Home?
So soon?
There was no home.
Momentary panic set in; then she remembered Jed’s promise. His mother bustled in right then, as if it was meant to be. “Home in the morning? How wonderful, Mia! We’ll have an old-fashioned Christmas, complete with a baby. I don’t think things could possibly get better than this, do you? How are you, darling?” She crossed the room, gave Mia a hug, and beamed. “Jed said you did absolutely marvelous and he’s caught up at the store, but he wanted a progress report. He’ll be thrilled to know you’re coming home.”
Except it wasn’t home. She didn’t really have a home because she’d stubbornly refused to make final decisions until Josie was tucked safely into her arms. So here she was with a baby and nothing in readiness. She’d foolishly let fear run her life.
She was a smart, educated woman. Why would she do that?
“And you’re not to worry about a thing,” Deanna Taylor promised. “We’ve got all the bases covered. And Mia . . .”
She paused as Mia’s father walked into the room.
Mia pulled the baby closer in a protective move. She didn’t want the miracle of her child sullied by the reality of her father. She held her breath, wishing he’d leave. His presence brought back a decade of harshness.
Seeing him, she didn’t want any part of Josie’s life stained by his behaviors. How could she possibly stay here and deal with his presence in their small town?
“She’s a cute little thing.”
The normalcy of his voice surprised her, which meant he’d made an effort to stay sober.
“You sat with old Joe last night.”
She nodded.
“I know he gave you a couple of things.” When she nodded, Ray folded his arms. “He left me some money. His money,” he added, as if there were another kind. “To go away and get a new start. I didn’t want you surprised by the will or nothing, even though it seemed kind of wrong and right the way he did it.”
He was leaving?
Hope stirred within her, but it was darkened by shame, too, because why couldn’t they just be a normal, loving family?
“He figured I might do better to get away from here.”
“Joe was a smart man,” Deanna said. “Always looking ahead.”
“I brought you this.” He handed Mia a tiny jeweler’s box. “I’ve kept it a long time, and shoulda given it to you before, but I didn’t. It was your mother’s and she wore it every day.”
A tiny heart locket on a gold chain lay in the box. When Mia opened the locket, there was a tiny image of her . . . an image that looked remarkably like the baby in her arms . . . and a picture of her mother, alongside.
“I was a jerk for keeping it. Maybe if I get a fresh start someplace, I can learn to not be a jerk.”
Her heart stirred.
Peace.
Forgiveness.
Patience.
Family.
Angel had talked about it. So did Celia, as if the simplicity of those things marked the way.
She stared at the locket, a concrete symbol of her mother’s love, but even more than that was Mia’s father’s sober admission.
He wanted to do better.
So did she.
She swallowed hard, gripping the gold locket. “Can you stay here and be less grumpy?”
He frowned as if he didn’t understand, or maybe he didn’t dare to understand.
“I think Mom would want us to try harder. Both of us.”
He shook his head instantly and Mia was pretty sure he’d set his mind to leaving, but his next words surprised her further. “Don’t take any of this on you. It wasn’t your fault. I was a user. I’m not now, haven’t been in a while, but I caused a lot of sadness. You. Old Joe. Pauline and Si. Maybe I don’t deserve to stay. I’ve been thinking along those lines mostly.”
It wasn’t about deserving, Celia had said. It was about faith, hope and love.
Mia looked down at the sleeping infant in her arms. “God gave me the opportunity to know a grandpa’s love. To be cherished by him, to laugh with him and cry with him. I’d like Josie to have the same chance, Dad. If you think it won’t mess up your chances to stay straight.”
“I’ve been doing good. No slips in over two years.”
Straight and sober for two years.
She’d worked the E.R. for long enough to know how rare that was. She motioned to the chair under Deanna’s smile of approval. “Well, then, I think you should sit down and meet your granddaughter, don’t you?”
“You mean, like hold her?” Ray Folsom didn’t just look surprised by the offer. He looked flabbergasted.
Deanna stooped low beside him. “I’ll give motherly advice.”
He took a seat nervously, but when Deanna lowered the bundled baby into his arms his gaze softened. “She’s a pretty little thing, ain’t she?”
“Beautiful.”
“She looks like you did.” He raised his eyes to Mia’s and couldn’t know what his words truly meant. She’d have doubted he remembered her existence, much less what she looked like, as a baby. “Same little face, peeking up, like she’d like to ask a worldful of questions once she can.”
Mia was exactly like that, and the analogy made her smile.
“I made it hard when I lost the answers for so long, though. I’m real sorry about that, Mia.” Regret shadowed his features as he gazed at the baby. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind my stayin’? Because Joe thought if you ever came back, it might be better if I was someplace else.”
Grandpa, looking out for her, always wanting to help. “If you think it won’t make things too hard on you, then yes. I’d like a chance to start over.”
