“That’s what I hope.” Fern didn’t seem embarrassed to make such an admission.
“Now, we didn’t come all this way to talk about Fern and me.” R.C. turned his attention to Gabriella. “Tell him why you really came.”
Gabriella took in a breath. “It’s Father.”
“Yes. I was wondering when you would bring up my son. He doesn’t realize it, but I pray for him every day. And of course I pray for you as well. Why do I get the distinct feeling that you have bad news to share?” Grandfather paled. “Is your father ill?”
Gabriella swallowed. “Yes. I’m afraid he is.”
“I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do but to keep praying. He won’t see me, you know.”
“If you had said that only a few days ago, I wouldn’t have argued,” Gabriella said. “But he’s changed. He is sorry for the years the two of you lost, and he wants your forgiveness before the Lord takes him. I can’t help but think your faithful prayers have something to do with his change of heart.”
“Then he knows you’re here?”
“Yes, he does.”
“He asked her to come,” R.C. confirmed.
Sadness deepened on Grandfather’s expression. “His anger has eaten away at him all these years, hasn’t it?”
“I’m afraid he is a bitter man. And he has been for years.”
“He was bitter when I left, and I’m sorry his disposition never improved. That must have been difficult for you. If I could have changed that, I would have.” Grandfather looked away, as if hoping to see something elusive.
“I know. But I know Father loves me.”
“I think in his way, he does. And you certainly love him, to come all this way to ask me to forgive him.”
“Yes, I do. It is his dying wish to reconcile with you in person. So will you come home with me?” She took Grandfather’s thin but strong hands in hers.
“Home. That’s such a funny word. I haven’t considered the old place home in a number of years. But I will come with you, my dear.”
“Oh, Grandfather, I am so happy.” She hugged him.
Chapter 7
R.C. barely remembered the long ride back to Houston. For him, it was a fuzzy haze of joy. Gabriella had all but told him she admired him, right in front of her grandfather. He loved listening to Gabriella chatter with her grandfather, picking up right where they left off, it seemed. He could see that in the older man’s eyes, Gabriella would always be the adorable little girl he left all those years ago. He sensed that Gabe Noell regretted missing out on her early years but could also see that the man had followed his heart and the leading he felt from the Lord. So few men had the courage to do that. Obsessed with making a good living, they sacrificed everything else. R.C. assessed his own way of living. He’d always loved the deal, and real estate was his passion. But it seemed hollow when he witnessed the love between Gabriella and her long-lost relative. And his faith seemed heartless in comparison to the faith of the itinerant preacher he had just met.
Thy will, Lord, Thy will.
They pulled into town early on Christmas morning. R.C. couldn’t remember when he was so excited about the day, and his emotions had nothing to do with gifts. As quickly as possible, he dropped his sister off at their home, not wanting to delay her rest. Soon thereafter, as he escorted Gabe and Gabriella to the Noell home, he could feel Gabriella’s excitement and Gabe’s trepidation.
Gabriella bounded in the front door, with R.C. and Gabe following. “Father! I’m home!”
R.C. sent up a silent prayer that her father hadn’t become increasingly ill in their absence.
“Is that you, Gabriella?” His voice sounded strong as ever. R.C. breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God.
“Yes, Father. I brought you the best Christmas present in the world.” Gabriella took her grandfather’s gnarled hand in her young fingers. She looked back at R.C. and nodded to let him know he was welcome to follow. Keeping a slow step with him, she escorted Gabe Noell into the sickroom. When the two men saw one another, R.C. could read their range of emotions. Their eyes registered surprise, first that they were there at all, then shock at each other’s appearance, then fear at what might follow, then a softening of their stance toward each other.
“It’s all right, Father. Grandfather is happy to see you. Aren’t you, Grandfather?”
The old man nodded. “Henry.” His voice registered just above a whisper.
Gabriella let go of her grandfather’s hand, then hesitated.
Henry’s cough made R.C.’s own throat ache in sympathy.
“Now take it easy, boy.” Gabe moved closer to Henry, showing he was unperturbed by the prospect of becoming sick himself.
Henry’s smile formed a half C. “I haven’t had anybody say that to me in years. You haven’t changed a bit.” “But I have.”
