Love Inspired December 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: Cozy ChristmasHer Holiday HeroJingle Bell Romance

by Valerie Hansen

  He’d expected her to say a lot of things but not that. “He fell off a ladder. How are you responsible?”

  When she peered at him, sadness dulled her eyes. “Josh and I were talking about decorating the outside of the house with lights the way we’d decorated the inside. My husband overheard, and before I told him I was hiring the teenage boy next door to put them up, he was doing it. He shouldn’t have been up that high, especially without someone there and with concrete below him.”

  “And you blame yourself?”

  “Yes. I knew that Sam thought he could do everything like a normal person—that he didn’t have to keep in mind his seizure disorder. He hated that I had to drive him everywhere. I should never have said anything to Josh with my husband in the house.”

  “Your husband is responsible for his own actions. He knew he shouldn’t get up on a ladder like that. You’re not at fault. It was an accident.”

  “I should have been able to protect him. He had epilepsy. I needed to be there for him.”

  “Smothering him?”

  “I—I didn’t think so. I always looked at it as though we were in it together.” She closed the space between them. “I can’t turn my back on someone I care about. Someone I love.” She swallowed hard. “Like you.”

  He wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard what she’d said, but he couldn’t. He could never ask her to tie herself to a man who was damaged and needed fixing. What if he never got better? He thought he was, and then he’d had a full-blown attack in public—for Josh to see. “You’re a caregiver. That isn’t love. Go back to the ceremony. Enjoy yourself.”

  “I don’t want to leave. We need to deal with this together.”

  “Why? So you can manage my life? I don’t want that. I want to be cured. I want to be normal.”

  “What’s normal for one isn’t what is for another.”

  “I should have known those were firecrackers. I’ve heard them before. I used to set them off as a kid. I couldn’t stop the panic attack. Please leave.” He strode to the door and opened it. “Thanks for bringing me home.” He stared into space, avoiding meeting her eyes. He might give in and try to hold on to her when it wasn’t fair to Emma to saddle her with another man like her husband—broken.

  *

  Surrounded by all her Christmas decorations with the pine tree full of ornaments in front of the picture window in the living room—the one Jake had helped her put up—Emma paced while Abbey sat on the couch and watched her. “I don’t know what to do. Jake isn’t answering the door or his phone. Last Sunday Josh and I left the Christmas tree we were going to decorate together on his porch. I know he’s there because the tree’s gone. It’s been four days since what happened Saturday night at the lighting of the Christmas tree ceremony. He’s gone back to being a hermit.”

  “He did come to Monday night’s session. We don’t have our private one until tomorrow. I could go by today and see if he’ll talk to me.”

  “Please try to get him to talk about Saturday night. He told me he wanted to be normal. He wouldn’t believe me when I said normalcy is relative. I think he feels like he’s beaten, may always be that way.”

  “I’ll try my best. The good news is he came on Monday night so he hasn’t given up. He’s just frustrated.”

  Stopping her pacing, Emma intertwined her fingers, clasping them together until her knuckles whitened. “I told him I loved him Saturday. He said what I’m feeling isn’t love.” She connected visually with Abbey. “I love him. His having PTSD doesn’t change how I feel. Sam’s having epilepsy didn’t change how I felt about him.”

  “Give him time to get a grasp on what he’s dealing with. He’s gone through a lot in the past eight months.”

  “I know. I didn’t set out to fall in love, and I didn’t mean to say it to him, especially right after a panic attack.”

  “I’m working with him on some techniques, but they will take time to become automatic and feel natural to him. What he said just came out.”

  Emma’s eyes blurred with unshed tears. She’d cried for the past few nights, wishing they hadn’t gone to the ceremony. But that panic attack in such a public place could have happened at another time. Not going wouldn’t have necessarily changed the end result. “I told him about feeling guilty concerning Sam’s death.” Since she hadn’t told anyone but Jake, she explained to Abbey.

  “Did he tell you it wasn’t your fault?”

