by Jillian Hart
“I’m beginning to see that.”
Before Dinah could ferret out any personal information—he knew her next question would be to figure out if Debra was married or not. Yeah, he knew his sister meant well, but he had to stop her. “I’ll see you, later.”
“As long as you give me the scoop. I’ll look forward to seeing you again, Debra.”
Jonah took off and relief washed through him when Dinah didn’t call out after them to say something more. Debra looked as if she hadn’t minded the inquisition. Her smile was wide, her cheeks were flushed an attractive pink and her eyes were sparkling.
“You’re having a good time?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m going to sound a little bit like Mia, but this is such a nice event. I love the carolers.”
“They’re part of a group from the church.” Did he dare admit the truth? “I’ve been known to sing with them, when I’ve got the time.”
She shook her head once in a dainty show of disbelief. “You?”
“Yep. You probably thought I couldn’t carry a tune.”
“No.” She surprised him with that answer. A cute little wrinkle eased across her forehead as she narrowed her gaze, as if to get a good look at him. “You have a resonant voice. I’m not surprised at all.”
They’d reached the line around the unlighted Christmas tree. The feeling of anticipation rose in the warm air as it was getting closer to the start of the ceremony. Debra made a beeline toward her daughter, who was only a few kids back from Tony Conlon. The owner of the Gift Emporium looked like he was having a ball dressed up as Santa. He had a little boy on his knee, about four years of age. The kid looked familiar.
But who was he? Jonah couldn’t place him. Then realization hit. That’s right, it was the Matthewses’ little boy. Douglas Matthews was the local big-shot TV-host guy. Jonah couldn’t say he really knew the man, although he, his wife and son attended church every Sunday.
The wife, Lynda, had her digital camcorder focused on her son, while he whispered in Santa’s ear. She was a shy, reserved woman, who kept to herself. There was true love radiating from her as she lowered the recorder and held out her hand to her son. The boy hopped to the ground, clutching his big bag of Christmas candy and politely thanking Santa.
Nice kid. Nice wife. Jonah felt the ache of sorrow for what he could not have. Guilt rolled over him like the crash of noise from the room. Suddenly it was too loud. He was too hot. The crowd crushed around him, although no one had moved closer. Roaring began in his head, the sounds of the night he did not want to remember.
The night he could never let himself forget.
“Hey, Jonah!” He felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Mia, as sweet as spun sugar. The girl was next in line—she’d let Olivia sit on Santa’s knee first. She exuded youthful energy, practically bouncing in place. “I know Santa isn’t real, but I have the best wish ever. It’s what I pray hard for every day. And it’s not selfish, either…Well, it’s sort of a little for me, but it’s mostly for the person I love the most!”
“Your mom?”
Mia bit down on her bottom lip as if to keep the wonderful secret inside. “And it’s for other people, too. It’s my most secret prayer and I know it’s gonna come true.”
Debra was in deep conversation with Leah and Ben, holding chubby baby Joseph in her arms. The sight riveted him and it took all his effort to clear the emotion from his throat. He didn’t sound normal at all as he nodded toward Santa. “Give this cup of cocoa to Olivia, would you? Looks like you’re up next, Miss Mia.”
“Ooh!” The girl took the cup and then hurried to whisper her most secret prayer in Santa’s ear.
Jonah’s heart stopped beating when Debra looked up to watch her daughter. Unguarded, motherly love transformed her. He could see right into her heart, right into her goodness and see the real Debra Watson. All love and devotion, down to the soul.
A woman like that was far too good for the likes of him.
A loud noise shot out, a clatter above the other noises in the crowded ballroom. Like gunfire, the sound of a car backfiring on the street shot him ruthlessly back into the past, into a full-out flashback. The scent of fresh pine in the air turned gritty and dank. The lull of the caroler’s “Silver Bells” faded into the pop-pop of distant gunfire and the bright lights to midnight dark. The flare of rockets shattered the night as they streaked like fireworks over the desert sky. His mind was locked in the past, in Iraq. The cries of help of the wounded civilians caught in the war zone and of his fellow marines rang in his ears. The wind was thick with the coppery scent of blood in the air, on his face, on his hands—
“Good evening, everyone!” the mayor’s smooth, politician voice jerked Jonah back into the present.
