A Hickory Ridge Christmas

by Corbit, Dana

  “Oh, Hannah, we’re glad you’re here.”

  The greeting came from Deacon Littleton, but Hannah couldn’t help glancing at her father instead. Reverend Bob had folded his hands in a prayerful pose, but his eyes were open. Though his glasses had slipped down his nose, he made no effort to push them back in place. How old and pale he looked, as though he’d battled the world and lost.

  Her pulse raced, and it was all she could do not to rush to her father and demand to know what was wrong.

  “Hannah,” Deacon Littleton said to draw her attention back to the center of the table.

  “What’s going on?”

  The head deacon glanced around the room before he spoke. “Do you remember the bookkeeping problem I mentioned to you a few weeks ago? Well, my mistake didn’t turn out to be a mistake.”

  “I don’t understand.” Thoughts rushed at her in a hailstorm that allowed no time for weighing conclusions. What did this have to do with her or her father?

  Deacon Littleton gestured toward Milford Police Chief Pete Conyers, who picked up the conversation from him. “Hannah, there appears to be a widespread case of embezzlement involving several of the church accounts, including the building fund for Hickory Ridge’s Family Life Center.”

  She shot another glance at her father, who still stared at his gripped hands. Panic tasted acidic in her mouth. Could her father have— No. She dismissed the thought before it had a chance to fully form.

  “There has to be some mistake.”

  “Unfortunately, there isn’t.” Brett spoke this time, his expression grim. “My gut told me something was wrong. I should have listened…”

  Hannah drew her eyebrows together as another thought struck her. “You don’t think I—”

  Andrew came to his feet, shaking his head to stop the direction of her question. “No, Hannah, we don’t. Look, we’re not making ourselves clear. We’ve asked you here for two reasons—your familiarity with the church accounts and your acquaintance with Olivia Wells.”

  “Olivia?”

  “Also known as Olivia Wilson, Olivia Wilder and Olivia Whiting,” Chief Conyers said, looking up from the spiral-bound notebook in his hands.

  “Are you serious? What kind of money are we talking about?”

  Deacon Littleton glanced down at the printed list of figures in front of him. “As close as I’ve been able to tally it so far, about twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  Hannah blinked. To some families in the wealthy suburbs of Detroit, a figure like that was a nice bonus after a healthy sales season, but to a small church, where every dollar had to be stretched to keep the black columns from becoming red, it was a fortune.

  “She is also wanted for questioning in connection with embezzlement cases at the Presbyterian church in Brighton, a Methodist one in Okemos and a tiny Baptist congregation in Dansville,” Chief Conyers continued.

  “I knew she looked familiar that first time I saw her at Bible study,” Brett said, shaking his head. “But I just couldn’t connect the sweet lady at church with the police sketch on the bulletin board I passed every day at the Brighton Post.”

  Andrew lowered into his seat next to Reverend Bob. “Come on, Brett, give yourself a break. She fooled us all.”

  Several of them glanced at Reverend Bob then, but if he noticed at all, he didn’t give any sign of it. He was the one who had been fooled most of all, and Hannah wished with all her heart she could take away her father’s pain.

  Brett, clearly in his role as Trooper Lancaster now, stood and paced the room.

  “Hannah, when is the last time you saw Olivia Wells?”

  “Uh, it must have been at church yesterday.” She thought for several seconds. Come to think of it, Olivia hadn’t been there. If she’d noticed it at the time, she would have thought it odd. Olivia had become one of the most regular attendees in the last several months. “No, that isn’t right. I think it was a week ago Sunday.”

  Brett cleared his throat. “And what about you, Reverend?”

  The minister started at being addressed directly. “I’m sorry. What did you ask?”

  “When is the last time you saw Olivia Wells?”

  “At church on January eighth. She said she would be away a few days visiting some extended family.”

  Brett wrote something down in his notebook. “Did she happen to mention where these family members lived?”

  “Outside Lansing, I think, but that could mean anywhere, couldn’t it?”

  “Yes, it could, but it could also mean that Olivia hasn’t skipped the state yet.”

  “And that she really might be from Michigan,” the police chief chimed in. “The suspect certainly tried to stay close to home while committing her alleged crimes. All the embezzlement cases occurred within a fifty-mile radius. We’ll check the NCIC database—that’s the National Crime Information Center—and see if we come up with any hits.”

  Andrew, who had stepped to the rear of the room to refill his foam coffee cup, turned back to the rest of them. “That one’s simple. She took a chance that leaders of the different churches in the region didn’t hang out together and share notes, and she was right.”

  All those in the room nodded and murmured over that, probably feeling by varying degrees guilt over the lack of ecumenical fellowship that had allowed someone to continue these crimes for so long.

  There would be more questions to follow: how much they knew about Olivia Wells outside church, where she lived and who else resided with her, what she did during her off-hours from the church office. The last question turned back to the man who had remained strangely quiet throughout the meeting.

  “Bob, you will make yourself available for further questioning, won’t you?”