  Emma nodded.

  “He’s right. People are responsible for their own actions. You can’t control everything. When Sam died, you felt your life do an about-face. Suddenly, you were going in a different direction—a single mom with a debt to pay off. Don’t put more burdens on yourself by feeling guilty. God has a wonderful way of forgiving anyone who repents and asks for forgiveness. If you need to, ask him to forgive you and then let it go. Give control over to the Lord. He’ll take you on a wild and exciting ride.” Abbey stood, rolling her shoulders.

  Emma closed the space between them and hugged her. “Thanks. I should have told you when Sam died how I was feeling, but I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

  “The only thing you should care about is what God thinks of you. When you have Him in your corner, everything else falls into place.”

  Emma thought about what Abbey had said about guilt and control. She needed to let both of them go. Whether or not Jake wanted to continue one day in a relationship, she needed to say goodbye to the past.

  *

  Jake stared at the Christmas tree Emma and Josh had delivered on Sunday, bare of any decorations. A box of four ornaments—homemade by Emma and Josh—sat next to the live pine, its scent permeating the room. They still were in the carton. He couldn’t put them or the boxes of ornaments that were his grandma’s on the branches.

  When the doorbell rang, he considered ignoring whoever was there, but he couldn’t keep doing that. Marcella had left him some cinnamon rolls yesterday, and the worried look on her face had almost made him answer the door.

  When the chimes filled the air again, he rose and plodded toward the foyer. When he saw Abbey, he hesitated then realized this couldn’t keep going on. He might not be able to have the type of relationship with Emma he wanted, but he had to get on with his life. Abbey could help him.

  He let her in. “Our next session isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “Yes, but I thought we could talk today, too. Except for the Monday night group, have you left this house since Saturday night?”

  “No, but that was only four days ago. Not that unusual for me.”

  “I would agree if we were talking about a month ago. Let’s talk.” Abbey marched into his living room and took a seat in a chair. “I have some material for you. I would like you to read it today, and then we’ll discuss it tomorrow. It’s a method to help you overcome your panic attacks beyond what you’re doing. It’s reprogramming how you think about the attacks when they begin.”

  He sank down on the couch across from her, his gaze momentarily lingering on the Christmas tree behind Abbey.

  “You need to accept this will take time and that’s okay. You’ve come a long way in the past two months, and you’ll go further, but not overnight.”

  “In other words, I shouldn’t become a recluse because of what happened Saturday night in front of a crowd.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Have you seen Emma?” He didn’t want to ask but couldn’t stop himself.

  “I saw her this morning before she left for work, and she’s worried about you. You canceled the self-defense class for Tuesday. You aren’t answering her calls or the door. She gets it—you don’t want to talk to her. But you didn’t answer for Marcella or Sandy when they came by, either.”

  “I made a fool of myself in front of so many people. In front of Josh.”

  “He knows you have PTSD and understands. His uncle does, and he loves Ben. Emma talked to Josh on Sunday. To him it doesn’t mean anything. You are his hero.”

  “I’
m no one’s hero.”

  “Because you survived when some of your men didn’t?”

  He nodded.

  “God has special plans for you, and you can’t argue with the Lord. So what are you going to do about it?”

  He stared at the material she’d placed on the coffee table. “I’ll start by reading this, then I’ll meet with you tomorrow.”

  Abbey pushed to her feet. “Then I’ll leave you to get started.”

  After she was gone, he began reading what she had brought him. When he finished, he looked up and caught sight of the Christmas tree. He remembered what Emma said about seeing hers and feeling hope. He rose and went to the box with the four ornaments in it. He took each one out and put it on the pine.

  *

  The next day Jake faced the four boys in his workout room with Sandy off to the side. She’d brought them, and he’d asked her to stay for a few minutes. He scanned the face of each one, and all he saw in their expressions was respect—nothing different from before. His chest tightened.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I canceled Tuesday afternoon, but after what happened Saturday, I had some thinking to do. I have panic attacks occasionally. In the case of Saturday night the sound of firecrackers going off caused me to react as though I was under fire. I’m working to deal with my panic attacks, but it’ll take time. I’ll understand if you don’t want to continue with the self-defense classes.”

