“Amen,” echoed around the room.
Alice looked over to see Max surreptitiously wipe his eyes, and she closed her own in a moment of private entreaty. Please, Lord, bring joy back into this man’s life. Show him the path of peace and help him reconcile with his son. That is the only gift I want this year.
Louise ushered everyone into the parlor, where she played classic Christmas carols on the piano for their guests. Alice and Jane brought out eggnog and cookies, and encouraged the guests to sing.
“You don’t want me to,” Jane warned them. “The good crystal might not survive the experience.”
Laura and Edwina were coerced into singing a duet of “Walking in a Winter Wonderland,” which they performed beautifully: Laura had a surprisingly sweet soprano voice, which harmonized wonderfully with Edwina’s contralto.
Ted obliged the group with a brief and rather comical rendition of “Deck the Halls,” as he could not remember all the words and had to be prompted. That was followed by Allan, who got them all singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”
Max walked up to the piano when they reached day twelve and asked Louise something in a low voice. She nodded, and after she finished the last verse Max stood next to the piano.
Alice noticed that he was scowling again and for a moment feared that the fact that he had received no phone calls had made him revert back to his former, melancholy detachment.
“I haven’t done this in ten years or better,” he told them in a very gruff voice. “But this song was my wife’s favorite Christmas carol, and I would like to sing it in her memory.”
Max then sang “Silent Night” in his deep baritone. Everyone grew still as they listened to the solemn carol, which was performed carefully and with great affection.
Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light;
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.
Alice sighed as the deep emotion in the man’s voice seemed to vibrate in her bones. It was the perfect ending to the evening.
Since it was growing late, Jane walked Ethel back to the carriage house, while Alice and Edwina tidied up the parlor. When she returned, the mantel clock struck midnight and everyone exchanged heartfelt wishes for a Merry Christmas before retiring for the evening.
It had been a lovely Christmas Eve, Alice decided as she went out to turn down the lamps in the front of the house. She was surprised to see Aunt Ethel’s Christmas candle glowing on a table that had been set by one of the front windows, sending out the aroma of peppermint.
Max came out of the kitchen and noticed her standing by the window.
“I put that there a little earlier,” he told her. “My wife would always keep a candle in the window on Christmas Eve.”
“I meant to do that myself, but I forgot about it.” She looked out into the darkness. “It’s so cold. I hope there is no one out there traveling tonight.”
“There is,” Max told her, “but I think Jesus Christ knows His way around.”
Chapter Twenty
Jane woke up to electric light on Christmas morning and saw that it came from the lamp beside her bed; she had not turned it off before the power failed.
She scrambled out from under the covers. “We’ve got power.” The floor was warm under her bare feet, thanks to the central heating.
Swiftly she dressed and hurried downstairs to see the Christmas tree lit up and brightly wrapped gifts piled around the base. The gift tags all listed three names: hers, Alice’s and Louise’s.
She looked around. “Did Santa actually make it through the snow drifts?” She still had hope that one special visitor would.
A yawning Edwina joined her at the foot of the stairs. “It would appear one of his helpers did.” Her drowsy eyes glowed with happiness. “Merry Christmas, Jane.”
“Merry Christmas to you too.” Jane gave her an affectionate hug. “Should we wake up the whole house or go make coffee?”
“Coffee first,” the schoolteacher said. “I especially don’t want to make Max wait for his first cup. He’s being too nice and I don’t want to ruin it.”
By the time Jane had the coffee brewing and the teakettle filled, her sisters and the rest of their guests had come downstairs. Edwina brought the filled stockings in from the parlor and handed them around, while Alice and Louise surveyed, with some bewilderment, the gifts left under the tree for them.
“You didn’t go to all this trouble, did you?” Alice asked her older sister, who shook her head. “Then, who? Jane?”
“No, I believe that Jane used silver wrapping paper.” Louise nodded toward two gifts sitting to one side, and scanned the smiling faces around them. “I have five more ideas about who it could have been, however.”
Once everyone had a cup of coffee or tea, Edwina insisted that the sisters open their gifts first.
“You’ve put us before yourselves all week. Now it’s your turn.” She glanced at Ted, who had his camera ready.
Louise opened the first gift, which was rectangular and flat. Inside was a large framed drawing of Grace Chapel Inn, so precisely detailed that it showed even the wood grain on the siding.
It was signed by the artist, Allan Hansford.
“I had Ted smuggle some of your brochures up to me while I was stuck in bed,” the retired architect explained. “The photo of the inn on the cover gave me the basic exterior structure. After my allergies died down, I slipped outside a few times to get the detailing.” He tapped the frame. “I stole this from my room. The nice little watercolor which was in it is safely stowed in the top of my closet.”
“It is just beautiful,” Louise said, touched by the talent and time that had gone into making the gift. “Thank you so much.”
Alice opened the next gift, which contained three gorgeous scarves knitted in an airy pattern from blue, green and violet yarn, the same yarn Edwina had been using to make the little afghan for her grandchild.