R.C. looked at Gabriella. Both of them knew it was time to leave, to let the men right past wrongs and to reconcile. The men didn’t seem to notice their departure from the room.
As she shut the door, Gabriella’s eyes misted. R.C. couldn’t help but put a comforting arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him in a way that he wished she would forever. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, R.C. Thank you.”
“So you think they’ll come to an understanding?”
“Yes, though much too late in life. They wasted far too many years.”
R.C. thought about the path that each man took. “They are alike, yet different. Though it was painful for them to be on poor terms with one another, I don’t think your grandfather would have touched as many lives if he had stayed here. God used him. It was obvious from all the talk we heard on our trip. You have a lot to be proud of, Gabriella, and thankful for.” Never had Gabriella seemed so appealing. He wanted to kiss her full lips, to feel their softness against his. If he could, he would need no other Christmas gift. But he couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability, when there was so much other emotion. He had to wait.
Judging from her wistful expression, Gabriella seemed to be going through a similar battle with herself and was trying mightily to win. “I’m sorry I delayed the trip so we couldn’t be home in time to celebrate today with a party. Perhaps you would agree to come to an Epiphany party instead.”
“Indeed. I wouldn’t miss it.” He couldn’t remember when he anticipated a celebration more.
Gabriella wrapped green tissue paper around the scarf she planned to give R.C. at the party. Tying a red bow on top, she hoped he liked it. She was sure the robust red color would look well against his handsome face, bringing out the ruddiness in his complexion and making him glow even more with the health he obviously possessed. She didn’t know if he’d remember her with a gift or not. She didn’t care. She just wanted to thank him for being kind to her, a tagalong on a business trip. She had also remembered Fern.
“Whatcha got there?” Entering from the back bedroom, smelling of bay rum, Gabe was hardly recognizable as the itinerant wood-carver she had found living near Tyler.
“The scarf I knitted for R.C. I showed you yesterday, didn’t I?”
“That you did. Any man with sense would like that.” Gabriella chuckled.
“You always seem to be living proof of one of my favorite proverbs in scripture.” He smiled. “‘A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance.’ “
“Yes, I am merry today. Especially now that you and Father have reconciled.” She decided not to add that the prospect of seeing R.C. again kept her mood light.
She had tied the ribbon onto Fern’s present when Miss Pamela, this time as an invited guest, let herself in and yoo-hooed.
Gabriella turned and saw the older woman dressed in the blue velvet Christmas dress she had worn for the past couple of Christmas celebrations. “So nice to see you.”
She heard Grandfather take in a breath. Miss Pamela’s expression melted from happy party anticipation to the softness of a babe when she saw him.
Gabriella looked from one to t
he other. If she didn’t know better, she’d think love brewed as sure as the pot of tea she had simmering on the stove.
Watching his reaction to Miss Pamela over the past few days, Gabriella saw a side of her grandfather she hadn’t known. When she was near him, his enthusiasm matched any young suitor’s. This was neither the wealthy gentleman of long-ago memory nor the wood-carver with whom she had just become acquainted.
“You look charming today, Pamela.”
“Aren’t you the bold one?” Though she teased, Miss Pamela’s pleasure was evident.
Then, as if realizing he had an audience, Grandfather turned to Gabriella. “You’re too young to remember this, but after your grandmother passed, Miss Evitts and I would see each other from time to time.”
“But I wasn’t enough to keep him here.” The older woman’s voice held no rancor.
“I’m sorry,” Grandfather was quick to say. “If anyone or anything, except Gabriella, could have kept me here, it would have been you. But you see, I felt called to give up everything and live much as Jesus lived while He was here on the earth.
I couldn’t live as I was and feel I was true to my calling, and I couldn’t ask you to give up your life for me.” “I know. And I understand.”
At that moment, Gabriella’s admiration for Miss Evitts increased a hundredfold. She had never thought she could be that understanding. Certainly her father hadn’t.
Before long the house bustled with a small but celebratory band of friends. Reconciliation helped Father rebound enough that he could make a brief appearance in the parlor, holding court in his favorite chair for all of a half hour. Gabriella hadn’t seen him so happy in recent memory.
Spotting Douglas Tizdale, Gabriella remembered an errand she’d made a mental note to do. “Oh, Fern, come with me a moment.” She took her friend by the hand.
