by Jillian Hart
“Exactly. We have to see each other all the time. There’s no way around it between work and church and this is a small town. We could bump into each other at any time.”
“All the same reasons I’ve been thinking.” He reached out, giving her clear warning before his fingertips brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I almost made a list.”
“Me, too.” She could have moved away—she should have moved away, but she sat riveted by his touch, slow, gentle, sweet. The most tender thing she’d ever known. “So I guess we’ve settled it. We’re staying friends?”
“Friends.” He folded the wayward strands behind her ear, and his gaze searched hers. In his kind blue eyes she saw what she feared most. He cared for her, he really did. Their agreement hadn’t changed that. She still cared for him, too.
“Friends. This is just what we both want, so it’s a good thing.” She grabbed her bag, unable to explain the blinding pain cracking through her chest. Indigestion? Angina? Heartbreak? “Friends are always there for each other. Friends are always willing to lend a hand.”
“Friends don’t let you down.” He stood when she did, and for a moment she thought he had more to say, but he fell silent. She didn’t say anything more either. This was the best solution. Sensible, logical, safe.
And sad, she thought as she stumbled into the aisle. “Susan’s waiting. I’d better go.”
“Right. See you later at the office, or at the food drive meeting?” He planted his hands on his hips, emphasizing the line of his shoulders, the strength of his broad chest, lost in the shadows. “I have prayers to say.”
“Right. I’ll say one for Kelsey. I’ll say a dozen of them.” How could she have forgotten? And why was she so rattled? Her boots carried her down the aisle that suddenly went blurry. She would pray in the car, but she needed distance to convince herself she’d made the right decision. When she reached the doorway, she risked a glance at the man nearly lost in shadow. Sorrow hit her like a punch as she hurried away.
Chapter Sixteen
The week before Christmas buzzed by in a whirl. Ensemble practice, last-minute Christmas gifts, begging the photography shop to have Dad’s present ready by Christmas Eve. The only time Chelsea had run into Michael had been at the last food drive meeting where she and a dozen volunteers bagged and boxed canned goods for the needy in their church. Michael had been across the multipurpose room and have given her a half smile in the bustle. That’s all she’d seen of him all week.
Fine, so she really missed him, but this was a much better arrangement. Really. No worrying about things progressing too fast. No worrying about love letting her down. She squirted toothpaste on her purple toothbrush and ran it under the water. She was doing the smart thing. This was exactly how she wanted her life to go. Now all she had to do was convince her heart.
That might take time, but she could do it. She studied her reflection in the mirror—sleep-mussed hair, flannel pajamas and dark circles under her eyes. Okay, she hadn’t been sleeping well. She had a lot on her mind, and it wasn’t easy for a girl to convince herself not to follow her heart.
“Okay, I know when you’re excited about something.” Meg charged through the open door and yanked open a drawer and pawed through it. “Don’t even think about denying it. Your denial won’t work with me.”
“Too bad. Denial is all I’ve got,” she said around a mouthful of toothpaste. “Denial and nothing else. Sorry.”
“Let’s see. Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas Eve.” Meg pawed around and came up with a hair elastic. “That’s pretty exciting.”
“Really, do we have to do this?” She worked her toothbrush around her back molars.
“We really do. Something has your eyes all lit up and I know it’s not the food drive committee thing, because you finished it up early in the week.” Meg gathered her bouncy hair into a ponytail and wound the elastic around it. “Let’s see. What else could it be?”
“No idea.” She spit into the sink, refusing to admit that Meg wasn’t wrong.
“So, why else would you be smiling?” Meg leaned against the counter, sure of the answer.
“I’m not smiling, I’m brushing my teeth,” Chelsea protested in vain.
“We got a check in the mail for Mom’s scholarship,” Meg grinned. “But I get the feeling that’s not it either.”
“Okay, you might as well say it.” She waved her toothbrush in the air for emphasis. “You think it’s because of Michael.”
