Or she could choose the hardest way of all and try to embrace the music and the man and the kids, somehow build a life that transcended the obstacles and accommodated the inconveniences.
But Cait wasn't sure she had the fortitude for that effort. When it came to making plans and setting goals, she hadn't thought about anybody but herself for a long time. The fiasco with Maddie's program and then her own concert had demonstrated what kind of conflict could arise over small issues. What if she was considering a two-month concert tour, and Shep's birthday fell right in the
middle? With Russell pressuring her, would she be strong enough to put off the tour to be with her son?
Assuming, of course, that Russell would still be her agent. If she decided to get married, he might very well decide not to represent her anymore. And he might make good on his promise that she'd never work again. In that case, the choice would be...Ben or the music.
Fortunately, she didn't have to decide this afternoon. The run-through of the pageant from start to finish had plenty of rough spots, enough uncertainty that everybody's adrenalin would be flowing when the time arrived.
Ben came up to her as the children were taking off their costumes for the last time. "This isn't the most romantic invitation you've ever received, but...would you like to come home with us? We've got movies to watch, and Peggy gave me a huge container of her world-famous chili this morning. You haven't had even a piece of pizza. Maddie and Shep would really like to spend the time with you." He gave her a half smile. "So would I."
It was such a simple suggestion—but a dangerous one. Every minute she spent with Ben and his children strengthened her bond with them. But what if she didn't stay? Wouldn't more time together make leaving that much harder?
"It sounds wonderful," she told him earnestly. "But...I think I'd better not." She prayed he wouldn't want a reason.
"Why?" His question sounded almost harsh in the quiet church. Most of the moms and kids had left, the costumes had been cleared away. Maddie and Shep were helping Anna stack the music folders.
"Because—" Cait shook her head "—because we need to be careful. As you said a long time ago, there's
no sense in getting more involved if—if it's not going to last."
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Does that mean what it sounds like?"
Maddie and Shep came running back into the chancel and flung themselves at Ben, arms around his waist. "Let's go, Daddy. Let's go."
Now was not the time to explain. "I...we'11 talk later, J okay?"
He shrugged, his face shuttered. "Sure. Later. C'mon, kids. We've got movies to watch." Shep waved and Mad-die called out "Goodbye" as they followed their dad down the aisle. Ben didn't speak or glance back.
Cait wondered sadly if, by refusing his invitation, she had just made her choice.
The church committee met on the Sunday before Christmas, but the atmosphere was far from festive. Re-gina Thorne wore her most severe teacher's frown. David Remington was obviously nervous, to the point of looking guilty. Harry had come to the conclusion, working as closely with the minister as he had these past few weeks, that the boy didn't have enough guile to embezzle ten cents, let alone ten thousand dollars. The money was simply lost. Now they had to figure out what to do about it.
Fifteen minutes after the time set for the meeting, Timothy Bellows still hadn't appeared, and they really couldn't run this meeting without the church treasurer. Harry poured himself a third cup of coffee, watching the seven men and women around the library table glance at each other with questions in their eyes. He was about to pick up a forbidden doughnut when a sudden stillness came over the group. J
Timothy stood in the doorway, in his Sunday suit and
tie. His chin was up, his full lips pressed into a thin line. The committee stared at him for a minute, and Timothy stared back.
"I have come to resign my position," he said stiffly. "I'll also be resigning my church membership." Stepping forward, he reached out and slapped his right palm against the table, then lifted his hand to reveal a crisp, new check. "There's your money. Every cent plus interest, at a higher rate than the bank would give you."
A long silence followed. Finally, Harry found his voice. "Why, Timothy?"
The tall man shrugged. "At first, I didn't even know I had that check. When I came to get the Sunday receipts for deposit that day, Pastor David and Anna were floating about three feet off the floor, hearing about their coming baby. So I just picked up the bag and went to the bank. The check must've fallen out as I was shuffling papers around in the truck. I found it a month or so later, when I was cleaning up."
