Christmas Diamond, a Novella: Inspired by The Jewel series and the Virtues and Valor series
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Christmas Diamond, a Novella
A Special Christmas Novella
Inspired by the Jewel Series
and Introducing
the Virtues and Valor series
Written by
Published at Smashwords by
Olivia Kimbrell Press
COPYRIGHT NOTICE
Christmas Diamond, a Novella; Inspired by the Jewel Series and Virtues and Valor series
First edition. Copyright © 2013 by Hallee Bridgeman. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or recording – without express written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or broadcasted reviews. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.
Scripture quotations courtesy of the New King James Version of the Holy Bible, Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas- Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Some words and lyrics from the hymn "O Holy Night" (Cantique de Noël) composed by Placide Cappeau in 1847, lyrics by John Sullivan Dwight in 1855.
Original Cover Art and Graphics by Debi Warford (www.debiwarford.com)
SPECIAL SMASHWORDS EDITION
PUBLISHED AT SMASHWORDS BY:
Olivia Kimbrell Press*
P.O. Box 4393
Winchester, KY 40392
ISBN-13: 978-1-939603-14-2 (Olivia Kimbrell Press)
ISBN-10: 1-939603-14-5/p>
EBook ISBN: 978-1-939603-13-5 (Olivia Kimbrell Press)
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, places, locales or to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or publisher. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
*Olivia Kimbrell Press is a publisher offering true to life, meaningful fiction from a Christian worldview intended to uplift the heart and engage the mind.
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND: TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND COPYRIGHT NOTICE
DEDICATION
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND - CHAPTER 1
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND - CHAPTER 2
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND - CHAPTER 3
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND - CHAPTER 4
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND - CHAPTER 5
CHRISTMAS DIAMOND - CHAPTER 6
TRANSLATION KEY
INSPIRED BY REAL EVENTS
READER'S GUIDE READER'S GUIDE DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
READER'S GUIDE MENU Mini Tuna-Avocado Parfait with Florida Grapefruit Juice
Key West Style Baked Grouper
Cauliflower Cilantro Rice
Key Lime Pie
More Great Christian Fiction VIRTUES AND VALOR SERIES EXCERPT: TEMPERANCE'S TRIAL
THE JEWEL SERIES EXCERPT: SAPPHIRE ICE
EXCERPT: GREATER THAN RUBIES
EXCERPT: EMERALD FIRE
EXCERPT: TOPAZ HEAT
SONG OF SUSPENSE SERIES EXCERPT: A MELODY FOR JAMES
EXCERPT: AN ARIA FOR NICK
EXCERPT: A CAROL FOR KENT
Hallee the Homemaker Cookbooks Fifty Shades of Gravy
THE WALKING BREAD; THE BREAD WILL RISE!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR HALLEE ONLINE
HALLEE NEWSLETTER
DEDICATION
LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO…
MY READERS. This novella is my Christmas 2013 gift to you. I pray that it blesses you and that you enjoy your peek into the second generation of the Viscolli family, and the teaser of the upcoming Virtues and Valor series. Thank you for your dedication. Thank you especially for all of the letters, e-mails, and continued prayers. Merry Christmas
CHAPTER 1
FAITH Green shifted the bill of the cotton painter's cap on her head and squinted out at miles and miles of the Florida Keys' translucent turquoise waters. A bead of sweat rolled down her back and she couldn't help but cringe at the music emanating from the restaurant's patio speakers.
O holy night. The stars are brightly shining.
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.
She'd thought she'd adore spending Christmas in the Florida Keys. Who knew after landing on Key West less than three hours ago she could miss London's wet, cold streets as she sat on a lounge chair on a sunny beach and sipped watered-down lemonade while battling the relentless sand and humidity? After the long flight, she felt a little homesick. Even though this was business and the money was top notch, she also regretted the necessity of spending Christmas away from hearth and home.
Trying not to dwell on those thoughts, Faith looked out at the half a dozen or so brightly colored sails soaring over the water. Wind surfing looked like incredible fun to her — standing against a sail while skimming the glassy blue water, letting the sea breeze propel the vessel with amazing speed. She wondered if it was anything like flying her plane, like that feeling of freedom she felt each time she broke above cloud cover and emerged into an entirely different world. As she watched a purple and blue sail skim toward the shore, she contemplated if it would be possible to take some lessons sometime during her two-week stay.
As light as her cotton skirt was, she felt suffocated by the covering as she was so unused to the heat and the humidity. Faith stood and pulled her tank top away from her torso, hoping to let some of the mild breeze in under the fabric. Normally, she wore skirts unless she was in the air. Then she wore a near perfect replica of the Women's Auxiliary Air Force uniform her grandmother had worn in the early 1940s. The thought of wearing that, even for the coming air show, made her feel even hotter. She would definitely have to invest in some shorts while she was here.
As she slipped her brown sandals from her feet, she let her toes sink into the warm sand of the crystal white beach. It felt surprisingly good beneath her bare feet. Perhaps this was better than the icy wet London streets after all, she thought.