“I know it is. Sister dear, you’ve had a hangdog expression all week, and suddenly on Friday morning, his office day, you are lit up like a Christmas tree.”
“I am not. Michael is a friend.” It broke her heart to say the word, but it was for the best. “That’s it.”
“Sure.” Meg rolled her eyes and opened the cabinet door. Footsteps padded in the hallway and she called out to the unseen sister around the corner. “Did you hear that, Johanna?”
“Yes, but I don’t believe it. Not for a second.” Johanna poked her head around the door frame, her dark hair caught in a sleek ponytail, fresh in from feeding the horses. “Chelsea, don’t you know that you can’t lead your heart, your heart leads you?”
“I totally agree with that,” Meg chimed in.
“I’m taking the Fifth.” Mostly because she wanted to disagree on principle, but time had not made her miss Michael any less. Distance from him had not stopped her affection for him. That just couldn’t be good. She rinsed her toothbrush and plopped it into its holder.
“Hey, we have a problem. Have either of you two sleepyheads looked outside yet?” Johanna leaned against the door frame. “You know that storm they were predicting for tonight? Well, it came in last night. Surprise. Drifts are everywhere and it’s still snowing. Sara Beth was going to check the news—”
“Grimes Road is closed,” Sara Beth called up the stairwell. “We can’t get to town. Johanna, I could use a hand down here.”
“Coming.” But Johanna didn’t move from the door frame. “Well, if we can’t get to town—”
“—then how do we get—” Meg interrupted.
“—Dad’s gift?” Chelsea finished. “We can’t.”
“We can’t drive out and no one could drive in.” Johanna’s forehead furrowed.
“Well, then we’re stuck.” Meg blew out a sigh.
“We don’t even have the original picture to give him in the meantime, because it’s at the photo shop, too.” Which meant Dad wouldn’t have his gift for Christmas.
“We’ll think on it.” Johanna pushed away from the door frame with a determined nod. “We’ll figure out something.”
“But what?” Meg bit her bottom lip. “Any ideas?”
“Not one.” Chelsea shook her head, only that she would walk to town if she had to. It might take her all day, but she’d do it. After breakfast.
She followed the scent of frying bacon and simmering coffee into the kitchen. Dee bounded into the living room with a good-morning bark. Burt deigned to greet her with a glance as he sat at the living room windowsill, peering through the thickly falling snow. Johanna hadn’t been kidding. A good foot or more of new accumulation covered the landscape and the road.
Definitely, no driving to town and no seeing Michael. Disappointment rocked her with a force not even she could deny.
“My dream of a white Christmas came true,” Sara Beth called from the kitchen. “I just didn’t want it to be quite so white.”
“No kidding.” Chelsea followed Dee into the kitchen, where the scent of sizzling bacon made her stomach growl. Bayley looked up from his bed in the corner and blinked a hello. She knelt to rub his soft head. But where were her thoughts? On Michael. He lived in town, he’d likely be able to make it to the clinic. “Where’s Dad?”
“Is he still out at the barn spoiling the horses?
” Meg asked as she sauntered into the kitchen, ponytail swinging.
“You know Dad and horses.” Johanna skirted the breakfast bar with two steaming coffee mugs in hand. “Okay, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in this family.”
“Thanks, Jo.” Chelsea relieved her sister of a coffee mug and took a bracing sip. Much better. Now that her brain was working, she noticed blueberry muffins cooling on the counter and Sara Beth scrambling eggs in a bowl. The kitchen table gleamed with Mom’s holiday dishes. “Remember when we would get up before dawn, squealing down the hall waking everyone up?”
“It was me,” Meg spoke up, skating on her socks into the room. “I was the squealer.”
“And we’d race down the stairs,” Sara Beth remembered, adding a handful of cheese to her mixing bowl. “Still in our jammies.”
“And Mom would follow after us, yawning and tying her robe.” Johanna handed the second coffee cup to Meg. “Dad would grab the camera and start clicking.”
“All the presents under the tree just waiting for us, wrapped with ribbons and bows.” Meg took a sip.
