
“What do you mean?” She withdrew her hand.
“I called to talk to you about your grandpa.”
“Now?” She clasped her hands and wondered why the topic had taken on such urgency.
He nodded. “I can hear you shuffling around in the parlor, decorating that monstrosity R.C. brought in here. I can even smell it.”
“If the scent bothers you, I can—”
He waved her comment aside. “No, it’s not that. You decorating the tree out there makes me think of him all the more. All those ornaments he made, you know.”
“I know.” Not only had Grandfather fashioned ornaments, but years ago he had found time to make Gabriella a dollhouse, complete with furniture. She had long outgrown the years when she could play, but she’d never found the heart to remove it from her bedroom. Its presence reminded her of him every day. The house also reminded her father, but he responded with resentment when he saw it, whereas to Gabriella the gift represented love.
Father’s voice cut into the atmosphere. “Why are you bothering with a tree this year? I don’t know if I’ll even be able to walk into the parlor long enough to see it.”
“Maybe R.C. will help me bring you into the parlor, just long enough to see the tree. Would you like that?” She sat on the side of the bed next to her father, settling into the wool blanket woven from threads devoid of dye.
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