  Reverend Bob nodded to Chief Conyers but didn’t meet his gaze. The whole situation struck Hannah as terribly unfair. Olivia had been the first woman her father had taken any interest in since her mother’s death. How cruel she had to be to take advantage of struggling churches and a man who’d done nothing but give of himself to those who needed him.

  When the meeting was finally over and most of the others had filed from the room, Hannah turned back to her father, who sat staring out one of the room’s two narrow windows. Andrew paused at the doorway and caught Hannah’s attention, but she motioned for him to go ahead without her.

  As she approached her father, he smiled up at her, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I wouldn’t call it my best day.”

  “What would you call it?”

  “A day when I’m glad God is here to catch me.”

  He reached his right arm across his body to rub his left shoulder.

  “Here, let me do that.” She kneaded his shoulders that felt frailer than she remembered. Was it a sign of adulthood to realize her father was just a middle-aged man rather than some larger-than-life hero?

  “Thanks, honey.” He shifted so that her hands fell away from him.

  “This could all be a big misunderstanding, you know.”

  “It could be.”

  But they both knew it probably wasn’t. Olivia’s absence was at the very least suspicious.

  Instead of saying more, Bob glanced at his watch. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?”

  “Is that an excuse not to talk about it anymore?”

  “Possibly.”

  “But you’ll call me if you need anything?”

  “Of course.”

  As reluctant as she was to leave, Hannah crossed to the door she’d entered. Her father returned to gazing out the window or, as she suspected, talking open-eyed to his God.

  From the pulpit and in his home, Reverend Bob had always taught Hannah not to hate, but she was having an awfully hard time following his example. If Olivia Wells was guilty of the crimes they suspected, she’d hurt Hannah’s father in ways beyond his social life. She’d attacked the church community he’d loved and nurtured. She’d struck him right in the hear
t.

  With her arms stretched like an airplane, Rebecca took timid, wobbly steps along a balance beam that rested squarely on the gymnastics center’s padded flooring. Todd willed her on each step as he watched through the window of the viewing area. Her parents cheered when she reached the end and took the six-inch jump to the ground.

  Their little girl beamed, looking like a true gymnast in that sparkly little leotard she’d been begging to wear every day until her gymnastics class began. At least one of them was having fun.

  He glanced sidelong at Hannah, who had pasted on a smile and was giving their daughter the two-thumbs-up.

  “You can tell me what’s wrong now,” he told her.

  “There’s nothing—”

  “And you can stop denying it, too.”

  Hannah opened her mouth and then closed it again. Her shoulders slumped, and she covered her face with her hands, exhausted eyes peeking out between her splayed fingers.

  “There was a problem at church today. It’s a mess, and it involves my dad.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  Dropping her hands, she turned her head to face him. “You knew?”

  “Brett wanted to know the last time I’d seen Olivia. He filled me in on the details.”

  “If you knew what was wrong, then why have you been pressing me from the moment you picked us up?” She straightened in her seat and turned back to stare through the window into the gym.

  “I wanted to hear it from you. We’ve seen each other every day since New Year’s, and we talk on the phone at least once a day while we’re not together. With something as important as this, you might have called.”

  If she’d noticed the annoyance in his voice, Hannah pretended she hadn’t. “I just didn’t want to bother you at work. I planned to tell you about it tonight.” She pointed to the glass. “Oh, look what Rebecca’s doing now.”

  His jaw tight, Todd turned his head back to look through the window. Their daughter was standing on top of a cube-shaped foam form, while her instructor helped her into the correct position to do a forward roll down the incline of the triangular-shaped form next to it. With assistance, she managed the move on the first try.

  Rebecca lifted both arms in the air, having mastered a gymnast’s “ta-da” bow just as easily. Again, her parents clapped, presenting the perfect, happy fan club.

  As soon as they stopped applauding, Todd leaned in close to Hannah. “You know I would have come.”

  “I know. That’s why I didn’t ask.”

  Couldn’t she understand that it was exactly why she should have asked? Need me, he wanted to shout, and yet he hated how pitiful that sounded. Hannah’s family was in crisis. She had enough to worry about without having to balance on eggshells not to hurt his feelings.

  “How’s your father doing?”

  “Probably better than I would be in the same situation.” She paused to glance at Rebecca, who was taking her turn swinging on the thick rope that dangled from the ceiling, before she turned back to him.

  “For Dad’s sake, I hope this turns out to be a mistake. If it’s true, if Olivia really did this to him and our church, I pray that she’s arrested and convicted.”

  “I hope your dad isn’t hurt by the scandal. He helped Olivia get her job, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did,” she said, her hands coming up to rub her temples. “I don’t know what Dad and I will do if…” She let her words trail away as if she couldn’t bear to complete the thought.

  “You mean what we will do, as in all of us, right?” Todd didn’t realize how harsh his comment sounded until she drew her eyebrows together and stared at him.

  “What?” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Oh. Right. That’s what I meant.”

  “Of course.”

