by Kim Watters
“I—I’m— I don’t know. I feel so lost and alone.”
Pastor Matt rubbed his chin. “And this time of year doesn’t help, does it?”
Holly shook her head.
“Survivor’s guilt is a hard cross to bear. But you don’t need to bear it. Jesus did it for us. He died so we might live. I know it’s easier said than done, but search your heart. Challenge those irrational thoughts. You are not to blame, Holly. Grieve for Jared, but do not accept that responsibility. You did everything possible that night to keep yourselves safe.”
“But I don’t feel that I did. I took my eyes off the road. We were having an argument. I should have been paying better attention.” The numbness that she associated with her thoughts of the accident surfaced again. Her fingernails dug into her palms and she bit down on her bottom lip.
“Who hasn’t taken their eyes off the road at least once? Do you change your radio station? Or talk on your cell phone? Or look over at Cameron when you’re talking?”
Holly nodded.
“Of course you do. I don’t know of one person who can say that they pay attention one hundred percent of the time. Don’t focus on the burden of guilt, Holly. God gave you a gift. You survived for Cameron. Each day He gives us is a gift. Use it wisely.”
Holly closed her eyes for a moment and let his words sink in. Was there anything else she could have done that night? No. She hadn’t been driving too fast, and she’d turned her steering wheel in the direction of the skid. But being on a hill with a sharp curve at the bottom along with the stand of trees...deep down, Holly knew that there was nothing she could have done.
Pastor Matt picked up her hand again and held it between his. “There are a few support groups in Flagstaff that gather weekly for people to help each other through their grief.” Something caught his attention and he glanced over her shoulder, a pensive look coming into his eyes. “You’re not the only one who needs to go.”
Holly turned and met Ethan’s gaze.
“Thanks, Pastor Matt.”
He squeezed her hand gently before he released it. “Anytime, Holly. My door is always open.”
Holly slipped back into the community room and found her son and Ethan, each with a plateful of food. “Mom, what are we doing later?”
Her son straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. The top of his head almost reached her eye level. When had Cam sprouted up? And when had he lost his little-boy softness? And outgrown his clothes? His long sleeves barely came down to his wrists and his pants neared the flood stage. She had to siphon money from the grocery budget and take him shopping this week.
Holly knew Cameron wanted to go out to the sanctuary, and she thought about her schedule. She needed to talk to Ethan, though, before she made any commitments, in case he had other plans. “You have a rehearsal this afternoon.”
“Do I have to do it?” Cam kicked the floor with his sneaker, a scowl on his face.
“Yes. Some things are not negotiable. The Christmas pageant was short of shepherds this year, and Mrs. Stocker needed more boys.”
“They still do the Dynamite Creek Christmas pageant?”
“Yes. Next weekend at the old Jensen place outside of town. Not too far from the sanctuary, if I remember correctly. Pastor Matt does a wonderful job with the narration, but this year it could be interesting if it keeps snowing. Cam played baby Jesus when he was an infant.” Holly’s memories flew back to that night and the reaction of the crowd when they realized it was a real baby instead of a doll. Her heart swelled and a smile curved her lips. “Of course, he doesn’t remember. Not that I’d expect him to, but it was still special just the same.”
“I don’t want to do it.” Cam continued to scowl and kick the floor.
“Why not? It’s an honor to be asked. Even I did it as a kid. Call it a rite of passage for the kids of Dynamite Creek.” Ethan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, as if daring Cameron to challenge him.
“Really?” Cam’s attitude spun a one-eighty.
“Really. I played a shepherd, too. I got to chase around Mr. McDermott’s pesky goat all night and try to keep him from eating all the props. Do they still use live animals?”
“Yes, but not as many as they did years ago. The year before Cam’s birth, the three wise men came in on camels, but now they use horses. And I think there might be a goat or a few sheep.”
Cameron looked at Ethan with the hero worship Holly had uncomfortably grown accustomed to before her son high-fived him. “Fine. I’ll do it, but only because you did. There’s Tyson. I’ll be right back.”
While Cameron ran off to talk to his friend, Holly used the opportunity to speak her thoughts. She’d had all night to think about it, and this morning’s sermon on opening your heart to receive all that God had to offer could have been written for her. She truly was blessed to have what she did even though there were days when it was easy to forget. Pastor Matt’s stories of those who had lost everything in last month’s hurricane moved her deeply and made her more aware that even when things looked the darkest, there was always a light to show you the way. You just had to be open to it.
And her talk with Pastor Matt a few minutes ago gave her more clarity on her role in the accident. She started to accept the idea that she wasn’t really responsible at all.
“Look. I’ve been thinking about the wood shop. I—I— It’s okay for you and Cameron to use it. I’m sorry I got so upset yesterday. It was just such a surprise to find you in there.”
Cam was the one she really needed to tell, but her son had withdrawn again, making it difficult for her to speak to him in the small amount of time they could actually spend together.
“I’m sorry we didn’t ask permission.” Ethan’s gaze darted around the crowded room before he reached over and pulled her out of the way of a group of rambunctious teenagers.
