She was sinking into the peaceful feeling when Rachel elbowed her in the ribs. “I thought Justin and his dad went to church in Dalton.”
Leave me alone. God and I are having a moment.
She elbowed again. “Taryn.”
“Yes.” She hissed. “As far as I know.” Now leave me and God alone.
“So why is he here?”
Taryn jerked her head up and followed Rachel’s gaze across the room. Near the front on the left were shoulders she recognized without fail, next to his father, whose hymnal trembled slightly as he sang.
Her fingers gripped the hymnal tighter, watching, unable to look away from his unexpected appearance and definitely not wanting to look at Rachel. She’d start asking questions.
As if he could feel her gaze, Justin glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes found Taryn’s, empty and dark. She wanted to look away. She wanted to mouth I’m sorry. She wanted to turn back time. But before anything could happen, the lights cut and he was too far away to see.
Before the first candle could be lit, Taryn pushed past Rachel and out into the aisle, bolting for freedom, for home, where she wouldn’t have to face him.
18
Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime” blared out of the alarm clock at six on Christmas morning. Taryn slapped her hand down on the snooze and buried her head under the pillow, muttering, “Shut up, Paul McCartney.” It was too early in the morning after a night with not nearly enough sleep. After several nights with not nearly enough sleep if the honesty train was chugging through town.
She missed Justin. There. She’d thought it in words and not just in vague, aching emotions. Somewhere in the deepest part of her, there had been the barely formed idea they’d at least see each other on Christmas this year, and the whole new year would be a whole new beginning for them, where somehow she’d find a way to tell him the truth on her terms, and he’d be okay with it.
Kind of like Harry’s “Christmas Dreaming” crooning over at Jemma’s last night during dinner. Dreaming got you nowhere, Harry, but the thought was nice.
Taryn rolled over and pulled the sheets tighter around her, Justin’s letter crinkling as her arm made contact. No matter how many times she’d read it last night, she couldn’t wrap her head around it and make it real. The what ifs just wouldn’t leave her alone when her eyes closed.
The covers slid down to her waist as she sat up in bed and switched off the alarm for real, then dragged her hands back through her hair. Lying in bed wouldn’t do anybody any good. No matter what her life looked like, she couldn’t deny what day it was. God was good, and Christmas proved it.
Besides, Jemma was waiting for her to come and have their traditional Christmas breakfast.
What was there to mope about anyway? Jemma admired her own Christmas tree at home instead of lying in the hospital with a tiny Charlie Brown tree for company. Her recovery made this better than every other Christmas.
With a crackle of protest, Justin’s letter went into the top drawer of her nightstand. Taryn slipped her Bible over and flipped to Matthew for a healthy dose of what this day was about. It for sure wasn’t all about her.
Or was it? Her finger tapped verse twenty-three, highlighted in neon orange at some point long ago. Immanuel. God with us. With her. God gave up His child to do what was best for His children. For her. Because He loved her. Even when she’d royally, royally messed up.
Lord, I did all of the right things for all of the wrong reasons. Except lying. Lying was the wrong thing no matter what the reason. It was time she let go of it all, from her dad up to the lie she’d told Justin by never telling him anything at all.
This new beginning would start with a face-to-face apology. Chances were high he’d never look her in the eye, but he deserved the whole truth, even if he hated her.
With a new peace and a new resolve, Taryn set her Bible aside and headed for the kitchen for coffee, stopping by her tree to lay a finger on her mother’s tiny handprint, then on her own, then in the space beneath, finally at peace with Sarah’s life.
Her fingers trailed across the branches to the miniature Fred ornament Justin had found somewhere and slipped onto her tree. I could have fallen in love with you for real this time.
She had. Taryn cupped the little truck in her hand and let its weight rest, not surprised by the revelation. She’d known it from the moment he sat beside her in the hospital waiting room, and he’d only confirmed it by stitching on the quilt with her, hauling Jemma a tree, bringing movies to the hospital . . .
Marnie said real love didn’t have conditions. Something told Taryn that Justin had already figured love out. A flick to the truck set it swinging slightly. A good truck and a good man. She’d shoved them both away.
But this day was about Jesus and her so, walking into the kitchen on the trail of fresh-brewed coffee, Taryn thanked God for her auto-start coffeemaker. It was definitely one of His good gifts.
Her favorite thick white mug full of coffee sent warmth up her arms and into her soul. And maybe . . . “C’mon, God. Can we have a white Christmas this year?” The drizzly snow of the past few weeks gave her hope, but to be honest, Hollings wasn’t known for snow this time of year.
Using the coffee cup, Taryn eased back the curtain over her sink and peeked at the backyard. Nothing but muddy dead grass.
Back through the kitchen and into the den. Like a kid checking for a snow day, something in her hoped maybe there’d been a blizzard in the front yard and it had simply missed the back.
One peek through the blinds dashed her hope. She backed away and started to drop the blinds, but the sun peeked over the edge of the world and highlighted a hulking shape in her front yard.
What is . . . ?