He swiped the sweat from his forehead. Gulping hard, he swallowed the taste of guilt and death and a past he could not change. He’d gladly give his life if he could, to make right the senseless wrongs of war.
The flashback was over. Had anyone noticed? He looked around. No, all eyes—Debra’s especially—were turned toward the podium where the ceremony was in full swing. Weak from the experience, he spotted an empty folding chair against the wall and collapsed into it. Billy, one of the youth group kids, hit the switch. The Christmas tree burst into color and light. The crowd’s awe and the children’s glee was joyful music that could not drown out his truth.
Jonah fisted his hands. He had no right to that happiness. For a brief moment, he’d forgotten the past. He had started to live, to enjoy himself and to take part in a life he did not deserve. Not when others more deserving hadn’t been so fortunate. He thought of the team members he’d let down. His throat turned to sand, the light drained from the world and he was where he belonged, alone, in grief and shadow.
He climbed to his feet. No one would notice if he bugged out now. He’d meant to say hello to his parents, but he hadn’t been able to locate them in the crowd. To tell the truth, he’d been too busy thinking of Debra.
Halfway to the door, he felt eyes on his back. He looked over his shoulder. Why wasn’t he surprised to see Debra, turned away from the beauty of the Christmas tree, watching with him gentle concern? She arched one slender brow in a silent question.
He did the right thing—the only thing he could do. He managed what he hoped was a grin, held up his hand as a goodbye gesture and walked through the doors and into the cold night. Guilt clawed at him and the frigid wind and icy snow battered him like punishment.
Hours later, when he was in his apartment, dark with shadows, the guilt still had not relented. It remained like a punishment, sharp and renewed.
When he should have been thinking of his failures to his men, he hated that his mind betrayed him. Instead of taking him back to the war in Iraq, his thoughts led him straight to the image of Debra. To the way she’d stood in front of the glistening Christmas tree, so radiant and good, and the soft questioning way she’d looked at him.
Jonah buried his face in his hands and could not find comfort in the cold, dark night.
Chapter Five
The days that passed had been pleasant ones, Debra reflected as she navigated the SUV along the now-familiar path to Ben’s carpentry shop. All right, they had been more than pleasant, if she were going to be wholly honest with herself.
They had spent fun afternoons with Leah and Olivia and baby Joseph baking Christmas cookies, making Christmas-tree ornaments and luminaries. They’d made dinners in Leah’s cozy kitchen and shared family stories over the dinner table. They’d met Ben’s adopted brother, Eli, and his wife, Rachel, and their sweet baby, Madeleine. Debra and Leah even had a few outings to themselves, while Ben watched the kids, to buy Christmas presents and poke through the Main Street shops.
So many wonderful memories she’d saved up during the past four days, but what image was the one that seemed to stick in her head more brightly than all the rest? The sight of Jonah walking away from the tree-lighting celebration that first night they’d been in town. She could sti
ll see his shoulders straight and strong and yet his head was down, bowed as if by the weight of the world. She’d felt his sadness as surely as if it had been her own.
He didn’t only intrigue her; he’d drawn her heart to his. She couldn’t say how or why, but the truth was talking with him had come so easily that night. That was something she’d hadn’t encountered in a long time. Not on a personal level, anyway.
The question was, why and what was this? Debra tried to keep her thoughts on traffic but the questions just kept coming. Did Jonah feel the same way? Was he interested in her? How could he possibly be interested in a woman with as much baggage as she had?
She could come up with a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t allow herself to hope, but it winked to life within her anyway like a string of twinkle lights on a tree.
“Mom? Hello? Mo-oom! Your phone is buzzing. Again.”
“Would you check the screen and see who it is?”
“Okay, but if it’s your office, it’s Friday afternoon. Af-ter-noon.” Mia emphasized as she dug a hand into the designer hobo. “You’re supposed to be on vacation.”
