A Family-Style Christmas and Yuletide Homecoming

by Carolyne Aarsen

  His voice rumbled under her cheek as she settled against him her hand on his heart. Through the material of his denim jacket she felt the beat—steady, strong and sure. “It was because of Marilee,” she replied. “She made it sound as if she was going to meet you. As if she was going out with you.”

  Logan brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. “I wish you would have asked me right away. I could have told you.”

  “When? How? Marilee’s death was like a huge boulder dropped into a pond. The resulting waves completely swamped my life.” Sarah curled her fingers, catching them on a button flap of his jacket as her mind unconsciously went back to that evening. “When the police came to tell me that she had died...” Sarah stopped. Caught her breath.

  Logan’s arms tightened, granting her a safe harbor. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He stroked the top of her head with his chin, slowly, slowly.

  “You lost someone you loved, too,” she whispered, clutching his shirt with her hand. “You lost your father.”

  “But I had my mother and my brother and friends to help me through that. You were all alone in a strange place.” He sighed. “I wanted to see you. Wanted to talk to you. In fact I even went to one of your games.”

  This made Sarah pull back, surprised. “When?”

  “About two years ago. You were playing in Calgary. I drove down.”

  “But you never talked to me...you didn’t come...”

  He shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ears, his eyes intent on his hand. “Your uncle and cousins were there. I didn’t want to interfere. And I wasn’t sure where I stood with you. So I slunk back home.”

  He smiled, his teeth white in the semidarkness. “But it was great watching you play.”

  What-ifs and maybes hung between them. If he had come to her, if he had talked to her. If she had picked up the phone...

  Maybe things would have been different. Maybe they would each be in a different place now.

  And what place would that have been?

  Sarah leaned forward, caught his face in her hands, pulled him close and kissed him as if erasing those questions.

  Logan looked momentarily startled, then a smile lit up his face. “You continue to surprise me,” he said with a chuckle.

  She gave him an answering smile. “What did you expect? You had this all planned.”

  “Well, I wanted to talk where nobody would see and report back to your dad. I’m sure he would have something to say about this.”

  “I’m sure he would, if he knew.” Sarah drew back, her eyes on the horses standing quietly now. “Or as much as he could say, given his disability.”

  “So what has he been saying?”

  Sarah unfolded the mittens, folded them again, wondering what to tell him, how much she wanted to open up to him. But when she looked up and saw the concern in his face, her self-control wavered. “He said he forgave me,” she said.

  “Forgave you? For what? Leaving?”

  “For Marilee. He said he forgave me for what happened to Marilee.”

  “What was to forgive?”

  “Marilee had called me. From the party. Asked me to pick her up. I didn’t go because I was being the good girl. Obeying the curfew that Dad hit me with after he found out about you. I didn’t get her, and she got into the accident,” she said.

  “How is that your fault?”

  Sarah shrugged. “If I had picked her up, she might not have been in that car with those boys.”

  Logan caught her by her shoulders. “How can you possibly take that on? How can you possibly think it’s your responsibility that she lived or died?”

  His eyes blazed into hers and for a moment Sarah feared what she had unleashed. Then she realized his anger was not directed toward her, but toward the guilt she carried. Guilt that no one had ever addressed because how Marilee died was never talked about.

  “She had other options. I know who was at that party, and not everyone left drunk. She could have gotten a ride with many other people, but she chose those boys because Marilee always, always lived on the edge,” Logan continued. “She didn’t have to go to that party. She could have stayed home like you did.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “But she did. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She was just being typical Marilee when she called you, knowing that she could count on you to pick her up and then cover for her when you got home or, even better, take the heat for both of you being out at night past your curfew. Marilee always took very good care of Marilee. And in your heart you know that.”

  As he spoke, Sarah clung to his words, hardly daring to take the comfort he was offering with them: the assurance that she had done nothing wrong by doing nothing for her sister that night. That she was simply a bystander and that Marilee’s tragedy was of her own doing.

  And yet, in spite of what he was telling her, she couldn’t extinguish the small spark of disloyalty she felt in putting aside the guilt she had carried so long.

  “You know I’m right, Sarah. You do. Marilee was spoiled and selfish and your father had a lot to do with that....”

  “She was a fun-loving person,” Sarah said, defending her beloved sister.

  “She was,” Logan said. “And I don’t want to talk ill of someone who can’t defend themselves, but I’m laying out the reality of Marilee’s life for your sake, not to take away from who she was. She was too big a part of your and Frank’s life. She took over that house.”

  Sarah thought of Marilee’s room. “She still does. Her room hasn’t changed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My dad left everything the same in that room. Her shirt is still hanging over the back of the chair, just as she left it the night she died. He put a lock on the door just before Christmas.”

  “You should clean that up.”