There was a truck in her driveway. For one brief instant, her heart skipped. Justin. But it wasn’t. The cab was too small. In fact, it was a single cab. Like . . .
“Fred.”
Her hands gripped the coffee mug tighter as the day grew gradually lighter. It couldn’t be Fred. He was so long gone, he must be in the junkyard in Craymont by now, or on somebody’s back forty rusting.
A Christmas wish she hadn’t even known she wanted, spoken out loud on a whim to Justin, the only one who knew.
Setting the coffee mug on the window ledge, Taryn raced through the kitchen to find her boots by the door, dragged them on, and hit the driveway in a splash of mud that coated the bottoms of her pajamas.
Circling the truck, she studied it from all angles. It was Fred, down to the dent in the rear bumper where she’d backed into one of Jemma’s pecan trees when Grampa was teaching her how to drive. Jemma didn’t make her caramel cake for months.
It was Fred, but not like the last time she’d seen him. He was polished in all of his blue-and-white glory for Christmas.
Justin was the only one who knew she missed Fred, unless he’d told Jemma. He must have told her because there was no way he’d do something like this. It was too extravagant. Too much like love.
She reached out a hand and let it hover near the door. If she touched him, would he vanish? Taking the chance, she closed her eyes and gripped the door handle, then peeked. Fred was still there. A grin split her face clean in two.
Dropping her head against the side window, she ran her hand down the door between the window and the frame and whispered, “I’m sorry I sold you off.”
“It’s a truck, not a horse, you know.”
Her fingers tightened on the door handle. Fred might be real and in her driveway, but the voice had to be a hallucination.
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have feelings.” The voice again. “Then again, it’s Fred, so he might. I’d imagine you owe him that apology, selling him the way you did.”
Taryn let go of the door handle and turned slowly. If she moved too fast, she might wake up.
Justin sat on her white porch swing, blue-jeaned legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, hands stuffed in the pockets of his work coat.
C
hills pricked Taryn’s arms and worked their way down her legs. Suddenly, she was aware of her blue flannel pj pants, sweatshirt, and hiking boots. Her hands flew to her head. No telling what her hair looked like.
“You look fine, McKenna.” His voice grew huskier.
“I look like I just woke up.” The words squeaked out.
He shrugged. “You look about right for Christmas morning.”
“What are you doing here?” She wished the words sounded more polite because she wanted him there, even if her question didn’t quite telegraph it.
He stood, walked to the rail, and braced his hands, never looking away from her. “I had to bring Fred.”
“Why?”
“Christmas Day, Christmas present . . . makes sense.”
Taryn sank against Fred, knees refusing to hold her anymore. A tiny flicker of hope lit behind her heart. “Justin, I—”
He held up a hand. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. You know, if you treat trucks right they’ll be there forever. They’ll give you everything they’ve got, but you have to put love into them.” He drew his arms in and gripped the rail tighter, looking at Fred. “But you beat a truck up, don’t give it what it needs, it’ll quit on you. It can’t lay out what it doesn’t take in.”
“You came over here to give me a lesson in mechanics?”
“No. I came to bring Fred home.” Justin threw his arms wide. “Merry Christmas.”
Taryn felt behind her for the door, looking for something solid in this down-the-rabbit-hole morning. “You did this?”
“I did.”
“Why? After what I did . . .”
“Because you wanted Fred. And I wanted you to have everything you wanted.”
“But—”
“And I wanted to hear what you had to say. The whole story. About us.” The slight cockiness he wore cracked. “About Sarah.”
Her early morning prayer floated through Taryn’s mind. Apologize. While you have the chance. She wanted to push away from the truck and swish through the muddy grass to him, but her legs would never make it. The chills had led to trembling, whether from the cold or the confrontation, she wasn’t sure.
From this angle, he was looking down at her. It was fitting. She didn’t deserve eye level. “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked around words too long in coming. “I should’ve told you.” All she had left was a whisper.
“Yeah, you should’ve. What you did was rotten and . . . wrong.”
She could only nod, not trusting her words.
“How do you feel about it all now?” Justin looked like a lot hinged on the question.
The building peace burst forth. “Sarah’s had a better life than we could have given her. I couldn’t have been a good mom. I was too messed up.” He had to understand, even if he couldn’t forgive her.
“I was angry after I found out. Angrier than I’ve ever been at anyone and, believe me, the army can make you pretty angry. But God has this crazy way . . .” Justin shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’d picked up Fred from Bob two days before Jemma aired everything. Wouldn’t you know, the only place to channel my energy was your confounded truck. First, I figured I’d sell it, maybe try to let you feel how much you hurt me.”
“I already knew you were hurting.”
He continued as if he didn’t hear her. “The harder I worked, the more I realized what I said earlier. The more I realized you’re Fred.”
“What?” Now she knew she had to be dreaming because none of this made sense.
He sniffed, and it sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “You’re not a bag of bolts like the truck, but he’s been around for a long time. Your granddaddy loved him. So did you. Bob has treated him right too. Wasn’t a lot of work to prettying him up. But you weren’t treated right. You had no idea how to lay out any kind of love because your dad never put any work into loving you. Frankly, the way I acted then . . . I’d have run, too, if I were you.” He ran his hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck. “It wasn’t my best day.”