“Mom made every present look special.” Chelsea circled around the island. “My favorite Christmas was when all the presents were opened and Mom said there was one more gift waiting for me in the barn.”
“Rio.” Sara Beth remembered fondly. “It was the same way with my Aurora. We shuffled out to the barn with our pajamas under our coats. There she was waiting for me in her stall.”
“I’d figured out the pattern when my turn came,” Meg confessed as she sipped her coffee. “So after the last present was unwrapped, I was ready to pop with excitement. Mom turned to Dad and said, ‘Grant, I think that’s all the gifts.’ And Dad said, ‘No, there’s still one last one. Now, where did we leave it?’”
“And you shouted, ‘It’s in the barn.’” Chelsea checked the sizzling bacon. “I think you ran so fast you were a blur.”
“Probably,” Meg agreed. “My handsome Charles was waiting for me in his stall. He saw me charging down the aisle, so he leaned over the rail as if he couldn’t wait for me to hug him. It was love at first sight.”
“It was the same with my Ranger.” Johanna tore paper towels from the roll and folded them. “Christmas is the season for love. All kinds of love, including horse love.”
“And especially sister love.” Chelsea grabbed the tongs and dropped a slice of crisp bacon on the paper towel to drain. “There’s nothing like it.”
“Amen.” Sara Beth sidled up close, bowl in hand, and poured the egg mixture into the waiting pan.
“I have the greatest sisters ever.” Johanna carried a plate of muffins to the table.
“That’s what I was going to say.” Meg opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice. Laughter peppered the air as their conversation turned to the upcoming pie-making schedule for later in the morning.
Chelsea plucked another bacon slice from the fry pan and wished she wasn’t thinking of Michael.
* * *
“Are you sure?” Kate Koffman’s face went snow-white. Down the hospital corridor the nurses began singing “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.”
It was going to be a very merry Christmas for the Koffmans. He gave thanks for that. “Kelsey is in remission. Just when we thought it was never going to happen, she surprised us.”
“That’s, oh, that’s—” Tears filled Kate’s eyes and she choked. Her husband drew her into his arms, holding her as she wept with joy.
This was what made his job worth it. When a child beat the odds and a family stayed together, bound by love and hope. It reminded him that every day was a miracle, a day the Lord had made. Something that should never be taken for granted.
He glanced around the doorway at the little girl tucked in bed, playing a board game. Grandma Koffman swiped tears from her eyes, she must have been listening at the door. “Merry Christmas Eve, Kelsey.”
“Merry Christmas Eve, Dr. Mike.” She moved her shoe token four squares. “I got all the railroads.”
“Excellent. Those are my favorites, too.” He pulled a small gift from his white coat pocket and set it on the foot of her bed. “Something from me, my daughter helped pick it out. Your dad tells me we’d better get you discharged before they close every last road in town. You don’t want to spend Christmas Eve stuck here.”
“Nope. I wanna go home.” Her eyes brightened at the word.
“Your wish is my command, Princess Kelsey,” he said. That reminded him of the sleigh ride and of Chelsea snuggled warmly against him in the sleigh with her pretty alto lilting in the wind and snowflakes falling all around her. The affection in him became an unbearable pain of longing and loss wrapped up together. He braced his hands on the foot rail, trying to hide it, waiting for the pain to pass.
It didn’t. It hadn’t since Chelsea had sailed out of the hospital chapel, glad to be just friends. No, that wasn’t accurate. She didn’t want another bad experience with romance, and he didn’t blame her. He’d tried as hard as he could with his marriage, but he and Diana had never had the effortless bond his parents had, or the one he’d always wanted.
“Let’s get going, girl!” Kate Koffman sailed into the room, her lashes damp from her tears and a smile as big as the moon. “We have an adventure ahead of us. They’ve closed Grimes Road. Our road might be next.”
Chelsea lived just off Grimes Road at the end of Wild Rose Lane. Did that mean she hadn’t come into the clinic this morning? He’d come straight to the hospital because of Kelsey, but he’d meant to stop by the office and thank her again for the kitten basket.