  Hannah turned her attention back to the class, but Todd couldn’t stop replaying the conversation in his mind. She planned to tell him about it, but he wasn’t invited to get involved. Maybe her comment wouldn’t have bothered him so much if distance weren’t so endemic to their relationship. He was allowed to spend time with Hannah and Rebecca as long as he stayed at arm’s length. He could love them as long as he didn’t get close enough to hurt them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hannah frowned at Todd’s profile as they went through Rebecca’s bedtime routine two hours later. He’d been brooding all night, through the ride home from gymnastics, their daughter’s bath and her bedtime prayers. Hannah had tolerated his moodiness at first, but now she’d reached her limit.

  She dropped a kiss on Rebecca’s brow, tucking the blankets under her chin. “Sweet dreams, honey.”

  On the other side of the bed, Todd snuggled up to his daughter, cheek to cheek. “Sleep tight, Becca.”

  Their last smiles of the night were for their daughter as they shut off the light. As soon as they closed the bedroom door, Hannah tugged on Todd’s arm, directing him toward the kitchen. Once inside it, she pulled the pocket door closed and whirled on him.

  “What in the world is the matter with you?”

  “Were you really going to tell me about it tonight?” He slumped into the seat at the kitchen table where he’d hung his coat earlier and stared up at her, accusation in his eyes.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You would tell me, but you never had any intention of letting me help you or your dad.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath, dropping into the seat across from him. Usually, she would have sat next to him so he could reach for her hand, but she wasn’t in the mood to be touched. She could tell by the way he studied her chair that her move hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “It’s not that big a deal. We didn’t need—”

  “That’s right. You don’t need me or want to need me. That would be too much risk for you.”

  Hannah blinked, startled by his accusation. “I don’t understand you. Don’t you think I have enough to worry about right now without you bringing this up?”

  His gaze narrowed, making him look far angrier than he should have been for something as trivial as her neglecting to call him after the meeting at church.

  “When do you suggest I bring it up?”

  “Sometime when my family isn’t in an uproar.”

  “Your family? Your family?” His voice had climbed an octave by the second time he said it. “You’re my family. Can’t you see that?”

  She shook her head, exasperated. “Of course I see that.”

  “Then would you finally let me in?”

  It was Hannah’s turn to be angry. “Let you in? That’s all I’ve been doing since you came back here. First, into my house, then into our lives and into my heart. What more do you want?”

  “Ever since I came back, you’ve been holding me just out of reach. The thing at church today is just the symptom of a larger issue. It’s just like before, when you were pregnant. You wouldn’t let me help then, and you won’t let me now.”

  “This situation isn’t anything like before. It isn’t really even about me.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No. And besides, I haven’t been holding anything back from you. I even told you that I love you.” She heard the sharp, accusatory tone in her voice, but she couldn’t help herself. Didn’t he realize how much that admission had cost her?

  “But you don’t trust me.”

  She opened her mouth to dispute his words, but he raised a hand to stop her.

  “Sure, you trust me to show up for dinner on Friday and not to be late when I have plans with Rebecca, but when it comes to your hopes and your fears, you’re not willing to let yourself fall into my arms. You’re afraid I won’t catch you.” He gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “You don’t trust me at all.”

  “Can you blame me? You left!” she shrieked. “I’ll probably never be able to trust you completely.”

  The second the words were out of her mouth, Hannah was sorry she’d spoken them, even sorrier that she’d ever thought them. But she couldn’t
take them back now that the words hung between them, heavy and permanent. Worse than what she’d said, no wishing could change the fact that she’d spoken the truth. He would have to understand that, but they could find a way to work past it, couldn’t they?

  Todd flinched as if she’d struck him with her hand rather than her words. The wound, she surmised, would have been less grievous if she’d just hit him.

  Planting his elbows on the table, he leaned his head against his folded hands and squeezed his eyes shut. He stayed that way for what felt like an eternity. Though a few minutes before she’d avoided touching him, she longed to reach across the table, squeeze his hands between both of hers and tell him they would find a way to make everything all right. They had to.

  Only when he looked up at her again, pain and resignation so clear in his eyes, did she begin to realize what she’d lost.

  He shook his head, a self-deprecating laugh emanating from deep in his chest. “I had all these great ideas when I came here. I would win you back, and we would begin the life together that I had imagined before you’d even realized we were more than friends.”

  Hannah drew in a sharp breath. “We can still have all that…in time. That doesn’t have to change.”

  He lifted his gaze to meet hers but only briefly before he reached back for the coat hanging on the chair behind him. Out of the pocket, he produced a satiny white box. “I’ve been carrying this ridiculous ring around in my pocket since before New Year’s.”

  Turning it toward her, he popped open the box, revealing a sparkling marquise solitaire diamond. Hannah coughed, swallowing the sob that scaled her throat with angry claws. He stared at the ring, the fluorescent kitchen light fluttering over its facets, before he snapped the box shut and stowed it in his pocket.

  Todd smiled, perhaps at a pleasant memory, though certainly not at her. “I even had it with me during that New Year’s Eve service at church. I knew it was too soon, but I had to buy it anyway. It was this silly, romantic notion that I’d be beginning the new year with our future all planned out.”

  Without looking at her, he continued, perhaps as much to himself as her. “That night, I was so tempted to slip off the pew and propose right then and there in the candlelight. The only thing that stopped me was this sense that God was telling me to wait.”