His fingers remained on her arm, creating a crazy sensation again that she was afraid to put an emotion to. The unspoken kiss lingered in the air between them, yet Holly wasn’t ready to bring it up. She swallowed the lump in her throat, stepped from his grasp and then wiped her hands against her black slacks.
“Apology accepted.” Holly hated to have to say her next words but what choice did she have, especially when Kristen wasn’t available? Sure, Cameron was old enough to be left alone for a few hours, but recent history, excluding the time he spent with Ethan, told her another story. She stared at the checkered pattern on the beige carpet before she met his gaze again. Money was finally coming in, but at what cost? She had less time than before, when she actually needed more time to spend with Cameron, but what bothered her more was her son didn’t seem to care. After Christmas things would change. “I have to run and do a bid for a potential decorating job in an hour and then stop by to check on Mindy at the store before we leave for the rehearsal. If you don’t mind taking Cam with you, you can use the shed. That way he can finish up whatever he was working on.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Ethan watched Cameron nail the last board into place. Fixing Holly’s porch after they’d finished up in the woodworking shop reminded him of all the things that still needed to be done at the sanctuary and his house, for that matter. But teaching Holly’s son the basics in carpentry and other useful skills could only be beneficial in the long run when he wouldn’t be around. Not that Ethan had any plans of leaving Dynamite Creek, but everything eventually came to an end. As much as he’d love to keep Cameron around to help with the sanctuary and see that he followed the right path into adulthood, in another year or two, Cameron’s thoughts would be elsewhere and Ethan would need the spot open to help another at-risk kid.
Using the back of his hand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead despite the cold, late-fall air around them. Stepping out the back door with a tray wedged against her hip, Holly looked so young in her faded Northe
rn Arizona University sweatshirt. Too young to be a widow. But then again so was Stephanie Dodd, a young mother and the wife of one of the men killed under his watch. A senseless death. A needless one. If only he’d been doing his job right. Instead of looking for the ambush, he’d been distracted by the stray dog running around on the road. He’d been worried that the convoy would hit it.
No one should have died. He should have realized the dog had been a decoy. A movie reel of images tumbled around in his mind, the signals from his brain tossing around the contents of his stomach. He’d held Mike Dodd in his arms, his own blood mingling with Mike’s as he tried to staunch the flow from his wounds. I don’t want to die. Say a prayer for me. Tell Steph that I love her, little Jacob, too. His breaths came in gasps as he tried to talk while his life spilled out of him in a stream of red. Blood, dust and chemical smells surrounded them as did the sounds of moans and yelling and gunfire. Light had faded to black and the next thing Ethan knew, he was in a hospital in Germany.
“Are you okay?” Holly handed both Ethan and Cameron a glass of water.
“Fine.” Ethan blinked and stared at the scenery around him, so different from the dusty brown of Afghanistan. He drank the entire contents in one try, but nothing could erase the memories that bombarded him now in the daylight hours, too.
Holly’s eyebrows rose a fraction before she drew them in close, her breathing changing to a quicker tempo. “Thanks for fixing that for me, guys. Now I don’t have to worry about anyone hurting themselves.”
“Not a problem.” Cameron straightened his shoulders again and looked at Ethan with trust and adulation written in his expression.
The boy misplaced his trust in him. Holly, too, because he was the wrong person. He’d be better off cutting any ties to them while he still had his heart intact. Or most of it, anyway. The kiss in the shed had affected him more than he cared to think about. He still needed to learn from his past mistakes before he could move forward.
And if she was looking for protection, she’d be better off with someone else.
* * *
At the store Thursday afternoon, Holly dug through the boxes she’d taken from Abby’s place. The musty odor permeated the candy-cane-scented air and dust settled in her nose. She sneezed. Abby had been right. There wasn’t much use for the stuff as it was, but she could turn some of it into other things. Maybe. If she could find the inspiration between all her worries.
“What do you think?” She held up some hand-painted wooden ornaments.
“Pretty ghastly. So is this.” Kristen pulled out a bag of cheap plastic holly leaves and berries. “Although Figaro might like to play with it. So how’s Ethan?”
Holly’s heart fluttered at the mention of his name. She didn’t dare tell Kristen about the kiss. Or her reaction to it. Her friend would only encourage the romance, if there was one, to continue. Confusion clouded her judgment. It had been so long since she’d been on the starting end of a relationship, she had no idea what the signs were anymore. “Okay, I guess.”
“Only just okay? Don’t you see each other every day?”
“Not always.” At least not anymore, but she kept that information to herself. “Cam is usually waiting for me in the driveway when I pick him up.”
He used to walk with Cameron to her car and say hi. What had changed over the past few days? She didn’t have to rack her brain for too long. Heat seared her cheeks and her fingers instinctively found her mouth. The kiss must have affected him, too, and he realized as she did that any type of relationship between them was out of the question. Too bad her heart didn’t seem to be following her head’s lead.
“Regardless of what you think or want, there is nothing between us now, or will be in the future. I’m sure Ethan feels the same. Now, let’s think of a way we can use all this stuff.”