When he finally had a few Macie-free minutes to open it, he’d been surprised at what she’d found. Chelsea could blame her sisters all she wanted, but she couldn’t fool him. He knew she had picked out the dozen new cat toys, the top-of-the-line kitten bed not to mention the fuzzy kitty slippers and a purple Sunshine Animal Clinic T-shirt, both in Macie’s size.
A cell phone beeped—not his. Kate wrapped her daughter in a hug, kissed the top of her head and pulled out her phone. “Chelsea just messaged me asking if there was anything she could do for us today.”
“Such a caring doctor.” Grandma Koffman spoke up. “She’s been a good friend to you, Kate.”
“Just when I needed one most,” Kate agreed, tapping away on her keys. “I can’t believe she’s coming into town today. She lives farther out than we do.”
He believed it. That was Chelsea. His chest squeezed so hard his ribs ached. She was always doing for others, her friends, her family, her church and sick kids. It only made him love her more. Of course he loved her.
He left the Koffmans to their preparations and wished them safe driving. Whiteout conditions met him the instant he stepped foot outside. He batted snow out of his eyes as he hiked to the doctor’s lot, beeped open his SUV and dug out his ice scraper all the while thinking of Chelsea. A stubborn layer of ice coated his windshield, so he popped into the car, shivering even as the defroster blasted hot air on high and waited for it to make a dent in the ice.
His work had always been the source of conflict with Diana, the reason why he’d disappointed Diana so much. He’d compromised as much as he could on his work hours, but he’d never been able to leave pediatric oncology, the way she’d asked. She’d been unhappy with who he was, and that was something he’d tried but couldn’t change. He’d done the best he could, and he may never be brilliant at relationships, but he’d done okay. Macie was thriving and happy again and when he was with Chelsea, everything felt right. Perfect. Meant to be.
The week had been agony without her, so he pulled out his phone. Did he text or call? Texting would be easier on his aching heart, but he pressed her phone number instead. Static crackled in his ear. One ring, two rings. Maybe she’d made it in despite the road report and was busy at the clinic.
“Hello?” Wind whistled across the connection. “Michael?”
“It sounds like I caught you outside.” He leaned back against the cool seat, thinking of her smile. His day wasn’t the same without it.
“Yes, you could say I’m outside. Kate texted the good news. They got a miracle just in time for Christmas.” She sounded a little out of breath. And what was that faint crunching sound?
“Yes, they did. Chelsea, are you outside walking in the snow?”
“Something like that. The road to town is closed, so I’m heading out to saddle up Rio.” The wind whistled harder, making it tough to hear.
“Are you trying to come in to work today?”
“No, Steve called to tell me not to try. Susan is filling in, since she lives in town.” She sounded breezy, an independent woman who didn’t need anyone. “I’ve just got an errand to run.”
“It must be important to go out in a storm like this.” Wind gusted the side of his SUV, reminding him of the near whiteout conditions.
“We have one last Christmas gift to pick up, so we’re doing it the old-fashioned way, right, Sara Beth?” In the background someone answered, her words muffled by the driving snowfall, the creak of a door and boots stomping on concrete. “Hey, right now we could be sisters in the eighteen hundreds heading to town on horseback.”
“That’s right,” came Sara Beth’s distant reply. “Let’s hope you don’t have to say the same thing if the power goes out because of the storm. I’m partial to modern-day electricity.”
“Me, too,” he agreed, not to be left out of the conversation. Horses nickering in the background told him they’d reached the barn. He remembered why their trip was so important. Her father’s Christmas present was still in town, at the only photo shop in Sunshine, Wyoming. “And you’re riding what, five miles, in the middle of a whiteout? Anyone else would wait until the storm was over. Chelsea, I’ve never known anyone more stubborn than you.”
“Yes, but stubborn is a good quality. It can mean tenacious, dedicated, and able to see anything through. That’s not so bad, right?”