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"We're just watching TV. School was closed today 'cause of the snow. Isn't that cool?"
"Very cool." The little girl pulled the door open wide and Cait stepped inside. "I saw all your snow people in the yard."
"Me and Shep played outside all morning. Daddy helped us this afternoon. We made snow angels in the backyard. Wanna see?"
"You're not dressed to go outside...."
"We can see from the family room." She took off running down the hallway, leaving Cait no choice but to follow.
She hadn't seen this room—a small, glassed-in porch on the back of the house that looked over the yard and the garage Ben had converted to his workshop. The furniture was the same comfortable mix found in the rest of the house, with the addition of a big-screen television and all the necessary components.
Ben and Shep both looked away from the screen as Cait stepped into the room. Shep's grin was wide and immediate; Ben's expression was wary, questioning.
He picked up the remote control and the TV sound vanished. "Cait?"
"Hi. I didn't intend to interrupt. Maddie wanted to show me your snow angels."
"See—there they are." Kneeling on one of the couches underneath the windows, the girl pointed through the window. "We made hundreds."
Cait joined her on the couch. "I see. That looks like so much fun. A whole flock of angels in your backyard." She turned to sit on the sofa, looking at Maddie. "In fact, I came to talk to you about angels."
Across the room, the TV clicked off. Shep looked at his father, outrage written on his face. "We'll turn it back
on later," Ben promised. "Right now we want to hear what Miss Caitlyn has to say."
Still sulking, Shep went to a toy box in the corner and rummaged through with a clatter of plastic, finally pulling out a couple of airplanes which he proceeded to land on the coffee table.
Maddie sat up straight, her hands gripped together in her lap. "What did you want to talk about, Miss Caitlyn? I get the main angel part, right?"
Cait took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask—would you like to share that part with Brenna?"
"But—" Maddie's dark eyebrows drew together, and her mouth stayed open in surprise.
Cait looked at Ben, but he only stared back at her, with an expression she didn't find encouraging. Even Shep was gazing at her, his eyes wide. Clearly, he understood what she'd said and the implications.
"There's only one angel," Maddie said. "That's what the story says. That's the way the pageant goes."
• 'I thought we might do something a little different this year. I've written a song—"
"I want to be the angel." Standing, now, the little girl's dark eyes were stormy. "It's my turn."
"Madeline—" Ben's voice was stern.
1 'I thought you and Brenna could sing the part of the announcing angel together." When Maddie didn't immediately erupt, Cait hurried on. "Singing for the first time in front of people can be pretty scary. But you both have nice voices, and I thought it would be a good chance for you to get used to singing without the choir."
Maddie stood still for a minute, her face stiff, her fists clenched. "I'm the angel," she said finally, then turned and ran out of the room. Footsteps pounded on the staircase, then a door slammed upstairs.
Cait put a hand over her face. "I—" When she looked up, both Ben and Shep were still watching her. "I'm sorry. I didn't think she would be so upset."
"Go to your room, Shep." Ben glanced at his son. "I'll call you when I turn on the movie again." Without any protest, silent or otherwise, the little boy trotted down the hall.
Then Ben turned back to her. "You didn't think this out too well, did you?"
She choked back her resentment. "I talked it over with Anna. We both thought it was a good idea."
"You knew how much Maddie was counting on that part."
"She still has the part! What's wrong with sharing?"
"Nothing, in theory. When you're ten, everything." He shook his head. "You should have run the idea by me first. I could have told you it wouldn't fly."
"Again, I'm sorry." Cait stood up. "I hope you can change her mind. We would be really sad if Maddie didn't help us with the pageant." A sudden thought struck her. "And if she doesn't...I guess you would resign your job as well. Or maybe you're already planning to?"
"I didn't volunteer to begin with, so I didn't think I had the option of resigning."
Could the conversation get much more depressing? "Please, feel free. I'm committed, but I really don't intend to torture you or your family with an unpleasant situation." Turning on her heel, she walked as fast as she could toward the front door.
"We'll let you know," Ben said, somehow arriving there at the same time without appearing to hurry. "I don't like backing out on commitments, and I don't like my kids to do so, either."
'Great. Just give us a call." She waited impatiently for
him to turn the knob and let her out. He was too close,
and he smelled like fresh air and snow.
But he didn't move. "I met a friend of yours the other
day—guy in a red Miata. Did he find you?"
She could imagine what kind of impression Russell
must have made on Ben Tremaine. "Yes, he did." "He doesn't know much about driving in snow." "They don't get much snow in Southern California." "Ah. Hollywood. A friend in the business?" Cait didn't flatter herself he really cared. "My agent,
actually, with a couple of good job offers. Now, if you'll
excuse me
» 5
Did you take them?' Ben couldn't believe he was conducting an inquisition. What difference did it make to him whether Cait accepted a job offer or not?
She looked up at him, her face every bit as troubled as Maddie's had been earlier. "I haven't decided yet," she said. "I guess it depends on how things go here."
Meaning if she didn't get her way, she'd pull stakes and go back to the big city? Was she holding him and his daughter hostage—either they helped with the pageant or there wouldn't be one at all?
