by Marta Perry
Her breath caught in her throat, and she nodded. “We could.” She led the way to the sliding glass doors, and they stepped out onto the deck.
She crossed to the railing, looking out at the ocean, shimmering under a nearly full moon. The dark sky clustered with stars, so bright it seemed she should feel their heat on her face when she looked up. The breeze touched her skin, and the sand stretched out pale and empty below the deck. If she listened, she could hear the wind rustling in the sea oats in the dunes and the murmur of the waves on the shore, in and out in an endless progression.
God seemed very near, and she felt a flood of gratitude.
Travis stood next to her, his hands on the railing. He didn’t speak. He just looked out at sea and sky. But his hands clenched the rail until the veins stood out. He took a breath, audible in the stillness.
“You know, if there’s anything I’ve learned through all this, it’s the folly of keeping silent when something needs to be said.”
It was almost an echo of what he’d told Kyle two nights ago. If he hadn’t spoken then, they might all still be caught in a web of indecision over how to help the boy.
“Yes,” she said when he didn’t immediately go on. “I think you’re right.” She wanted to help him, but she didn’t know how.
“For a long time I thought God had forgotten about me. It took coming here, being with all of you, to help me begin listening again. To find out that I was the one who’d moved away, not God.”
“I’m glad,” she said softly. If this knowledge was all she’d ever have of Travis, it was enough. “I’ve done a bit of learning myself. Realizing how foolish I was to close my heart because of someone who didn’t care two pins about me. Realizing how fortunate I am to be in the place God wants me, doing the work He has for me.”
“You told me something once that your grandmother said.” He turned to face her, and her heart lurched. “That the past is for learning from, not for living in. I guess both of us had to find that out.”
She nodded, her heart beating so fast that she didn’t think she could trust herself to speak.
Travis took her hands in his, and his were warm and strong and protecting. His intent gaze probed her face. “We haven’t known each other very long. Maybe you think it’s too soon. But I don’t have any doubt, Annabel. I know I love you.”
Joy filled her, flooding through every separate cell of her body. This was what God had for her—the chance to love this man.
“I haven’t known you long,” she said. “But I know you through and through. And I know myself, as well. I love you, Travis McCall. I want to spend every Christmas of my life with you.”
His arms went around her waist, and the love in his eyes took her breath away. “Every Christmas,” he echoed. “Together.” He bent, his warm breath crossing her lips. “Merry Christmas, Annabel. Merry Christmas.”
Dear Reader,
After writing three books about the Bodine family of South Carolina, I am so delighted to have the opportunity to share a Christmas story about them with you. If you have read the other books, I hope you’ll enjoy visiting with some of the characters again.
Annabel Bodine is the twin sister of Amanda, whose story I’ve already told. While I don’t know what it’s like to be a twin, I do know how close sisters can be, despite the fact that they can also be very different. I hope you’ll enjoy getting better acquainted with Annabel, as she finds that love can meet her at Christmastime. Many of the details about Christmas events related to real activities in the Charleston area, and if you ever have the opportunity to visit Charleston at the holiday season, I hope you’ll take it!
Please let me know how you felt about this story, and I’d love to send you a signed bookmark and my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can write to me at Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279, e-mail me at [email protected] or visit me on the Web at www.martaperry.com.
Blessings,
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Can you understand why Travis was hesitant about sharing the Bodine family Christmas? Can you imagine how complicated his feelings about Christmas must be?
Annabel struggles with doubts about herself. Do you think her broken engagement is solely responsible for that? What else might contribute to her feelings?
Travis is so caught up in his anger over what happened to him in the past that he can’t see his present clearly. How do you deal with it when you can’t forget a hurt?
The Scripture verse for this story is one of my favorites. It never fails to strike awe in me when I say those words. What does it mean to you to know that you are a child of God?
Annabel tends to be shy in many situations, but she finds courage for the sake of the hurting children she helps. Have you ever found you’re able to do things for others that you couldn’t for yourself?
Miz Callie, the grandmother, is a voice for faith in all of the Bodine stories. Do you think you have someone in your life whom you can count on to be that?
With God’s help, Annabel and Travis grow free of past hurts, able to love again. Are there any past hurts that hold you back in your life? What might you do about that?
THE GINGERBREAD SEASON
Betsy St. Amant
To my parents, for pointing me toward the true meaning of Christmas and making each holiday season special.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to my husband, for not giving me too many weird looks for humming Christmas carols under my breath while I wrote this in early autumn, and to my sweet baby girl, for happily watching cartoons while Mommy worked on the laptop you still aren’t allowed to touch.
As always, thanks to my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, for being the world’s greatest cheerleader and to my editor, Emily Rodmell, for your brainstorming and pushing to dig deeper.
Also, thanks to my grandmother Marie, for being an avid reader and patiently listening to all my various drafts of this story during those four-in-the-afternoon phone calls, and to Lori, for helping me throw candy canes—and eggs—as needed.
Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
—Luke 2:10–11
Chapter One
The setting winter sun highlighted the familiar welcome sign in hues of pink and gold, ushering Allie James back into small-town life. The faded, carved stone greeting hadn’t changed in the year since her last visit. Welcome to Ginger Falls, Kansas—Population 7,504. A grossly inaccurate count, as at least a fourth of those people had taken refuge in the neighboring big cities years ago, much like Allie had.
She brushed her curly dark hair from her face as she drove into the town’s official limits—and straight into a blast from the past. The square was closed up for the night—what few shops were still open on Sunday, anyway—but Ginger Falls looked more like a ghost town than the thriving small community it’d once been. The red-and-white awning where she’d tossed her sister’s favorite doll and gotten grounded for a week still hung over Jackson’s Barbershop, but the white was more of a dirty yellow after years of wear. A laminated Closed sign hung on the door, and the windows were boarded up. Same with Bebe’s Boutique.
And the gazebo. Allie slowed down as she passed the once glorious structure in the center of Ginger Falls. The pristine white columns were stained and worn, the bench where many sat telling secrets or pledging love, crippled and broken. Ignored, forgotten.
She leaned on the accelerator and sped past the bad memories.
Some were better off ignored, forgotten.
A few minutes later, Allie left Ginger Falls in her wake and hit the country highway leading to her parents’ house. The dark road snaked through a wide expanse of wheat fields, a shadowy intruder against the sea of plants tinted silver with frost. Allie’s childhood home, smack in the middle of the state’s largest Christmas-tree farm, beckoned even fro
m miles away, a safe harbor in the midst of the chaos churning in her mind. She wasn’t the first twenty-eight-year-old to lose her job and move back home—but that didn’t ease the rock of regret in her stomach. If she’d listened to her parents’ advice and accepted that position at the consulting firm in Kansas City instead of working at an independent bookstore, she might still have a job—and an apartment.
Now she had neither.
Allie exited the highway and turned down the long gravel road. Her two-door car bumped along and rattled her teeth. She wished for the shock-absorbing truck she used to drive as a teenager. She steered around a pothole and winced. Those memories weren’t any better, because like the gazebo, most of her thoughts about her old truck also centered on Jordan Walker. Carpooling to school their senior year, driving through the trails of the Christmas-tree farm on her parents’ property, sitting on the tailgate under the stars. Everyone told Allie growing up that her senior year would fly by, but she hadn’t realized how true that was until she looked up one day after graduation and realized she’d fallen for Jordan even faster.
The porch lamp of her parents’ two-story cottage shone through the twilight and illuminated the shadows as Allie pulled her car up the winding drive. She parked behind her father’s work truck and drew a deep breath. Home again. Though this time, it wasn’t because of the coming Christmas holiday. This time, it was with her tail between her legs, needing food and shelter because she was a failure. It might not directly be her fault the bookstore went under, but surely she could have done more, worked harder—something to keep her job afloat. She’d devoted several years to learning the inner workings of the business, in the hope of starting her own store one day. Now it seemed it was for nothing.
Nerves pinched Allie’s stomach as she slid out of her car and shouldered her duffel bag and purse. What would her parents think of her? Her dad had every right to say “I told you so,” and her mother would probably give her that straight-lipped look that testified to all the admonitions she struggled to restrain. They’d probably be counting the dollars she could have earned by now if she’d taken the sure road instead of the risky one.
Allie shivered in the cold evening air. Might as well get it over with so they could figure out a way to make this work. She loved her parents, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that coming home would be easy on any of them. She’d almost given up hope of the business loan she’d applied for being approved back in Kansas City. It wasn’t the best time for banks to take risks, and despite her hardworking intentions of opening her own store, that’s exactly what she was. Until she could build up her savings, she had nowhere else to go but home—even if home was the very place that held all of her worst memories.
With knuckles white against the strap of her duffel, Allie made her way over the snow-dusted stepping stones toward the porch, the weight of her failures resting on her tired shoulders.
So much for having the best Christmas ever.
Allie dropped a handful of marshmallows into the mug of hot chocolate and watched them melt. She stirred it with a candy cane, her mother’s favorite holiday signature, and tried to smile.
“We missed you last Christmas.” Her father’s thick brows furrowed as he leaned back in his chair across the table. Dave James had always been a broad bear of a man, thankfully more teddy than grizzly. He shook his head. “It wasn’t the same, even with your sister, Molly, and her family here.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I hated to miss it, but I was busy with the bookstore.” The words caught in Allie’s throat, and she quickly took a sip to wash them down. The store that no longer existed—partially because of her. She waited for her dad’s disapproving comment, but he remained surprisingly silent.
Her mother, Karen, patted Allie’s arm. “This year will make up for all that. Maybe you won’t have to go back after all.”
