Christmas in Miracle Cove

by Mary Manners

  “Were you able to fix it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you fix ours, too?”

  “I’ll certainly try.” He pulled the tangled mess from the bag. “But it’s going to be somewhat of a challenge. Wow.”

  “Pretty bad, huh?” Her tiny nose scrunched and she scratched her freckled cheek. “Can I help?”

  “Sure. Hold this end and stand right there.” He handed her the pronged end of one strand and began to slowly unravel the knot. “Gremlins, for sure.”

  “Just like Mom said.”

  Noah chuckled. From the kitchen, he heard the sound of running water as Hope filled the sink basin. She hummed as she worked—a snappy Christmas tune. He imagined her hands dipped in sudsy water, wisps of hair skimming her slight shoulders. She looked good in a pair of faded jeans.

  “You’re getting it, Mr. Noah!” Sydney’s voice drew him back. “Look!”

  The last of the tangle loosened and he stepped over to an outlet. Soon, colorful lights shimmered across the room. When they began a festive dance, blinking in unison, Sydney hopped up and down, clapping.

  “We did it. Good job, Sydney.” Noah stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled a hearty hurrah. “Do you want to help me string them on the tree?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Great. I’ll show you how.”

  He began at the top, looping the strand around the top section of the tree, then let her finish along the bottom. When the lights were set, they both stepped back to admire their handiwork.

  The tree stood cheerfully, wonderfully transformed.

  Hope appeared in the doorway. “It’s beautiful.” She leaned against the door jamb, a dish towel in her hands. The red-velvet shimmer in her eyes matched the warm glow of the lights.

  “Mr. Noah fixed it!” Sydney rushed over to hug Hope. “Can we decorate it, Mom?”

  “That’s a task that will have to wait until tomorrow, since it’s getting late. But we should take a moment to place the star before we leave.”

  “That’s the most important part,” Noah agreed. “Can you find it, Sydney?”

  She scrambled into a plastic crate, and Noah knew the moment she found what she was looking for by the squeal that shook the walls. She rushed back to his side, her cheeks flushed, eyes huge and round as she clutched the star, embellished with lights and small specks of silver tinsel.

  “Lift me up, Mr. Noah.” She tugged on the hem of his shirt. “Please.”

  A lump lodged in Noah’s throat as he gathered her in. Was this what Christmas was supposed to be…family, lights, and laughter mixed with a hearty helping of good food and warm wishes?

  “Higher, Mr. Noah.” Sydney wiggled and stretched. “I can almost reach.”

  He boosted her higher as Hope looked on. Whenever he was near Hope, his pulse revved. He wondered if she felt the same longing for him that he was beginning to feel for her. What a blessing it was to share such a precious holiday—and all the love and joy that came alongside it—with each other.

  “That’s perfect, honey.” Hope’s voice held a raspy edge, and she swiped a fingertip beneath each eye. Tears left a trail of moisture that glistened in the light. “We have to go now.”

  Sydney twisted ’round to look at her. “But the ornaments—”

  “Will just have to wait until tomorrow. If we don’t leave now, we’re going to be late for church.” Hope shook her head.

  “Oh no, we’d better hurry.” Sydney wiggled in Noah’s arms. “We can’t be late. I’ve gotta practice my songs.”

  “Yes, you do. And we have scenery to paint and costumes to sew.” Hope nodded. “So, hop down now and get your coat on.”

  “I s’pose you’ll just have to come back tomorrow to help us, Mr. Noah.” Sydney patted his cheek as he set her feet gently back on the floor. “We can’t decorate the tree without you. We need you, Mr. Noah.”

  “Oh, wow…um...” The child had him all choked up. “I can do that, if it’s okay with your mom.”

  “Is it, Mom?” There was no denying the eagerness in Sydney’s eyes. “Is it okay with you if Mr. Noah comes to have dinner with us again tomorrow…and decorate the tree?”

  “Yes, honey, he certainly can.” Hope smiled through tears that spilled over. “That sounds just about perfect.”