“The blue is for Louise, the green for Alice and the purple for Jane,” the smiling schoolteacher told them. “I have one for your aunt too.”
“But what about your afghan?” Alice asked.
“What afghan? I unraveled it Sunday night.” Edwina laughed. “Don’t worry, I will make another. In fact, that poor child will receive enough things knitted by me to last her two lifetimes.”
Jane opened Laura’s gift, which was the antique snow globe with the three children carolers that the interior decorator had made such a fuss over buying. “Oh, Laura!”
“I never liked that client very much anyway,” the interior decorator said in a mock snooty voice before her expression softened. “It belongs in a house like this, with people like you.”
Ted’s gift was a collage of photos he had taken of Acorn Hill on his first day in town.
“It was the only roll of film I was able to have developed before we were stranded,” he explained. “I’ll send you copies of the rest as soon as I get home.”
The sisters admired the different pictures, which showed the town and its people with uncanny accuracy and with a suggestion of great affection.
“These remind me of Norman Rockwell paintings,” Louise said. “You have an excellent eye for composition and light, Ted.”
“I couldn’t wrap my gift,” Max said, “but if you have a trash can, I can show it to you.”
Mystified, Alice went and retrieved the small trash can from the office. Max thanked her and set it on the floor in front of him.
“This is really for Alice, but I think everyone here will appreciate it,” he said.
Max removed a box of matches from his pocket and dropped them into the trash can. He then took out his cigar case and did the same with the cigars it contained. He paused, patted his jacket pockets and came up with a few more cigars and discarded those as well.
Everyone stared at the trash can, then at Max, in
shock. All but Alice, who gently cleared her throat.
“Oh all right.” After giving her one of his most ferocious scowls, Max sighed heavily and tossed his expensive leather case in on top of the cigars. “I quit. Happy holidays.”
Everyone erupted into applause, and Alice insisted on giving the big businessman a hug. “I am so proud of you, Max Ziglar.”
He returned the hug. “I’m also making breakfast,” he said over Alice’s shoulder. “French toast for the whole house.”
A loud engine sound made Jane turn her head toward the windows. “What is that?”
Louise rose and went to look. “I believe it is a snowplow, clearing the road.”
Alice’s mouth sagged open.
“Okay, I definitely believe in Santa Claus now,” Jane said and grinned, “because that’s exactly what I wanted for Christmas.”
“You wanted your own snowplow?” Laura frowned.
“It doesn’t look as if it is stopping here.” Louise shaded her eyes with her hand. “Although there are two people coming up to our porch.”
The two people turned out to be Aunt Ethel and a heavily dressed young man. Jane went out to greet them.
“How are you?” Jane walked up to the man and helped him with his coat as if she knew him. “I’m so happy you could make it.”
“I was stranded for a few days, but I talked the local road crew into letting me ride up here with them.” The man removed his knit cap and the scarf covering the lower part of his face, which was covered with a neat black beard. Next he took off his sunglasses and looked across the room. He had very familiar, dark brown eyes. “Did he leave?”
“No.” A pale Max Ziglar took a hesitant step forward. “I’m still here, John.”
“This is Mr. Ziglar’s son,” Jane announced for everyone else’s benefit.
Max, still staring at the younger man as if seeing a ghost, took another, hesitant step forward. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
John Ziglar smiled and ran a hand over his beard. “I guess I’ve changed a little since the last time we saw each other.”
“The last time I saw you, you were barely out of your teens. Now you’ve grown into a man.” Max spoke as if in a dream and terribly afraid he would wake up. “I don’t understand. How did you get here? How did you find me?”
“Ms. Howard actually found me. She called me last week and told me that you were visiting in this area.” John Ziglar came forward, also quite slowly. “I wanted to get here over the weekend, but the weather changed that. It was pretty touch-and-go for a few days. I wasn’t sure until late last night that I could get here.”
“How in the world were you able to find him?” Alice murmured to her sister.
“I did a little research on the Internet,” Jane whispered back. “I would have said something to you and Louise, but the storm hit, and I wasn’t sure if John was still coming or if he had gone back home.”
Max still seemed deeply shocked. “Why would you come here, John? Surely not for me.”
The younger man glanced around the room. “This looks like a nice place, but there was no other reason I’d leave my family during the holidays and hitch a ride on a snowplow, except to see you.”
“You did all that? Came through all this weather, to see me?” The businessman didn’t sound as if he believed his son. “Why would you?”
John frowned a little. “You’re my father.”
“But I drove you away.” Max’s voice became strained and he looked at the floor. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
The others tried to address their attention to the tree: This time was for the Ziglars.
“I know. I thought by now you might have changed your mind.” His son’s voice went low. “I’ve wanted to see you for a long time. I thought we should try to talk again.”
That made Max stare at his son. “You mean that?”
“Yes. This seemed like a good opportunity. You know, neutral ground for both of us.” John Ziglar removed his glove and held out his hand, his expression still uncertain. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
For a long moment the businessman stared at the younger man’s hand as if it might vanish. Then he looked into John’s eyes and his own glittered with tears. “Merry Christmas, son.”