“Yes, but you know me. Work, work, work.” Debra smiled because she really didn’t mind how hard she worked. But as they cruised past the Christian bookstore, there was something about it that tugged at a long-buried wish. She’d always wanted to own a bookstore from the time she was a little girl. It was the reason why she’d majored in business—so she would be well-equipped to run her own shop. Life hadn’t worked out that way.
It did no good to start wishing for what was impossible now. Wishes were for children, she thought. There was no place in her life for them.
So, why did her thoughts linger on the bookstore and then shift to the carpentry shop and Jonah?
Get a grip, Debra, she told herself. This was not like her. To make matters worse, she was going to see him in a few moments and how was she going to handle this strange, budding emotion toward him?
Play it cool, that’s how, she thought as she pulled into the carpentry shop’s parking lot. She would be sensible, as always. It was best to wait and see.
“It’s a text message from Uncle Brandon.” Mia bubbled with happiness. “Can I read it?”
“We’ll give him a call when we get back to the bed-and-breakfast, how’s that?”
“Even better!” Mia slid the cell back into place. “Oh, I can’t wait to see Jonah. Don’t you think he’s nice, Mom?”
Nice? No, that word seemed inadequate for the man, although she wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone, not even Mia. “He certainly is nice to make an entire bedroom set for you, and right before Christmas, too.”
“That’s not what I meant, Mom.” She flipped a lock of hair behind her shoulder and gave a look that was both sweet and disapproving.
“I know what you meant, kid, and I’m taking the Fifth.” Debra pulled into the first available parking spot. Where did her gaze automatically go to? The window where she had first spotted Jonah. He wasn’t there, but she sighed deep inside as if something in her heart and in her spirit remembered.
Focus, Debra. You’re going to be sensible, right? She cut the engine. “Keep in mind that Jonah is doing you a favor by fitting your furniture into his schedule.”
“He said he had time.”
“Yes, but a carpenter as talented as he is has to be in demand. Go easy on him. Try to keep it simple, okay?”
“Mo-om.” Mia sighed. “I get it. I’m not a little kid, you know.”
“Yes, sweetie. I know. Now, zip your coat before you head out—” the passenger door popped open and Mia was already out in the single-digit windchill “—into the cold.”
Too late. Mia’s door snapped shut and Debra was left alone. Through the icy streaks on the windshield, she saw the reason why Mia had been in such a hurry. The front door was open and there was Jonah, strong and true, looking manly in his long-sleeved shirt and worn jeans.
Debra took her time, gathering her things, making sure she had her keys, bundling up before she stepped out into the elements. And then there was Jonah and suddenly she didn’t notice the cold or the sun in her eyes or the ice beneath her boot treads.
“C’mon, Mom!” Mia hopped down the cleared walkway. “Hurry!”
Jonah’s rich chuckle warmed the air. “I’ve heard it said that beauty never hurries.”
Was he talking about her? Debra didn’t dare read anything into his words—other than the fact that he was good at making compliments. She hitched her purse strap higher on her shoulder as she came closer. “I recognize that line. You read a lot of poetry, do you?”
“I’ve been known to crack a book or two. Comes from my love of the King James version of the Bible.”
“That my favorite, too.” She smiled, liking that about him, but he didn’t meet her gaze.
Instead, he broke away and held wide the door. “Well, Miss Mia, are you enjoying your stay in here in Chestnut Grove?”
“Totally!” Mia practically skipped into the workshop, her scarf and hood bouncing with her gait. “I love it! Uncle Ben is the coolest. And we’ve got a whole new family. It’s awesome. Right, Mom?”
“Right.” Debra passed through the door Jonah held for her and noticed that he didn’t look at her.
“That’s the way I feel about my sister getting married. It was like being given a big box of blessings.” He turned away to close the door after her and shut out the bitter cold.
As she unbuttoned her coat, she realized he was deliberately avoiding her gaze. Disappointment sank like a stone in her heart. She shrugged out of her coat and like the gentleman Jonah was, he was there, helping her out of the garment, which made her like him even more. She couldn’t seem to get a thank-you out of her suddenly tight throat.