  Josh’s face screwed up in a puzzled look. “What does that have to do with our class?”

  “Yeah, I want to keep learning,” Craig said with the other guys nodding.

  Sandy moved between the children and Jake. “We have faith in you. These boys look forward to these classes. You have made them feel like they can handle anything. They feel better about themselves, not to mention you took care of the bullying.”

  The constriction in his chest eased as he swept his gaze from one child to the next. Sandy has it wrong. These guys have made me feel better about myself. “Then let’s get going. We have a lot to do today. First, let’s stretch.”

  An hour later Jake realized how important these sessions with the four had been for him, too. They had looked to him for guidance and help, and he’d been able to give it to them. Maybe he would be able to deal with his own problems.

  When Emma showed up to take the boys home, he didn’t know what to say to her. She deserved more than he could give her. He didn’t know how long it would take for him to overcome his PTSD.

  Emma said, “Josh, you and the guys go on out to the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Then Emma turned to Jake with a neutral expression. Slowly, hurt invaded her eyes. “I wanted to thank you for doing this for them. Josh was so disappointed not to be able to come on Tuesday, but he understood you needed time and so did I.” Her voice became husky. “My feelings are the same whether you have a panic attack or not. That doesn’t define you as a person in my mind.” She waited a moment for him to say something and, when he didn’t, she swung around and left.

  He knew he loved her as he watched her walk away, but no words came to mind to say to her. He couldn’t come to her the way he was now.

  *

  In the pitch dark Jake woke up to the sound of ice pelting his bedroom window. He tried his lamp on the nightstand but nothing happened. His battery-operated clock read six o’clock. The chill in the air indicated the electricity had been off for hours.

  The predicted ice storm must have moved in last night. He needed to get up and check outside. If it didn’t look as if the electricity was coming on anytime soon, he would use the generator he’d bought for an emergency like this. But the warmth under his covers enticed him to stay in bed until it was light enough to see rather than make his way to the kitchen in the dark to get his flashlight.

  The continual bombarding of the ice against his house set off alarm bells in his mind. He hadn’t been in an ice storm in years, but it could leave a town crippled if it lasted long. Did Emma have a generator to warm at least part of her house? The temperature high for the next few days was only supposed to be in the mid-twenties. Maybe in the morning he’d try calling her if the phones still worked and find out if she was all right. He’d feel better—

  The blare of his phone startled him. His heartbeat accelerated as he fumbled for it on the bedside table. “Hello.”

  “Jake, a tree fell on our house. Mom’s trapped in her bedroom.” Tears laced Josh’s urgent words.

  “I’ll be right there, Josh. Is she hurt?”

  “She says no but she can’t get out and the ice is falling on her. I called 911, but they can’t get here for a while.”

  Throwing back the covers, Jake swung his legs over the side of the bed, then rose. “Don’t go in there. Tell her I’m coming.”

  “Hurry. I’m scared.”

  In the dark Jake searched for the jeans and sweatshirt he’d tossed toward the chair last night. When he found them, he dressed quickly, telling himself over and over Emma and Josh were okay. He would get them and bring them back here. But his heart pounded against his rib cage, and his chest felt tight.

  Feeling his way to the kitchen, he went through his mental routine to keep him focused on getting to Emma’s without having a panic attack. After he retrieved the large flashlight, he looked for a saw in his toolbox, then started for the front door.

  The sky a dark gray, Jake paused on his porch to figure the best way to go while he swept his flashlight in a wide arc over the terrain. Ice coated everything at least an inch thick, glittering when his light hit it. Although the landscape was beautiful to behold, to be out in it was dangerous. Fortunately, snow was beginning to fall and would allow him to walk better.