“Well, then.” She thought he blinked away tears, but his gaze was downturned. He swept a hand to his eyes as he cradled the baby; then he smiled the first real smile she’d seen from him in a long, long time. “I expect Christmas is the best time to try.”
She couldn’t think of a better time to fix old wounds than now, or a better place than here. “I expect so, too.”
“Come to Christmas dinner,” Deanna told him. “Right around three o’clock, but it’s always late, so come early and figure on three-thirty.”
He handed the baby back to her and stood. “You don’t mind?”
“We’d be honored.”
He held tight to his hat, flustered, but he looked a little pleased, too. “All right, then. Three o’clock. Christmas. I’ll be there.” He turned Mia’s way one last time. “You did beautiful, Mia. Just like your mother.”
Her heart squeezed more open than she’d have thought possible.
She’d forgotten this Ray Folsom. He’d been gone for so long that she’d forgotten his existence. As she watched him leave, the thought of staying put and finding just the right place for her and Josie in Roslyn didn’t seem nearly as tough as she’d thought the day before.
Chapter Thirteen
December 25, Roslyn, Washington
“Best Christmas ever.” Jed came up behind her as she navigated more snaps than she would have thought possible on such a tiny garment. “You must be exhausted, Mia. I can change her. Go sit.”
“Those big hands and this tiny baby?” She slanted a look up at him, a look that almost got her kissed, then and there.
“Kate’s tenacious. She made me learn. Now I’m glad I did. Go sit down and I’ll bring her right over.”
“A wise nurse never stands when she can sit.” She let him take over and curled up on the sofa. The rest of the family had congregated in the big family room, allowing her privacy to nurse the baby in relative quiet. “It’s beautiful here, Jed.”
“It’s a house meant for family. When things settle down, I’ll take you around the corner to see my place.”
“I’d love that. I’ll be interested to see what kind of house tempted you away from your mother’s kitchen.”
“Yeah?” He tucked the baby into his arm as naturally as he used to hold a football. “It’s a wo
rk in progress, but I’d love to have a couple of solid reasons to finish things up this winter.”
Two solid reasons. Her . . . and this precious newborn. A man who seemed willing to accept another man’s child. Beyond Jed was the family Nativity scene, where a tiny light pooled around a caring figure of Joseph, watching over a child not his own.
“I did some research you might find helpful. The Ellensburg hospital is a thirty-three-minute drive. Urgent care and Roslyn Clinic are both about eight minutes from here.”
“You’re that anxious to put me back to work?”
He settled onto the seat next to her and shook his head. “I’m that anxious for you to stay, so if I can remove any barriers from that decision, I’ll do it.” He swept a finger across his phone. “Look what Angel sent me today.” He held up a picture of G-G Jude, Brad, and Ivy, surrounded by a young family. “Jude has reconciled with her granddaughter. All is calm. All is bright. A Merry Christmas in Heywood.”
The picture meant that the letters Mia had written for Jude had been well received. The old woman’s resolve had changed the lives of two small children. “I’m so glad!”
“Me, too. It was the best trip I’ve ever taken, Mia.”
The man had flown and driven half the country or more, doing cattle deals and buying for the store. “You’ve been everywhere, Jed.”
“Here and there,” he admitted. “I’ve hauled a lot of cargo in my time, but nothing as precious as this past week. That’s a trump card right there.” He leaned forward and caught her lips in a tender kiss. “Merry Christmas, Mia.”
The kiss lingered and grew, and when he broke the kiss she reached up her free hand to cup his bristled cheek. “The best Christmas I’ve ever had, Jed.”
His lazy grin promised more to come. “So far,” he corrected her softly, his lips hovering just above hers. “The best Christmas you’ve had so far. Here’s hoping for many more.”
Faith. Hope. Love. Trust. All the elements she’d been missing, now gathered around her.
She smiled against his mouth and kissed him lightly. “I’d love that, Jed Taylor.”
He sighed, smiling, and stroked her cheek one more time. “Me, too.”
About the Author
Multi-published, bestselling author Ruth Logan Herne is living her dream in upstate New York where dreaming of a White Christmas is reality! Married with a lot of kids and even more grandkids, Ruthy has over a million books sold, with more to come. She loves God, her family, her country, dogs, cats, chocolate, and coffee and has learned that the simple gifts of Christmas are best. Faith, hope, sharing, cookies, eggnog, and hot chocolate with some great Christmas romances thrown in. (sigh . . .) Visit her at ruthloganherne.com or friend her on Facebook where she loves to talk, play, and pray with readers.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Author
’Tis the season for second chances!
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
“Silent Night, Star-Lit Night” copyright © 2016 by Ruth Logan Herne.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover art of Snowy Country Scene, Wings, Snowflakes © shutterstock
eISBN 978-1-250-12013-7 (ebook)
First eBook Edition: October 2016
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