Ben flipped the knob and swung the door open. "It's always good to have options."
Cait opened her mouth, but in the end just stomped by him, across the porch and down the steps, without a word. He was glad he'd cleared the walk—at her speed, she would have fallen on the snow and ice for sure.
Her car started with a blare of lights and the roar of a gunned engine; she fishtailed a little on the slick street, but slowed down and got safely round the corner.
Ben let out a breath and shut the door. Rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a headache growing behind his
eyes, he climbed the stairs, wondering how hard it would be to convince his little girl to do the right thing.
Tuesday morning, Harry dropped by the church. One glance at the minister's face conveyed the results of his investigation.
"You didn't find the money?"
David shook his head. "Anna remembered getting the check, too, but not the deposit. I called Timothy and asked him. He said he hadn't seen the check at all."
Bad news. If David, Anna and Timothy were the only people to make the deposits, then one of them had stamped that check and taken it to the bank. Which meant one of them was lying.
Or, at best, criminally negligent. Losing ten thousand dollars was a real problem for a church this size.
'T didn't tell them that the money was missing," David said. "No sense alarming people until we know there's a real problem."
Eyes wide, Harry stared at him. "I think ten thousand missing dollars qualifies as a problem, Pastor."
"I'll keep looking," the younger man promised. He swiped his fingers over his forehead. "I'm sure there's a simple explanation."
Harry was sure of that, as well. He was afraid, though, that the explanation would result in a major disaster. David and Anna had been taken into the very heart of the community and the church—looked upon almost as a son and
daughter by the older folks, idolized by the younger set. Timothy was a popular and respected member of the city council, a source of wisdom and support for the congregation. A mistake—a deception—of this magnitude, by one or more of those three people, would devastate the spirit of the entire community.
How would anyone in town be able to celebrate Christmas with this crisis hanging over their heads?
The children behaved better at the next rehearsal. Partly, perhaps, because of Ben's warnings and partly because of the presence of several mothers in the pews. But mostly, Cait thought, because she stood in front of them holding a notebook labeled Casting Assignments.
"Okay," Cait said, opening the book. "I talked a long time with Miss Anna about past pageants and what we could do to make this year special. We think every part in this program is as important as every other part. So whether you're a shepherd or sheep, an angel or a wise man or a donkey, we need you all and count on you to do your very best."
She drew a deep breath and began to read through the list. The five older boys who would be shepherds gathered on her left, along with some of the youngest, who would be sheep. The innkeeper sat in the middle of the top step with more of the little ones—the cows and donkeys and doves. On her right, three of the boys who sang particularly well gathered as wise men, with a servant for each. Shep had been included as one of the servants.
"The rest of you are angels." As Cait looked at them, the group of girls on the bottom two steps giggled and squirmed. This was the point at which Maddie would have asked, "Who's going to be the main angel?"
But Maddie and Shep hadn't come to practice.
Swallowing her disappointment, Cait forged ahead. "I've written a song for the announcing angel, but right now we'll all learn it." If Maddie refused to participate, someone else would have to sing with Brenna, who wouldn't be strong enough to carry the part on her own.
Maybe they'd end up with three or four announcing angels.
The rest of the crowd buzzed with conversation as the kids started taking on their roles-—the cows were butting heads, a couple of donkeys were kicking up their back heels and the shepherds were trying to drive the sheep under the communion table.
Cait held up her hands to quiet the chaos. "What we're going to do right now is have each group meet with the mom in charge of their costumes, to get sizes written down. Then we'll come back together to practice the music."
The mothers stepped in to take charge before any of the children could misbehave. Karen Patterson and another mother came over to talk to the angels about their robes and wings and halos.
Knowing what parts they were to play made the kids more cooperative in learning and practicing the different songs, and the rehearsal went smoothly. As the end of practice approached, Cait got out her guitar and sat on the steps in the middle of the choir. ' 'This is the announcing angel song." She strummed the chords of the tune she'd played for Ben. "Let's all learn it."
O, fear not,
Be not afraid.
I bring good news to you this day.
At Bethlehem,
A child they've laid
In the manger.
Wrapped with a cloth,
He sleeps alone.
But all the world will praise his name.
For love and peace
He will be known From the manger.
The last notes died away into silence. Surprised, Cait looked around to find all the children staring at her, their eyes wide and shining.
"Oh, Miss Caitlyn," Brenna said softly. "You wrote that for us?"
Tears started in her eyes. Cait blinked. "Sure. Do you want to sing it with me?''
Three times through taught them all the words and the tune. They sang it twice more, along with the mothers still waiting, just because everyone enjoyed it.
Then Cait stood up. "Time for dinner. And you guys go back to school tomorrow. I'll see you on Sunday."
The departing process was loud, as usual, and it seemed that everyone had to stop and talk with her about the schedule, the costumes, the song. Cait was finally free to put the music folders away in a blessed silence when she heard a single set of footsteps approaching from the back of the church. She turned quickly, hoping it might be Ben.
But David joined her. "That really is a great song. You've got an amazing talent, Sister Cait."