  Bundled up, Jake descended the steps, gripping the railing, then headed out into the mixture of falling snow and ice. Lord, please keep Emma and Josh safe. Help me to get there before any harm is done.

  The silence was eerie until a loud noise like the crack of a rifle reverberated in the air. Adrenaline pumped through him. Instead of tensing, he breathed from the diaphragm, slow, deep inhalations. He began to relax, even when another cracking noise—louder, nearer—echoed through the quiet. A limb on Marcella’s oak in the front snapped and crashed to the ground. When Emma and Josh were safe back at his house, he would check on his neighbor.

  As Jake crept toward the middle of the street where there were no overhead branches to break off and fall on him, he kept taking in and releasing those deep breaths while acknowledging he was having a panic attack. “I’m okay. This gives me a chance to prove to myself I can cope. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The sounds aren’t gunfire but limbs breaking off trees.”

  He headed toward Emma’s as fast as he could, praying the whole way. With each step he took he felt more capable of handling his panic attack, even though he continued to hear branches snapping off nearby as well as in the distance. The rapid beat of his heart slowed. The trembling faded.

  In the distance he saw a light flash in the sky and a loud boom resonated through the air. Just a transformer going. That’s all. I’m okay.

  By the time he reached Emma’s block, all signs of a panic attack were gone, although the loud noises still sounded in the biting, cold wind. When he’d had an attack before, he’d always gotten upset, making it worse. Abbey had been working with him to accept what was happening to him, and then move on.

  And he had. He smiled. Thank You, Lord.

  Then he spied Emma’s house two down from the corner. A large elm tree had split and fallen on the right side of her place—where her bedroom was. He tried increasing his pace, but he slipped and went down on the knee of his good leg. Catching himself by clutching a mailbox, he used it to pull himself up then slowed his steps. With the Lord and patience, I’ll make it.

  Dressed in a heavy coat, sweats and gloves, Josh opened the door before Jake made it halfway up the sidewalk to the porch. Worry lined the boy’s face.

  When he started to come outside, Jake said,
“Don’t. Close the door. I’ll be there in a minute,” then he proceeded at his slow pace.

  When he made it inside Emma’s house, he heard the whistle of the wind coming from the hallway to the right. “How’s your mom?”

  “She says okay, but I can hear her teeth chattering.”

  Jake covered the distance to the hallway and started down it, noticing the bedroom door was closed.

  “Mom made me shut it to keep as much heat in the house as possible.”

  “Good thinking.” Jake swung the door open, saying, “Stay here. If I need you, I’ll call you,” then he closed himself in the room with Emma, assessing the situation.

  “I’m sorry you had to get out in this. I asked Josh to call 911. He did, but they won’t be here for a while since I’m not hurt. I told him I could wait. Instead, he called you.”

  “As I told him a few seconds ago, good thinking.”

  Jake examined the split half of the elm, a large branch falling across Emma’s bed, several smaller limbs trapping her. A coverlet blanketed her but so did a layer of ice and now snow. Her face pale, she shivered, her lips turning blue.

  Jake set down his flashlight so it shone on what he needed to cut. “Do you have something plastic I can cover you with? It’ll keep the snow and ice off while I saw you out of there.”

  “A raincoat…oh, and I have a plastic tablecloth. It’s bigger than the raincoat. It’s in the cabinet in the utility room.”

  Jake climbed over the branches between him and the one he needed to remove. “Josh.” When the boy came into the room, Jake said, “I need you to fetch a plastic tablecloth.” After Jake told him where it was, Josh left, and Jake started sawing the biggest limb.

  When Josh returned, he wiggled through the limbs and handed Jake the tablecloth. “I wanna stay and help.”

  Emma said, “I want you to stay out—”

  Jake interrupted, “Sure. I need you to hold the flashlight.” As the child grabbed it, Jake whispered to Emma, “He needs to know you’re okay.”

  Emma attempted a smile that stayed a few seconds. “I know but it’s so cold.”