Max ignored the outstretched hand and pulled John into his arms.
Dear Lord, forgive me for doubting You, Alice prayed silently. And thank You for the snowplow.
Edwina excused herself for a moment and returned with a box of tissues, which she passed around to the other women. “I never thought I’d cry on a Christmas morning,” she confessed as she blotted her tears. “But I haven’t felt this moved since my son was born.” She looked at Jane. “You’ve done such a wonderful thing.”
Embarrassed, the youngest Howard sister shuffled her feet. “The effort was really all John’s. He had to beat the weather and the traffic and the lack of transportation to get here. I only made some phone calls.”
“I don’t know many people who would care enough for a stranger to even think of something like this,” Allan said, and took one of the tissues and applied it to his own watery eyes. When Edwina smiled at him, he shrugged. “My allergies.”
“Mine must be flaring up too,” Ted murmured as he reached for the box.
After the emotional reunion, Max took Jane to one side and clasped her hands in his. “I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know how to tell you what this means to me or how to begin to thank you.”
“I’m so happy for both of you.” Jane smiled and squeezed his hands. “I’m also completely relieved that it was not a terrible mistake. I was worried that you might not …”
“Appreciate it?” Max grimaced and glanced over at John. “I don’t blame you. I’ve allowed pride to steal too many years of happiness from me.” He smiled, a wonderful smile. “Bless you for helping make this reunion happen for us.”
Father and son had ten years to catch up on and they began to tackle the task over a Christmas Day breakfast of French toast, prepared by the sisters since Max was otherwise occupied.
“I have a studio in Manhattan now,” John told his father. “I do graphic work, mostly advertising, but I’ve had a few shows in the Village and I’m starting to build a following. My wife Natalie is a sculptor.”
“Your wife?” Max seemed taken aback. “You left a wife at home to come and see an old man?”
“Natalie has been encouraging me to see you for some time. She would have come with me, but her parents came down from Buffalo for a visit to see the boys.”
Now Max looked staggered. “Your boys? You have children?”
“Twins.” John took out his wallet and removed a family photo. “These are your grandsons, Dad. They’ll be four in February. We named them Jason and Nathan.”
The businessman took the photo with a trembling hand. “I have grandsons,” he said, sounding utterly dazed as he focused on the picture. “Two four-year-old grandsons. We do have a lot to catch up on, John.”
“My twin terrors,” John said, his voice wry. “Nate is a sweetheart, like his mother, but Jason, Jason is a carbon copy of me.” He grinned at his shaken father. “And you.”
While their guests enjoyed the meal, the three sisters slipped out to the parlor to exchange gifts. Each was delighted by the others’ thoughtful and appropriate presents.
Louise’s last gift to Jane was the photograph she had taken from her school album and carefully framed.
“This is from your first Christmas with us,” she explained. “I believe Father took this on Christmas Eve, after I’d gotten up to give you your bottle.”
Jane studied the old black-and-white photo, which showed a teenage Louise sitting in an old rocking chair and holding a tiny, dark-haired baby against her heart. Both Louise and the baby were asleep, a bottle of formula resting on Louise’s lap. Both faces were filled with peace.
“This is really me and you?”
Louise nodded. “I wanted you to kno
w what got all of us through the year after Mother died. It was you, Jane. Taking care of you and watching you grow helped us to heal. We treasured you.”
“How could we not? Look at the baby in that picture.” Alice’s voice grew soft. “You were so little and helpless, and yet you brought so much joy back into this house. Just as you do now.”
Their sister seemed shaken. “I never looked at it that way.”
“I have one more gift for you too. Thank heavens the power came back.” Alice handed her a small wrapped box that contained an unmarked cassette tape, and plugged in a small tape player. “You have to listen to it.”
“Did you record some of Louise’s music for me?” Jane asked as she popped the tape in and pressed play. “Because I really like that Haydn—” she fell silent as a pleasant, mellow male voice began speaking.
“Praise the Lord, for bringing us together tonight.”
“Oh, my Lord!” Jane went completely white and the baby photo fell from her fingers onto her lap. “Is that … that’s Dad.”
“In a few hours it will be Christmas, brothers and sisters. This is the holiest of nights and it all began thousands of years ago, when some poor shepherds made an incredible discovery.” Daniel Howard’s voice grew rich with emotion and wonder. “They were given the news that a Savior was born unto mankind, a Savior who had brought love and hope back to the world.”
Alice saw Jane reach out and take Louise’s hand in hers.
“Can you imagine what it was for them, those shepherds in the fields, to look up and see the heavenly host praising the Lord? To learn that God loved us so much that he gave to us His only Son? Angels must have filled the entire sky. Light like nothing man had ever seen illuminated the world, for on this night God threw open the gates of heaven.
“On the night Christ was born, I believe it must have been like having heaven right here on earth. Until that moment, heaven had been beyond our reach, but now it was attainable. Those shepherds must have felt as if they could reach out and touch the face of God.
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