  Chapter 8

  “THIS IS BECOMING A HABIT.” Noah shoveled a spoonful of apple pie into his mouth and then washed it down with a gulp of coffee as he spied the decked-out, twinkling Christmas tree through the kitchen doorway.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Hope’s burnished eyes narrowed with worry as she stirred a dollop of cream into her mug.

  “Not at all.” He smiled to reassure her. “I like spending time here.”

  He liked it a lot, actually. And he’d done it so much lately that a night without Hope’s company and Sydney’s sweet lively chatter seemed empty.

  “I like it, too.”

  “I’ve never done it.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened to cute little oh’s.

  “I mean,” He laughed. “I’ve never decorated a tree with a child. It’s…fun.”

  “And messy,” Hope added, nodding. “Pure chaos.”

  “Like I said…it’s fun.”

  “We stayed under our quota of broken ornaments tonight, though.” She sipped her coffee, her eyes peeking at him over the rim of the cup. “Only two. I think that’s a record—for the good, of course.”

  “You have quite a sense of humor.” Noah finished off his pie and drained his coffee cup. “I like it.”

  She locked gazes with him, smirking. “Some people call me a smarty pants.”

  “You’re that, too.” He pushed his plate back and wiped crumbs from his mouth. The sweet taste of cinnamon mingled on his lips. “But I find it endearing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s so…you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

  “Oh, believe me, it is.” He leaned in and skimmed a knuckle across Hope’s cheek as lowered his voice. In the living room, Sydney snuggled in the warm glow of the Christmas tree, watching a movie. “Hope, you’re the first woman—the only woman—I’ve wanted to kiss since—”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good thing, either, Noah.” A hint of regret laced her voice.

  “Why not?”

  “I told you…my life is full of detours.” Hope shifted in her seat, putting a measure of distance between them. “I don’t know what’s going to happen today, let alone tomorrow.”

  “Do any of us really know what’s planned?” He took her hand. “Sometimes detours can turn out to be a good thing.”

  She shook her head. “Not in my experience.”

  “You don’t feel that way about Sydney, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But you didn’t plan for her.”

  “No, I didn’t. But I wouldn’t change a thing, Noah. Truly.”

  “So, sometimes detours can be turned into blessings, right?”

  “Now, how can I argue with that?” She crumpled her napkin and tossed it onto her empty plate. “You seem so sure…”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve learned to trust a Higher Power. He gives me the courage to live and the hope to laugh even though sometimes—most of the time— life’s a mystery that I just don’t understand.”

  “So, why complicate things further?”

  “Because I feel something for you—something that grows stronger with each passing day. But after what happened before…well, you’re not the only one around here who questions their heart.”

  She leaned toward him and took his hand. Her delicate fingers twined with his. “What happened, Noah, with your…wife?”

  His response was simple and to the point. “I failed her.”

  “How?”

  “I couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted most.”

  “And what was that?”

  “A child.”

  The room fell silent, as if
all of the air was sucked out. When Hope spoke again, her voice was laden with concern. “Oh, Noah…”

  “I contracted a case of the mumps, when I was fourteen,” he continued, his voice strained. “The doctors said there was a chance it would…impede…But who thinks of that kind of thing when they’re only fourteen? I never imagined—I just didn’t know the ramifications until it was too late.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I can’t blame her. She had a dream of having a family, and I just couldn’t make that dream come true—for either of us.”

  “What about adoption?”

  “She didn’t hang around long enough to discuss it.”

  “That’s…I’m just so sorry.” Hope leaned closer and gently squeezed his hand. “Do you want children?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “It’s just a question.”

  His eyes searched hers. He wondered what she was thinking, though her expression proved a blank slate. “Yes, of course I’d like to have children. Spending time with you and Sydney has made me realize just how much I’m missing.” His gut tied in knots. “But it’s impossible now.”