No one asked the next question. Timothy swallowed hard. "The mortgage on my land had come due. The drought, these last couple of years...y'all probably never knew how deep I was in debt. I tried not to let anybody know, not even Grace. But in one hand I had this bill, and in the other I had this check, already stamped and endorsed. See, I'd taken out a second mortgage for the new irrigation system. So the harvest was looking good, for a change—I knew I'd have the money come October, but I didn't have it in July. This was my third extension, and those bankers up in Winchester weren't giving me another one. So...I borrowed from the church."
He hung his head, pulled in a deep breath. ' T am sorry. If you want to put me in prison, I'll understand. The farm's up for sale starting tomorrow. Gracie knows ev-
erything. She's moving to South Carolina, near her family, right after Christmas. I'll do whatever y'all say is right."
After a minute of absolute stillness, each of the committee members, Harry included, turned to look at their pastor. The outcome rested on his judgment.
David stared down at his hands, clasped on the table in front of him. When he looked up, finally, he smiled. " 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' What season, what celebration, demonstrates that idea better than Christmas?"
He got to his feet. "As far as I'm concerned, Timothy, this issue is in the past. I think I must accept your resignation as treasurer." He glanced around the table and got nods from the committee members. "But if you're leaving town solely because of what's happened, I hope you'll reconsider. You and Grace are a part of our church family. We don't want to lose you." 1
Timothy broke down, then. Harry got him a chair and stood with a hand on the man's shaking shoulder while the room emptied. David came to the end of the table and crouched in front of Timothy. Harry backed toward the door. "I'll leave you two alone." 1
The minister glanced up at him. "Thanks, Harry. For everything." Then he turned back to the man in the chair. "Let's talk, Timothy." J
Harry closed the door to the library and leaned back against it. An unforeseeable answer to all their questions. Who would have thought...? He'd been ready to believe the minister had taken the money. But Timothy? ]
Shaking his head, he straightened up and left the church office, headed for home. David Remington was right. The problem was solved, the situation settled. Time to move
on and deal with the things that really mattered. Life, love... and Christmas.
The phone rang about three in the morning on Christmas Eve. At least that's what Cait thought, given the dimness of the room, until she rolled over to see that the clock read almost 10:00 a.m. She fell back against the pillows, then scooted over to pull the curtain aside, revealing a sky heavy with dark-gray clouds. Delicate tracings of frost feathered across the windowpanes.
Anna knocked on the door. "Cait, the phone's for you."
"Thanks." But she groaned inwardly. If this was Russell, bugging her about getting out to L.A.... No, Russ wouldn't be awake at seven in the morning. "Hello?"
"Miss Caitlyn? This is Leon's mother." The tone of her rich southern accent predicted bad news. "I'm really sorry to tell you this, but Leon woke up with a sore throat and a fever this morning."
Leon was the first wise man. Nothing could happen to Leon. They didn't have anybody else to sing the part.
His mother knew that.
"I just had him at Dr. Hall's office a little while ago and he's positive that Leon's come down with strep throat. I really am sorry—" she drew a deep breath "—but I don't see any way my boy will be able to sing in the pageant tonight.''
posts and displays of holiday scenes in the windows, including some with action figures—carolers who moved their mouths to sing, reindeer whose legs bent and straightened as they pulled the sleigh above the rooftops. From every doorway, Christmas music spilled into the air.
For Ben, the colors seemed almost too bright, the laughter and music too loud. Not unpleasant, but as if he'd spent his life wrapped in a cocoon, seeing only shadows, hearing only echoes, and had just broken free into the real world. This was Christmas. He was beginning to realize some of what he'd been missing.
They ran into Harry coming out of the hardware store. "Hey, there." He put down his sack and picked up Shep while Maddie hugged him around the waist. "It's a cold Christmas Eve, isn't it? Smells like snow, too."
"What are you buying, Grandpa?" Maddie tried to peek into the bag he'd put down.
"It's a secret for your grandmother." Harry put down Shep and picked up the bag. He winked at Ben. "She'll never guess in a million years. See?" He held the bag out for the kids to peer into.