Allie shook her head. “Mom, you know I’m only here long enough to get back on my feet. I have a life in Kansas City.” One she desperately wanted to return to. She’d escaped this town once before because of Jordan Walker and her crumbling relationship with her parents, and she wasn’t about to get sucked back into the past. At least Jordan wouldn’t be here to make this Christmas even more awkward. Last she’d heard, Jordan had started an Internet business and was enjoying his success on the West Coast. Apparently all the dreams he’d imagined for himself had come true.
While hers wasted away like the last leaves of autumn.
Her mother fluttered one hand in the air. “There’s no hurry. I’d love for you to stay. It’d give me another woman to talk to out here in the middle of the nowhere, what with Molly staying so busy with her catering business.”
Exhaling slowly, Allie counted to ten. Everything always went back to Molly—the firstborn, the favorite. The rivalry between Allie and her sister had only grown worse as they got older, mostly due to their mother’s constant, tactless comments. Of the few things Allie missed about her hometown, that definitely wasn’t one of them. “I appreciate the offer to hang around, Mom, but I’ll be heading back to Kansas City as soon as I can.” It won’t be soon enough.
“Your mother’s right. Don’t rush on our account.” Dad leaned back in his chair, the buttons of his flannel shirt straining over his burgeoning stomach. “I do, however, appreciate your being self-sufficient.”
“Used to be self-sufficient.” Allie muttered into her mug. She reached for the newspaper lying on the table in an effort to change the subject and flipped to the thin Classifieds. “Have you heard of any jobs available around town?”
Her father exhaled. “It’s a tough economy right now. You know that.”
Yes, Allie knew that—the economy was largely what caused the bookstore to close. Business slowed until the owner, Tammy, couldn’t afford to keep both Allie and the weekend help. Everything spiraled downward from there, and the attempts Allie made at advertising and marketing completely flopped—as Tammy not-so-kindly informed her the day she announced the shop was closing.
Dad took a long drink from his mug. “That’s why we’re not expecting you to blaze out of here as quickly as you think you might. These things take time.”
Time she couldn’t afford to waste. The sooner Allie landed some paychecks, the sooner she could get back to Kansas City—and more importantly, away from the reminders of her past. The gazebo flashed through her mind, and she inwardly winced.
“What’s this?” Allie pointed to an ad in the bottom corner of the paper. “Community Renewal Program Director Needs Immediate Assistant. Full-time, Temporary. Contact 555-JOBS for information.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Mom leaned forward and tapped the paper with a manicured nail. “Ginger Falls has a Community Renewal Program now. Mayor Cubley and the city council just hired a director. Apparently this man has several plans in place to revive the town. It’s just what we’ve been needing.”
Allie raised her eyebrows in surprise. From her drive through Main Street earlier, it seemed like the town needed more of a miracle than a remodel. But a job was a job. “I’ve got secretarial experience. Maybe I’ll give the job agency a call.” Hope bloomed in Allie’s heart like a holiday poinsettia. Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t turn out quite so dismal after all.
Jordan Walker shuffled through the paperwork on his desk, looking for the list of appointments he’d scheduled for the day. He was glad the new assistant the job agency hired for him would be arriving any minute, but he was more than a little embarrassed he’d misplaced the piece of paper with the woman’s name on it. She was starting not a minute too soon—his progress already threatened to be lost in a sea of disorganization. Two weeks ago, he’d rented office space on Main Street, which served as his first step in renewing Ginger Falls. The two-story complex sat abandoned these past several years after a group of lawyers moved on, and the loft was perfect space for his office. The narrow windows on the north wall offered a view of Main Street, which, on bad days, would hopefully remind him of his goal—to
restore Ginger Falls to its original glory, back to the way the town had been when he’d grown up—to the days of fellowship and camaraderie, where everyone knew everyone and children were safe to roam the streets and eat ice cream cones. The community desperately needed a makeover, and he was just the person to do it. His time in California had shown him the things that mattered most, and his hometown was now at the top of his priority list.
Hopefully the agency had been picky. If the two interviews he conducted himself before turning the job over to them was any indication, he’d have never gotten a decent secretary. One prospect had been fresh out of high school, and her first question was if tattoos and piercings were okay. Then during a phone interview with another prospect, he’d had to repeat himself six times because of a broken hearing aid. Neither applicant seemed to mesh with his vision for Ginger Falls. He needed someone efficient and energetic, someone who could be his partner and share the same goal for the town. Someone who believed in his dream.
“Jordan?”
His stomach flipped, and he looked at the door. But the curly haired, slim-figured image in the door frame didn’t vanish. The automatic greeting he formed stuck in his throat, and he quickly rose to his feet, legs trembling with shock. “Allie James?” He cleared his throat, drinking in the sight of his most bittersweet memory.
Her eyes, as blue as he’d always remembered, were wide as she braced one hand against the wall, as if holding herself upright. Jordan felt a little off balance himself. He squared his shoulders, trying to regain even an ounce of the professionalism that usually came so naturally. “Nice to see you.” The words sounded dry, even to his own ears. But what was he supposed to say to the woman he once thought he’d marry?