"Thanks." She smiled and closed the top on the box of folders. "What shall we eat tonight? Canned stew or canned soup?" I
He laughed and groaned at the same time. "Such tempting choices." But he sobered again almost immediately. "How do you think Anna's doing?" 1
"She was okay when I left the house two hours ago."
David avoided her gaze. "No, I mean...emotionally."
"Well, she's worried, and I guess she's pretty frustrated, having to lie in bed all the time. But you're her husband. How do you think she feels?"
L
Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "I—I don't know."
"Have you asked?"
"I—" He shook his head and turned away from Cait. "Never mind. I shouldn't involve you."
She grabbed his arm and held on against his resistance. "That's probably true. But you have. So what's wrong?"
"I just..." He cleared his throat. "She wants me to stay with her all the time. And I can't—I mean, I have responsibilities to the members of the church and sermons to write, and she was doing the secretarial work until she got...until the baby, so now I'm doing all of that, as well. There's just not time to sit and—and talk. But I don't think Anna understands. I hate to make her unhappy but— but I can't be everything to everybody."
Cait pushed aside the anger that was her first reaction to David's comments. She wouldn't have expected the man who loved her sister to be so self-absorbed. Anna was having his baby, for heaven's sake, under life-threatening circumstances. And he was worried about his job?
Because Anna would want it, though, she stifled her objections. "I think it's a tough time for both of you, David. When the baby comes, everyone will feel better. Until then, I think Anna knows you have responsibilities—she doesn't want all of your time. Just some reassurance that things will be okay. I know you can do that." She smiled at him, expecting a smile in return, and his agreement that he certainly could do that.
Instead, David stared at her in silence, his expression blank. "I'm not so sure," he said, finally. Then he turned on his heel and strode toward the church door.
"What are you talking about? Why not?" Cait started after him. "David? David!"
She reached the outside door just as his car screeched out of the parking lot.
"What's wrong with you?" she shouted after him. The windy, bitterly cold night didn't answer. Cait closed the door and leaned back against it, staring down the aisle to the front of the dim church and the arched window in the eastern wall.
Just outside that window, though she couldn't see it tonight in the dark, an old dogwood tree stood bare, its gray branches exposed and shivering, its remaining red berries easy picking for the birds. Not exactly a symbol of the joy, the goodwill of the coming season.
But then, with Maddie's disappointment and Ben's stern attitudes, with Anna's fears and David's erratic behavior, Christmas didn't look to be very jolly in Goodwill this year anyway.
In fact, Cait was beginning to believe that only a miracle could turn the next six weeks into a holiday worth remembering.
Ben found himself stymied by Maddie's absolute refusal to consider sharing the angel part with Brenna. No matter what he said, she remained adamant that she alone should play the role. Karen Patterson had called when Brenna came home from school in tears because Maddie wouldn't talk to her; trying to explain Maddie's unjustifiable attitude stretched Ben's patience to the limit. Karen assured him she understood, but the reserve in her voice said otherwise. And Ben sympathized. Why shouldn't she have the chance to enjoy watching her daughter in the spotlight, too?
On Friday night, he decided
to consult a greater source of wisdom. While the kids played Parcheesi with Harry, Ben wandered into the kitchen.
"Smells good." He straddled a kitchen chair. "Your chicken casserole is worth starving a whole day for."
Peggy smiled. "You haven't eaten today?"
"I had some cereal with the kids before school. Then I got busy." No need to explain that any time he took his mind off work, thoughts of Cait Gregory distracted him from any other meaningful topic. Even Maddie. "I wanted to ask your advice about a problem we're having."
"What's that?"
He described Cait's visit, and Maddie's reaction. "I can't convince her to share the part. And I can't order her not to participate. The whole situation is completely screwed up—I may not have much experience with the Christmas spirit, but I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to work like this."
"Life rarely works out like the storybooks. Or a Clement Moore poem." Ben had a feeling she was talking about more than Maddie's program. But Peggy was busy again—she checked a couple of pans, turned down the heat on both, and went to the refrigerator to take out vegetables for salad.
"Can I help?" Salad was one dish he knew he wouldn't ruin.
But she shook her head. ' 'I think better with my hands occupied. What does Maddie say? Anything at all?"
Ben closed his eyes as he thought back to that one devastating sentence. "Last night, I tried to talk to her with the light off—maybe if she didn't have to face me she might let her guard down, you know?"
Peggy nodded. I "Just as she was falling asleep, she said, 'Brenna has a mommy.'"
"Oh, Ben." With her back to him, Peggy set down the lettuce and bowed her head.
He got up and crossed the room to put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you with this."
"No. That's not true." She faced him, her blue eyes bright with tears. "I want to know what Maddie feels about losing her mother. Valerie would want us to take care of her, to comfort her."
"Yeah, but how can I do that at Brenna's expense?"
"Maddie also has to realize that she can't use the loss of her mother to get her way every time."
Ben couldn't reply for a minute. "True," he said when he had his voice under control. "So how do we manage this?"
Shenandoah Christmas Page 10