"Skates, Grandpa? You got Grandma skates? Is that what she asked for?"
Harry nodded. "She did. I got us both a pair. Now I need to rush and get them wrapped before she comes home from the grocery. See you all at the pageant!"
He hurried up the street, happier than Ben had seen him in a couple of months. That probably had something to do with his new job. David had called Harry yesterday to offer him the position of church accountant. The pay wasn't much, but money wasn't the issue—except to keep more mistakes from getting into the books, of course.
"Let's go to the bookstore, Daddy." Maddie pulled his hand, and he followed along. As soon as they stepped
inside, "White Christmas'' started to play. "It is going to be a white Christmas," Maddie told Hunter Dixon, the owner. "I'm positive."
Grinning, Hunter toasted her with a mug of warm cider. "I'll second the motion, Miss Maddie. See y'all at the pageant tonight."
They would also see Cait, Ben thought as they walked up the hill on the other side of the Avenue, toward home. He hadn't approached her at church yesterday, and after one long glance, she hadn't looked at him during the service or afterward. Finishing up a couple of Christmas orders had kept him busy for the rest of the day—too busy to call her, he told himself. No doubt she had things she needed to take care of, as well. After all, she was leaving town in a day or two. 1
If he said it often enough, he thought he might possibly get used to the idea. 1
Back at the house, he fixed soup for lunch, carefully avoiding both tomato and chicken noodle in favor of minestrone.
"So what is Santa going to be leaving at our house k tonight?" He was pretty sure he'd completed his Christmas shopping, but it didn't hurt to double check.
"A new bike," Maddie said quickly. "And a Harry Potter watch and some in-line skates and Nancy Drew books." I
"Right." All those items were hidden in the Shepherds' garage. "How about you, Shep? What are you hoping for?"
Looking down at his bowl, Shep said something in a voice too low for Ben to hear.
He leaned forward and put his hand on the sleek blond hair. "I didn't hear you, son. Can you say it again?" j
But Shep shook his head. Ben sat back in his chair,
cautioning himself to be patient. It would take time for Shep to come completely out of his shell.
"A mommy," Maddie said. "He wished for a mommy."
Ben felt his heart thud, then stop. "What does that mean?"
Maddie looked at her brother, who resolutely avoided her eyes. "Well, it's just... he likes Miss Caitlyn a lot. And he thinks it would be neat if she stayed to be our...um...mommy." For once, Maddie turned shy. "Me, too," she said softly.
Me, three. Ben cleared his throat. "I don't think that comes under Santa's control, kids. Miss Caitlyn has a mind of her own."
"But you could ask her, couldn't you? I mean, you like her a lot, right?"
"Yes, Maddie, I do. But I told you a long time ago, she's got a big career. She can't drop it to stay here with us."
"No, but she could come back when she had time. And we could go to her—we could fly to California, or Florida or New York. We'd get to see all those places and have her as our mommy."
A rosy picture, indeed. Ben only wished he could promise to bring that picture to life. "We'll just have to wait and see," he said. When Maddie tried to pursue the topic, he held up a hand. "No, we're not going to talk about it anymore. Right now we're going to clean up the kitchen, and then you guys will take a nap. It's going to be an exciting night. I have to be at the church extra early and you'll be up pretty late. You need some rest first."
Not surprisingly, Maddie complained and Shep pouted wordlessly. Also not surprising, they were both asleep within fifteen minutes.
Which left Ben alone with the silence and his thoughts. He fought the impulse to call Cait for about an hour, then took the phone to the living room, sat down beside the Christmas tree—which leaned to one side, despite Mad-die's and Shep's assistance—and dialed the Remingtons' number. Busy.
He ironed Maddie's angel robe and called again. Busy. Ran a couple of loads of laundry. Still busy. Actually fell into a restless sleep for about twenty minutes. And the Remingtons' number was still busy when he woke up.