Holly wished she could wipe the knowing look flittering through Kristen’s eyes. “I got it. No more talk about Ethan.” She glanced down at the ornament in her hand. “It’s interesting to think this stuff is older than we are.”
“And hopefully we’ve aged better.”
“Well, some of us have.” Laughing, Kristen picked up a box of round, plastic ornaments of various colors.
“Look who’s talking.” Holly continued to pull things from the box. “I was hoping there would be something in here I could use.”
“Yeah, someone was going for the cheesy, retro seventies look. You know, next year when Cam’s looking for a costume, you can glue some old garland to a green sweatshirt and attach these and he can go as a vintage Christmas tree.”
Holly sank back onto her heels and snapped her fingers. “That gives me an idea. My neighbor threw away some old picture frames and broken footstools. I can glue these onto them and create a unique montage to hang on the wall or place by the fireplace. Individually, these are awful, but put them together...” Holly laid a bunch of the ornaments on the floor and interspersed them with a few sprigs of the plastic holly leaves she’d torn from the stems. “And you’ve got something stunning.”
“And instead of glass and a picture, you could put a mirror inside the frame or figure out how to make a candleholder out of it. Or use it as a door hanging instead of a traditional wreath. You could sell them in the shop to spruce up the remaining merchandise and put them up online. And why stop with Christmas?” Kristen’s excitement filled the air.
“You’re right. Old costume jewelry, buttons, broken antique dishes. Even old hardware.” Holly fingered the silver ball she’d taken from the box before she held it up. Giddiness took hold, probably from lack of sleep. “Look. A tiny disco ball.” She stood and pointed her finger in the air before jutting it down across the front of her body, and wiggled her hips. “I think I’ve just discovered another source of income.”
Kristen joined her and jutted her hip out along with her arms. “And I bet you can pick up more real cheap at the thrift stores in Flagstaff as well as some vases. These cheap plastic balls would probably look pretty good wedged inside. And then you could glue some poinsettias or other holiday flowers around the bottom and even to the top.”
“Or I can glue the ornaments and stuff to the vases and create one-of-a-kind centerpieces, too.” Holly giggled and continued her little jig with the silver ornament dangling above her head.
“Mind if we join you?” Ethan stepped through the door after another man, carrying a notepad and tape measure.
Both Holly’s and Kristen’s laughter died. Holly shivered from the blast of cold air and dropped her hand with the ornament to her side, her moment of joy escaping like the warm air inside the shop. Ethan had brought another potential tenant inside.
Reality hit. What good would it do to make more stuff to sell when she would have no place to sell it?
* * *
A cold wind seeped through Holly’s jacket as she sat on the blanket she’d brought to watch the pageant Saturday night at the old Jensen place. She was glad she’d told Cam to wear his long johns underneath his shepherd’s outfit and wished she’d done the same. The cold from the ground had a way of penetrating the layers of cloth. She shivered, glad the production was only thirty minutes long. Her fingers curled around what remained of the cup of hot chocolate provided by Kiwanis Club.
Around her, the gathering crowd settled into their lawn chairs or blankets in the dim glow cast by the temporary lighting brought in for the event. To her right, the choir paged through their music; the only other words that would be spoken tonight would be Pastor Matt’s. His voice broke the quiet murmur of the crowd, announcing the show would start in five minutes.
She glanced around, only too familiar with the setting. A stable had been set up directly in front of her, its thatched roof of palm fronds stirring in the light breeze. Two false, old, stucco housefronts faced her, creating the intimate feeling of a small town among the dead grass and dormant trees.
The old Jensen place was the perfect spot. Out in the country and away from the town’s lights, she could get a real sense of what it was like to live before electricity. Sure, they had temporary lights set up so people wouldn’t trip and fall, but the muted lights only cast the glow down. The inky black sky dotted with millions of stars and planets winked back at her in the frosty air.
“Mind if I join you?” Ethan held up another blanket and smiled down at her tentatively.
“You’re here?”
“I wouldn’t miss Cameron’s acting debut for anything. I even told him a few things about keeping the goats in line.”
“Good things, I hope,” Holly teased lightly.
Ethan feigned innocence and put his hand to his chest. “Of course.”
That he would come and watch Cam’s performance filled her with gladness. It would mean so much to her son. It meant a lot to her, even though she tried to deny that her heartbeat had accelerated and that she had someone to share the moment with. Glancing around, she realized there wasn’t any other room near the front. She moved to the corner of her blanket, well aware that it would be a snug fit for both of them. Since there was no room for his blanket on the ground, Holly had a different use for it in mind as another small gust of wind rattled the remaining leaves on the trees surrounding the natural amphitheater. She patted the spot next to her. “Um, sure. Have a seat.”
“In a second.” After he dropped the blanket down and strode away, Holly pulled the wool over her lap before Ethan returned a few moments later with two cups pinched between his fingers. “I haven’t had hot chocolate in years. Here’s another one for you.” He settled down next to her, still a little too close for her comfort.
“Thanks. I’m sure Cam will be glad you made it.”