  Hope tucked her feet beneath her as she settled on the couch. The warm glow of Christmas lights brought Noah to mind. She wondered what he was doing, bundled into his house merely two doors down. The windows were dark; maybe he’d gone to bed. Her heart ached for him, and she struggled to wrap her mind around the paradox—one man who desperately wanted a child couldn’t have one, while another man blessed with the same gift had no desire to receive it. Where was the fairness in that?

  “Mom, I can’t sleep.” Sydney padded into the room, her flannel nightgown billowing around her tiny, bare feet.

  “Bad dream?”

  “I don’t remember.” She rubbed her sleepy eyes. “I just woke up.”

  “Come here.” Hope gathered her daughter into her lap and covered them both with a faded quilt that was draped over the arm of the couch. “Maybe the wind woke you. Another storm is blowing in.”

  “Is it snowing again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does it always snow so much here?”

  “No. The weather is usually pretty moderate in December in East Tennessee. But this year is a fluke.”

  “What’s a fluke?”

  “Something out of the ordinary.”

  “Like finding a good luck penny when you’re walkin’ down the street?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Mama Cantori keeps a jar of pennies. She lets me play with them sometimes. She calls them her blessing pennies.” Sydney tilted her head to gaze up at Hope. “She said the day you came to live with her was the best blessing of her life.”

  “Is that so?” Hope’s voice caught.

  “Yep.” Sydney’s head bobbed. “Why, Mom? Why did you come to live with her? What happened to your mommy and daddy?”

  “I don’t know for sure.” Vague memories tugged at the corners of her mind, most likely remnants of photos Mama had shared with her over the years. “I was just a baby when I last saw them.”

  “Do you ever wonder?”

  “I used to, but Mama Cantori loved me so much that after a while, it squeezed out all the wondering.”

  “And Mr. Cantori, too?”

  “Yes. He loves me and he loves you, too.”

  “What happened to my daddy?”

  “He’s in heaven, honey. He died when you were very young.”

  “Do you think he knows me?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Mr. Noah’s nice, Mom.” Sydney closed her eyes, and for a moment Hope thought the child had fallen back to sleep. But then her soft, sleepy voice drifted. “He’d be a good daddy.”

  “I…” Hope struggled to find the words as she gathered the child closer. “Yes, honey, I believe he would.”

  Chapter 9

  “BE CAREFUL ON THAT LADDER.” Noah said as he passed by, carrying a resin lamb for the manger scene. “Would you like me to hang that?”

  “I’ve got it.” Hope tacked the airbrushed sheet to the corner of the wall of the fellowship hall. The effect, when it was stuffed with foam and draped, was a billowy cloud—just as she’d planned. “Can you smooth it out a bit and tack that lower edge?”

  “Sure.” Noah set down the sheep and brushed a hand over the crisp fabric. Then he used a tiny nail to tack the hem. “Better?”

  “Tons.” Hope stepped down and turned to survey her work. “It’ll make do, don’t you think?”

  “I think it’s great.” He stood beside her, reaching for her hand. Their fingers laced together as if it was the most natural gesture. It felt…really, really good. “The pageant’s turning out better than I imagined. The parents are going to love it.”

  “Parents love anything their kids star in.”

  “Maybe so, but this year just seems more special.”

  “I feel it, too.” The room was filled with props the parents had helped provide, and they’d all been more than generous in welcoming Hope, as well. They entire congregation had gone out of their way to make her feel at home, and she was thankful for the gracious hospitality. But Hope was sure that wasn’t what Noah meant. It had more to do with the two of them…with the feelings that were beginning to blossom like the crimson leaves on poinsettia plants that filled the sanctuary. “Christmas is always special, but this year...”

  “It’s you…us.” Noah gathered her close. “It just makes everything better, doesn’t it?”

  Hope relaxed against him, breathing in the clean scent of his aftershave that mingled with glitter paint and glue. Spending so many hours working on the pageant had brought them much closer. Hope discussed things with him that she’d never breached with anyone else—even Mama. “Yes.”