“Something exciting?” Fern looked well. She had chosen a flattering pink party frock, the likes of which Gabriella could hardly believe she owned. “Yes, I have someone I want you to meet.”
During introductions, the couple’s gazes met, and when Gabriella pointed out Fern’s new hobby of bird-watching, a passion of Douglas’s, their faces reflected a natural bond.
R.C. came up behind her. “You certainly are a wonderful hostess. I am astounded that you were able to put on this extraordinary celebration so soon after returning from such a dramatic trip.”
“Oh, it was nothing.” Gabriella’s modesty was both false and reflexive. Wishing she had thought of a more witty reply, she hurried to the next topic. “I have something for you. Could you take a moment with me in the kitchen? I’m afraid all the seats are taken elsewhere in the house.”
“Your kitchen is always a pleasant place to while away the time.”
The kitchen seemed particularly homey that day, with scents of cookies, candy, and wassail lingering in the air. After they were seated, R.C. handed a shocked Gabriella a box wrapped in white tissue paper with a paper lace tag.
She read aloud the handwritten words. “Merry Christmas with love from R.C.” The reference to love made her blush.
“I hope you don’t think me too bold.”
Her heart beat faster. “No.” Deliberately not looking at him, she tore open the paper with ladylike precision to reveal a bottle of Fleur d’Italie perfume from Guerlain. “French perfume! How exotic and exquisite!”
“I understand from my sister that women like this sort of thing instead of books such as the one I got her for Christmas.”
“I believe she mentioned it. You’re learning.”
“I hope so.” Nervous, he took in a breath. “Do you think I have a lot to learn about women?”
She laughed in spite of herself. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Maybe you would like to discover for yourself?” His voice wasn’t coy or teasing.
Her heart beat faster. “I—I would like that.”
“That’s just what I wanted to hear.” He took her by the hand until they were both standing, embracing one another. He gazed into her face. At that moment, she realized the kiss she had awaited was about to be hers. Half closing her eyes, she looked upon his lips, the lips she had been dreaming of kissing.
They drew closer, and then touched her, warmly and softly, with ease at first, then becoming more urgent, filled with passion and longing. “How I have dreamed of this moment,” he whispered in between kisses.
She drew him to herself more tightly, with an awakened passion she didn’t know she possessed. If only the kisses didn’t have to end. But finally, unwillingly, they drew apart from one another, yet remained in each other’s arms.
“You were there all along for me, only I didn’t know it. Praise the Lord for opening my eyes to see the real you.” R.C.’s eyes glimmered.
“And I, the real you. May our eyes and hearts be open to one another forever.”
Epilogue
December 25, the following year
Hurry! Everyone’s waiting.” Dressed in green finery, Fern, Gabriella’s maid of honor, touched her shoulder for emphasis. “They can’t start without me,” Gabriella teased.
“When I marry this spring, I won’t be late for my wedding.” Fern fingered the modest diamond ring on her left ring finger. “I’ll never keep Douglas waiting.”
Gabriella’s mood was too light for her to resist another jest. Knowing Douglas would be escorting Fern as R.C.’s groomsman, she asked, “But isn’t he waiting for you now?” “Not any longer than I can help!”
Gabriella grew more pensive as she recognized her father waiting for her in the narthex. By the grace of God, through the power of forgiveness and reconciliation, he had slowly regained enough health to see her through this day. Gabriella took his arm and looked down the church aisle sprinkled with rose petals and saw R.C. waiting for her. Her friends and family stood in honor of her and of the day she would wed the one she loved. Even Grandfather, escorting Miss Pamela, stood to see her greet her groom.
Gabriella couldn’t have asked for more. She was home, and would always be home, with those she loved. Indeed, love had come home for Christmas.
Tamela Hancock Murray, a Virginia native, is a bestselling, award-winning author of over twenty fiction and nonfiction books and many novellas. Her writing appears in several compilations as well. Tamela seeks to provide other Christians with edifying, entertaining works. She enjoys living in Northern Virginia with her husband of over twenty-five years. They are the proud parents of a daughter in high school and another who has already left the nest. In her spare time, Tamela enjoys volunteering, traveling, entertaining and of course, reading! Learn more about Tamela at www.tamelahancockmurray.com. She loves to hear from readers through her Web site or through e-mail at [email protected].
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