  “But my dad—”

  “Is in the hospital and has controlled enough of your life.” Logan shook his head and emitted an exasperated sigh. “You’ve spent enough time pleasing him. He doesn’t deserve your devotion.”

  “Pleasing the wrong father...”

  “What?”

  “I’ve had this phrase going through my mind. That I’ve spent a lot of my life pleasing the wrong father.”

  “Instead of pleasing God?”

  “I used to care about my relationship with God, but if I look back, I think my relationship with my earthly father took the upper hand.”

  “My dad always used to tell me that we put God and Jesus first in our lives, but that never made much sense to me,” Logan said quietly. “My dad was here on earth, so I could directly talk to him. God was much harder. I always had a hard time concentrating when I was praying.”

  Sarah smiled at his honesty. “What was your relationship with your father like?”

  Logan smiled, looking off into the middle distance. “We had fun together. He was honest. Whenever I got into trouble in school he stood up for me. He was a good man who didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

  “The trial?”

  Logan’s features tightened. “The trial absolutely drained him and my mom—and what made it worse was how he was treated in the community even after he was found innocent. It was like the false accusations had stained him for life.”

  “I remember how my dad used to talk about it,” Sarah said quietly.

  “Your father has a lot to answer for, a lot that—” Logan bit off the last word as if he was going to say more.

  “Are you talking about the contract you said you’re trying to get back?”

  “Yeah. Except there have been a few glitches with that, as well. But I’m working on it.”

  “How?”

  “I’m trying to buy it from the guy your father gave it to. Crane Overstreet.”


  “But if my father gave it to Crane, why is he trying to sell it to you?” Sarah had been somewhat aware of her father’s construction company’s operations, but didn’t always understand the intricacies of the business end.

  “Because Crane claims it has a value. And he’s right. A contract with Westerveld Construction is not only lucrative, it’s stable. Or can be.”

  “But if my dad took it away once, couldn’t he do it again?”

  “My dad could have legally fought what your father did. That contract was binding, but after the trial my father didn’t have the energy or the resources.”

  “And you do?”

  “I have the energy. I would never let your father push me around like he did my dad. Deceive me like he did my dad. Ever.”

  The steel in his voice made Sarah uncomfortable and her instinctive need to stand up for her father came to the fore. “I know my dad isn’t perfect. I know he’s made mistakes...”

  “I’m sorry. I know he’s still your father and all, but Sarah, he’s a complicated man and he’s got a lot to answer for. Not only with my father, but with you, as well. What he said about forgiving you for Marilee, what he said about the wrong daughter dying... A father cares about his children more than he cares about himself.” Logan’s earnest voice pushed at her fragile defenses. “My father always put us first. Always took our side. When I came home from school with a bloody nose or a black eye because I got into a fight with someone over what they said about him, the only thing he would say was a gentle reminder to love my enemies. Something I’m not that good at, I’ll have to admit.”

  “He sounds so different from the trial images that got stuck on him.... You really loved your father, didn’t you?” Sarah asked.

  “Dearly. Deeply. I miss him. He had a good perspective on life. He had a strong faith. When he

  died...” Logan stopped there.

  The sleigh moved ahead a bit and Logan gently pulled on the reins, talking to his horses. The horses his father had trained.

  “I’m so sorry, Logan.”

  He shrugged. “I am, too. I’m sorry that people believed he did what he had been falsely accused of. That was hard on my father’s pride and hard on my family. I’m glad his name was cleared, but that was a long, hard road that he shouldn’t have had to travel. He was a good man.”

  Even though Logan’s father was dead, Sarah still felt a touch of jealousy, owing to the love and conviction in Logan’s voice.

  Logan toyed with the ends of the reins, then turned to her. “Have you ever wondered why your father disliked my family so much?”

  “Often. I even asked my father once and he got angry enough that I didn’t bother asking again. I always wondered why, though.”

  “I think it was guilt.”

  “Over the contract?”

  Logan looked down at his hands as if weighing his words. After a long silence, he spoke. “My father asked Frank to be a character witness for him during the trial. My father always got along with his partner. To think that he would have killed him was ludicrous. Frank knew all this, knew how they got along, but when my father asked, Frank refused.”

  “Why?”

  “My mother told me it was because Frank has harbored an attraction to my mother which she rebuffed. She claims that Frank was jealous of my father and was punishing her through him.”

  As he spoke, lights flicked on in Sarah’s mind. Her father’s unreasoning anger toward the Carletons, how his face would tighten up whenever anyone mentioned Donna’s name. An old, forgotten conversation meandered into her mind.... Marilee commenting on a dress Donna had worn to church and how pretty she thought it was. This triggered a long lecture about the evils of putting our looks before our service to God that had always puzzled Sarah. Until now.

  She suddenly felt as if she had lived a life of well-guarded innocence and misplaced trust. How could her father have done this?

  “I’m sorry, Sarah,” Logan said. “I shouldn’t have told you. It’s just, I’ve had such struggles with your father.”