  “Speaking of special…” He twined a strand of her hair around his finger. “Did you find that doll that Sydney keeps talking about?”

  “Tammy Teardrops—the one that cries for you to feed her?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I’ve tried. Apparently, the toy is on every little girl’s wish-list, though. I’ve been to every store in town, and it’s sold out wherever I go.”

  “I’ll help you look,” Noah offered, brushing her forehead with a kiss. “There must be one somewhere.”

  “I sure hope so.” Hope sighed, wishing he’d capture her lips, as well. They had yet to share a real kiss, and she wondered if one would ever come. “Or I’ll have a lot of explaining to do come Christmas morning.”

  “It’ll work out.” Noah squeezed her shoulder and stepped back, releasing her. “Trust me.”

  “I do.” Hope turned and began to cap an assortment of spray paint cans. “And that gives me a measure of much-needed comfort.”

  “I’m glad for that.” Noah switched off the overhead lights. A soft glow came from the hallway. “Now, it’s getting late, and you’ve been up since dawn to work the breakfast shift. We can finish this tomorrow.”

  “But we have our first dress rehearsal tomorrow.” Hope rolled her shoulders, chasing away the fatigue that had settled in. “And there are still costumes to prepare.”

  “No worries. I’ll pick you up from work, and we can ride over early before rehearsal starts. I’ll help you sew.”

  “Now, that’s a vision.” Hope giggled.

  “What, you think I can’t sew?”

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just, your hands are so big and the needle so…delicate.”

  His gaze captured hers. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “I can be gentle when the need arises.”

  The words, his tender tone, stirred a longing deep within her. She knew he could be ever-so-gentle. She’d felt it in his touch— when he held her hand and stroked tears from her cheek. “You’re right.”

  “So, we’ll come early?”

  “But Sydney—”

  “Mrs. Cantori can drop her off when the rehearsal begins. She’s providing tomorrow’s snack for the children, so she’ll ha
ve to come by any way.”

  “Right again. Good thinking.” Hope surveyed a table full of costumes. Each still had to be sorted and matched with a child. “It will give us time to put finishing touches on the costumes—and the props.”

  “It’s settled, then.” He dropped the hammer into the tool box and handed Hope her coat. “How about we stop by the diner on the way home for a cup of coffee and a slice of Sam’s famous pecan pie?”

  “Yum. I can’t pass up a piece of pie…especially when I’m sharing it with you.” Hope checked her watch and noted that an hour remained before Sydney’s bedtime. Mama Cantori wouldn’t mind if she was a bit later than expected—especially if that time was spent with Noah. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

  The diner was quiet, the dinner hour long over as Noah settled into the booth across from Hope.

  “Back so soon?” Sam kidded as he came over to fill their coffee mugs and offer up two slices of pie. “Didn’t you just work the breakfast shift?”

  “Sure did, But I’ve missed you, Sam.” Hope winked at him, reminding Noah once more of one of the reasons he found her so appealing. Her keen sense of humor added a touch of brightness to each day. “But even more, I missed your pecan pie,” she added.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re back because I forgot to give you this when you left this morning.” He delved into the pocket of his white cotton apron, drawing out an envelope. “It’s your Christmas bonus.”

  “Bonus?” Hope took the envelope. “But you never mentioned…”

  “I’m getting old, and I forget things sometimes.” It was his turn to wink. “Besides, I’m the boss of this place so I can do whatever I want.”

  “Yes, I suppose you can.”

  “Christmas is only a week away. Buy a surprise for that sweet girl of yours, and something nice for yourself, too.”

  “Thank you. I will.” Tears stung Hope’s eyes as she tucked the envelope into her purse. “Thank you so very much, Sam.”

  “Oh, one other thing…I got a phone call today, too, from my friend Jack Wyatt, dean of the Miracle Cove Community College. Seems he’s in need of an art teacher, and he was checking your references.” He wiped his hands on the apron and tucked a pencil behind one ear. “I told him you’re the best employee I’ve ever had.”