“Miss Mia, let me get your coat, too.” He helped the girl out of her fashionable parka.
With, Debra noticed, the same stoic politeness. He was just being polite, that was all.
“Why don’t you two ladies come take a look at what I’ve sketched up?” Jonah led the way to a big drafting table in the corner, talking over his shoulder, all business. “You’ve got a few choices for the design, Miss Mia, and if you’re not happy, you say the word and I’ll draft up something else.”
Debra watched her daughter skip over to the table. Mia’s hair fell forward as she bent to study the drawings, hiding the reaction on her face. But Debra could read her happiness like a joyful song in the air. She ambled closer to the man and girl, feeling awkward, not knowing what to do.
Mia clasped her hands together. “Oh, Jonah! It’s just what I wanted.”
“You sure? What about the design? I’ve got other choices, why don’t you take a look?” Jonah moved to raise the wide computer-aided drafted designs to reveal more pages underneath.
“Nope!” Mia, so like her grandmother, always knew exactly what she wanted. “This is perfect. The scrollwork stuff is just right. Mom! You’ve got to come see. Ooh, I’m so totally excited. I can’t wait until it’s done. How long will it take to make all this? How long? Could you be done before Christmas?”
Debra mentally rolled her eyes. There went her daughter again, carried away with her enthusiasm. “What did I just finish saying to you, cutie?”
“Oh, right, I know.” Mia winced. “I knew that, but I just got carried away. Jonah, thank you so much for working me into your schedule. It doesn’t have to be done by Christmas.”
Jonah, Debra noticed, didn’t look at all troubled. He appeared amused as he stepped back from his drafting table. “Well, one thing is for sure. I’m not Santa, so I don’t have a workshop full of elves to help me out.”
“Santa’s not real, but it’s a nice story. My grandmother Millie and I, we used to go shopping for the church toy drive. You know how you can get a bunch of presents that kids want and wrap them up and then they’ll be delivered to the family? That’s what we did every year. It was sooo much fun. It was sort of like the story of the elves, but I always thought we we
re honoring the wise men.”
“You sound pretty wise to me, Miss Mia.” Kind, infinitely kind, Jonah hunkered down to draw out a wooden box from beneath the table.
The fall of light from the overhead windows revealed the box was full of short lengths of woods in different shades of stain with different finish work, but Debra could not stop noticing the man.
“Let’s go sit down in the front office with these plans and these samples.” Jonah hefted the box. “We’ll finalize all our details and snack on the Christmas cookies Leah and Olivia dropped off this morning.”
“Are they the ones I helped make yesterday?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Debra watched Jonah and Mia amicably talking as if they’d known each other forever. Something stirred in her heart deep beneath the disappointment and the impossibility. She didn’t know what the emotion was or why she felt it. She only knew that it was a powerful and pure feeling. Somehow she made her feet carry her forward after the hippity-hop of Mia’s gait across the workshop.
As Mia told Jonah of her plans of going to a church activity this evening with her new cousin, Debra did her best not to notice the dependable line of Jonah’s shoulders or the uneven pad of his gait. She hung back. He did not look at her as he brought the plate of cookies to the coffee table between a mismatched couch and chair, which sat in a cozy reception area.
“These are the cookies Olivia and I made.” Mia dropped onto the couch, sinking into the comfortable-looking cushions. “I did all my Christmas trees with white frosting, because they had snow on them. Olivia did hers in green. See?”
“I see.” Jonah’s kindly grin died when he saw Debra approaching. He nodded once in acknowledgment and went to the hot-water carafe in the corner, where clean cups and boxes of tea bags were perched on a Christmas themed tabletop.
She clutched her purse more tightly, willing her gaze away from the solid line of his back, which he kept firmly turned toward her. See how he wasn’t interested in her? Whyever had she thought he was? She mentally shook her head. So, she was intrigued by the man, it was nothing more. It couldn’t be. Besides, he clearly didn’t feel intrigued by her. Goodness, what was wrong with her?