Maybe it's a sign. He took a shower and got dressed, then went to wake the kids. The universe telling me to hang up and get on with my life.
He'd done it before, Ben decided. He could do it again.
"Hey, Announcing Angel, it's time to put on your wings." He shook Maddie's shoulder gently, then returned to Shep. "Your master awaits you, oh, servant to the wise man. Wake up!"
The most important people in his life were these two sleepyheads. If they were safe and happy and healthy, he was doing his job pretty darn well. j
So for tonight, at least, he just wouldn't think about how they'd feel when "Miss Caitlyn" said goodbye. i
Cait went to the church about five o'clock, to sit in the quiet for a few minutes and calm her nerves before the pageant. She still didn't know exactly how to handle the missing wise man issue. After spending nearly all day on the phone, she hadn't found a single boy or girl willing to take on the role. The idea of drafting Maddie had occurred to her, but that would leave Brenna singing alone without any warning. Even professionals could choke under that kind of pressure. Which put her back to square one. Who could she draft to be the wise man?
Ben would arrive soon to set up the backdrops. She hoped he would bring Maddie and Shep along—seeing him alone would just be too hard. She'd caught his eye once during the service on Sunday morning, had felt as if she would drown in the longing that swept through her. Given the chance at that moment, she would have agreed to stay with him for the rest of her life.
But then Russ had called on Sunday afternoon with plane flight information and show details. Anna and David came back late from the hospital after a rough afternoon— Christopher had been having some breathing problems. The first glow of having the baby alive and getting well had faded now. Anna was tired of pumping her breasts, of feeding her baby through a tube in his throat, of not being able to hold him. Cait offered what comfort she could, but the truth was that, in the first few weeks, premature babies struggled for their lives. And the people who loved them could only watch and wait and hope.
Why, Cait wondered now, in the silence of the chancel, should she take the risk of facing such pain? Living alone, responsible for no one and to no one but herself, made life so much easier to bear.
One of Barbra Streisand's earliest hits came to mind, a song about how much people need each other. Then there was John Donne's version—"No man is an island." And above all the old, familiar words, "Tidings of great joy which shall be to all peop
le...Peace on Earth."
Hard to argue with such illustrious witnesses.
Behind her, the outside door opened. She heard Mad-die's cheerful tones and gave a sigh of relief. At least something was going right today.
On her feet, she turned to face them. "Merry Christmas, Tremaine family. All ready for the big show?"
Holding two clothes hangers with costumes, Ben
shrugged, sent Cait a half-grin. Maddie flew down the aisle to give her a hug. "What time do we start Miss Caitlyn? It's not snowing yet, but the weatherman promises it will before morning. Do you think it will start during our procession? I think it would be so neat to walk through the snow."
"I think so, too. The program starts in about two hours, so there's still time to get lucky." Shep had sneaked up on her other side and thrown his arms around her waist. Swallowing hard, she hugged both children close, but let go quickly.
"Okay, it's time for me to get to work. Ben, the boys will get dressed in David's office and the girls in the social hall, if you want to put the costumes there. Maddie, we need to put out the candles the congregation will hold and make sure they all have little drip collars."
"Have what?" j
Cait went to robe room and brought back the box of candles. "See? This little paper circle fits over the bottom of the candle, so hot wax doesn't drip on people's hands. Would you get those ready?" |
Maddie settled on a pew, carefully adjusting each candle. Shep had disappeared—to be with his dad, Cait assumed. Ben and a couple of the other men would move the pulpit and chairs that sat on the stage, bring the back- j drop panels in and set them up. I
Meanwhile, Cait carried in a few of the bales of hay Timothy Bellows had left outside the church. The majority would be used for her animal surprise—the part of the pageant none of the children and only a very few adults knew about.
With the hay arranged where the stable would be, she began bringing the props out of the robe room—the manger, Elizabeth and Mary's sewing, the shepherds' crooks.
On her third trip into the little space, she heard the music. Shep was in there somewhere—probably underneath the hanging robes again. And he was singing. Not humming. Singing with words.
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