  “Father. Such that he is. This evening, when your mom read out loud that Bible passage about a father having compassion on his children...” Sarah laughed out, but without humor. “I wonder if a lot of my struggles with God were because I pictured him as my father was. And as I mulled this over, I realized all along I’ve been trying to please the wrong father.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I want to get myself right with God. My father? I don’t know about him anymore. Not after what he did. Not after what you just told me.”

  “He hasn’t been much of a father to you, has he?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. Of course, once I’m gone, I won’t have to worry about him being a father at all. Won’t have to see him regularly.”

  Logan’s frown deepened and Sarah realized what she had just said. The implication that she was leaving.

  Well, she was, wasn’t she? Did she really want to stay here with a bitter man who couldn’t even see her as his own daughter? A man who would harbor such jealousy and anger toward innocent people?

  The horses stamped, jerking the sleigh forward a few inches.

  “Something brought you back here, though, Sarah. Something made you return.”

  “That something was a note from my father.” She turned to Logan. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me growing up, wondering if I was ever going to be good enough for him? Wondering what I could possibly do to please him? I broke up with you because of him, Logan.”

  His expression was veiled. “I know... I guess I was hoping to hear that part of the reason you came back was that unfinished business with us.”

  Sarah held his gaze, her breath quickening.

  Her feelings for Logan were becoming stronger. Stronger even than when she was a fresh-faced teenage girl.

  Sure, Logan was on her mind when she made her plans. And now that she had found out the truth about him and Marilee, so much between them had shifted and changed.

  But what was she supposed to do with it? She hadn’t planned on reuniting with him. Yet, here she was, in his sleigh. She had kissed him and enjoyed it.

  “I missed you.”

  “And now?”

  She still had plans, didn’t she? Could she change them? Because being with Logan meant she wouldn’t be free of her father at all.

  “I don’t know, Logan. Can we just take things as they come? I think the horses are getting restless,” Sarah said, trying to lighten the mood that had fallen over them.

  “Yeah. I suppose.” Logan gathered up the reins and clucked to the horses, and with a light jerk they were off. The steel runners of the sleigh hissed over the crisp snow, the moon shadow chasing Logan, Sarah and the horses down the trail toward Logan’s home.

  They pulled up to the barn, but before Sarah could get out of the sleigh, Logan stopped her. “Billy’s team is playing this weekend here in town. Do you want to go?”

  Sarah tested the thought, wondered how she would feel about watching the team and, even more important, what her family would say if she showed up with Logan.

  “I’m thinking this could fall under the umbrella of taking things as they come,” Logan said quietly. “And aren’t you even a little bit curious about how the boys are doing?”

  “I am actually. I’d love to go.” The thought of spending time with Logan in public held a certain appeal.

  “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.”

  “And I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ringing of the phone cut off Logan’s meandering thoughts. His heart jumped when he saw Westerveld on the call display, but by the time he answered he realized it was Dan Westerveld’s name, not Frank’s.

  “Is this Logan Carleton?” the woman’s voic
e on the other end of the phone asked.

  “That’s right.” What would Dan’s wife want with him?

  “This is Tilly Westerveld. I may as well get to the point. I need to talk to you about Sarah and I’d prefer to do it face-to-face. Are you coming into town later this afternoon?”

  Tilly sounded reasonable. Pleasant in fact. But Logan had no intention of discussing his relationship with Sarah, such that it was, with any Westerveld. “I’m busy all day. I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  She was astute; he’d give her that. “I’m sorry, Tilly. I really don’t know what we’d have to talk about.”

  “It’s important.”

  Logan hooked his foot around his chair and pulled it toward him. The serious tone of Tilly’s voice told him this would be a sitting-down kind of conversation. He tried not to let a sense of déjà vu settle in. This was just Sarah’s aunt.

  “What do you need to say?” he said, prompting her.

  “This is a bit hard, given your history, but Logan, I would like you to let Sarah go.”

  Logan’s heart pushed against his chest. Not again.

  “See, this is where we’re already having a problem, Mrs. Westerveld,” Logan said, aiming for a casual tone. “I don’t have any kind of hold on Sarah. She’s free to do as she pleases. As she always has been.”

  A momentary pause hung between them. It ended with a light sigh that sent a riffle of foreboding over his surface calm.

  “Sarah has never been free to do as she pleases. Sarah has spent a large portion of her life trying to do as her father pleases. You know as well as I do that Sarah’s relationship with her father is complicated. For the first time in her life, Frank is truly acknowledging Sarah as his daughter. You know how important this is to her. You know how she has longed for Frank to be a true father to her.”

  Logan thought of Frank’s bizarre absolution of Sarah. Frank’s twisted devotion to Logan’s mother.

  “Sarah has her own difficulties with her father that have nothing to do with me. I’m not keeping her away. She is choosing to stay away.”