“Mine, either.”
“If I know you, and I think I do, you’ve hurt over this for a long time. Well, I’m just beginning. It’s going to take some time to get over the shock, but it’s time you stopped carrying it by yourself. And I’ll be honest. I don’t think I’m capable of dealing with this on my own.”
The ringing in her ears wouldn’t let her comprehend the words until he stepped down from the porch and was standing in front of her, closer than she thought he’d ever be again.
“Your grandmother’s best friend, she doesn’t quit. She came to see me a couple of days ago.”
“Marnie?” What in the world was she thinking, digging her nose where it didn’t belong? She might not be Jemma’s sister, but she definitely behaved like the same blood coursed through their veins.
“Yeah. She reminded me about what it means to love somebody. And what it means to forgive. Told me about the letter you never got.” Justin tucked a stray hair behind Taryn’s ear. “Fact of the matter is, McKenna, I do love you. I’m pretty sure I never stopped. But you’re going to have to forgive me for being an impulsive, angry kid who said some pretty harsh things to you when you were hurting. If I hadn’t . . .” His eyes finally landed on hers. “Who knows what would have been different today?”
“You were going to ask me to marry you?”
He nodded.
“At eighteen.”
Another nod. “And here’s the other thing.”
Taryn arched an eyebrow, out of words. He was standing too close, stealing all of her air and revving her heartbeat. If this was a dream, she wanted to keep on having it.
“I’m going to ask you again at thirty.”
Her whole face went slack. Her chin must have dropped to her knees.
“Way I figure it, God’s got a sense of humor.” He stepped out of her line of sight and reached into the back of the truck, then came back, a large box between them.
Taryn didn’t have to open it to know what it was. “The quilt.”
“Jemma started it for us and hid it away, only you found it just in time for me to act all girly and sew it with you.” His grin slipped. “I don’t believe in coincidence.” He slid the box over her head onto the roof of the truck. “I knew once I moved back, we’d see each other. When Jemma called, it seemed like maybe the time was right. God was thinking we needed more than me fixing a roof, I guess, so He brought together a leaky roof, two quilts, and my amazing talent with a needle.”
More than anything, Taryn wanted to sink into him, let him wrap his arms around her, and tell him she was his forever. But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair. Taryn lay her palms on his chest, warm through the thick, coarse black of his coat. “I can’t marry you.”
“I didn’t ask. Yet. There’s a lot for both of us to work through. I’m going to hang onto the quilt until you’re ready for it. Deal?” He smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead. “My first thought is we have a trip to take to Texas soon. Together. There’s someone we both need to meet.”
He understood. Taryn gripped his biceps like she’d spin off the planet if she let go. And he was willing to wait for her to get it straight. “Know what, Callahan?”
A full-blown grin erupted. “What, McKenna?”
“I’m pretty sure I love you too.”
He finally, blessedly, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, warming her from the inside out. “Then what more could I want for Christmas?”
“Legos.”
“What?” The word cracked on a laugh.
“I bought you Legos.”
“Then my life is complete.” All trace of laughter gone, he closed the space between them, brushed a quick kiss, then came in for one longer, deeper, full of promise, and forgiveness and love, like Taryn had never been offered before.
She accepted. Because there really was such a thing as Christmas “magic,” where God’s hand could lead you to a place where all your dreams came true.
Group Discussion Guide
1. Family plays a central role in Taryn’s life, and her father and grandmother in particular play major—if opposite—roles. Describe someone in your family who had a profound influence on your life.
2. Have you, like Taryn, ever kept a secret you shouldn’t have kept? How did it affect your emotions? Your relationship with the person you kept the secret from? Your relationship with God?
3. The McKennas have a tradition of giving each new bride a quilt, symbolically linking the generations. Describe a tradition your family has or discuss one that you would like to start.
4. When Taryn is talking to her student, she says, “Real love is freely given, not taken away because you don’t do what someone wants.” Read 1 Peter 4:8. How does it apply to what Taryn says?
5. Tell about a time when someone forgave you for something that you thought was “unforgivable.” Is there someone you need to forgive?
6. Toward the end of the novel, Taryn prays, “Lord, I did all of the right things for all of the wrong reasons.” Has there ever been a time when you did the right thing, but your motives were wrong? What happened in the end? What does James 4:3 say about our motives?
7. On Christmas morning, Taryn determines to set aside everything and make Christmas about her relationship with Christ. This Christmas, what can you do to place Christ at the center of the season?
8. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is forgive ourselves. Is there something in your past that you find yourself continually going to God to ask for forgiveness for? God’s forgiven you, is it possible you haven’t forgiven yourself?
9. How does Taryn’s life exemplify 2 Corinthians 5:17? How does this verse apply to your life?
10. How do Justin’s actions in the final chapter express 1 Corinthians 13:7?
Want to learn more about author
Jodie Bailey and check out other great
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Quilted by Christmas (9781426796142) Page 17