Faith looped the straps of her sandals over one finger while she strolled down to the water's edge. A wave washed onto shore and she started to back away from it, anticipating a chill like one would feel along the waters of County Durham. But as she looked around at the children splashing in the water, wearing only swimsuits, she let the water touch her, surprised at how warm it felt — almost like a tepid pot of tea.
With a smile, she started strolling down the beach, sticking to the packed wet sand. Christmas lights adorned the palm trees over by docks and dotting the strand. Behind her, the hotels and condominiums sported Christmas trees covered with artificial snow and decorations that spoke of snowflakes. The decor looked strangely incongruous in the eighty degree weather.
Florida. At Christmas. How amazing was this?
Faith walked down the beach taking in the sights and smells and the feel of the lapping surf covering her toes. After just a few minutes, she looked to her right and saw that she'd left the area of the hotel and now meandered along the beach that faced some private residences.
What did it take to live here? she wondered. What kind of people lived or vacationed behind those big stucco walls? Knowing the shoreline was public, she was undaunted by the private property and continued down the strand.
A giggle and simultaneous squeal caught her attention, and she turned her gaze to the back of one of the big houses and its pool and watched as a little red haired girl with wild curly hair hurled herself from a diving board whi
le a bigger teen boy followed. Unable to help but smile at the child's play, she didn't pay attention and tripped over the body that had washed onto shore right in front of her bare feet.
She landed hard on her hands, the water washing away as the wave receded. Panicked, she spun back around.
A man about her age lay on the wet sand. His eyes were closed. The skin around his lips looked blue. His skin was a deep dark tan though his face looked pale. A trickle of blood ran down his temple and mingled with his wet black hair.
He wore only a pair of turquoise swim trunks that lay low on his hips and came to the middle of his muscular thighs. She saw a strap with one end wrapped around his ankle and the other end sheared. As she looked up, the windsurf board she assumed had once been fastened to his ankle washed up on shore about twenty yards down the beach.
Faith immediately and automatically patted her pockets before she remembered she didn't yet have phone service here in America. She dropped to her knees beside him. As she laid her fingers over the artery on his neck, she yelled out. "Help! Please, help!"
Her voice came out strong and clear despite the wind and surf. Her cultured British accent sounded vibrant despite her jet lag and the surge of adrenaline that raced through her blood stream.
She found the man's pulse, but it was weak. With her right ear close to his mouth, her eyes peered down his torso. She could neither feel nor hear his breath and did not see his chest rising or falling. As she tilted his head back and placed a hand on his forehead, she called again. "Someone, please help!"
She took a deep breath and covered his blue lips with her mouth. Within a few seconds of administering mouth-to-mouth, his entire body spasmed. He rolled his head to the side and coughed up quite a bit of the ocean. Just as he caught his breath, another man approached at a run, kicking up rooster tails of sand behind his heels as he raced toward them.
Faith glanced up at the approaching man and wondered if this was her patient's twin. But as he drew quickly closer, she made out the gray in his temples and the faint wrinkles around his eyes.
"TJ!" the man gasped as he slid to his knees next to the drowning victim. The younger man he had called TJ rolled over onto his elbow and coughed up some more salt water. The older man shot her a look again, his eyes showing a hint of panic. "Che cosa è successo?"
Faith didn't realize that he spoke to her in Italian, and really didn't realize she replied in kind to his question about what happened. "Non lo so." I don't know, she explained.
The older man blinked and shook his head then looked back at the younger man. "TJ?"
TJ coughed again and reached out, patting the older man on the shoulder. "I'm … okay," he said between coughs. "Just made a real mess of it. Feel like a complete fool."
"That's because you very foolishly nearly died. That would have ruined Christmas for your mother, you know."
The older man looked back at her now. His eyes were chocolate brown and strong but also very kind. The resemblance between the two men was uncanny. Clearly they were father and son. The older man gripped his son's shoulder.
TJ grinned at his father's teasing. "I'll try to work on my timing next time I do something so reckless."
To Faith, the older man said, "Grazi. Thank you." He lifted his grip from his son and held his hand out to her. "Thank you for saving my son's life."
Faith placed her smaller hand into his large grip. The palms of his hands and his fingertips felt surprisingly calloused, as if he often swung an ax or rowed an oar. "Just glad I was here," she answered, relief in her voice.
He released her hand and placed his over his heart. "God is good," he said sincerely.
"All the time," she replied.
His teeth flashed white against his dark skin. "I am Tony. This is my son, TJ."
"Faith."
"You're British?"
"So far." She smiled. "And half Italian as well."
"You speak Italian well."
"My mother would have appreciated the compliment, Tony." Faith heard another set of footprints running on the beach and looked up to see an older blonde woman and a tall thin dark haired young woman running toward them.
"Speaking of mothers, mine is just about to have fit. Fair warning," TJ panted. "And my sister won't be calm either."
Tony smiled and gracefully stood. "She deserves to. You did stop breathing, amato figlio."
As the older man intercepted the two women, Faith looked at TJ. "I'll leave you to it."
"No, wait," TJ pleaded, reaching for her and placing a hand on her arm. "Please don't go."
He sat all the way up and looked at her. "Come back to the house. It's not every day a beautiful woman saves my life." He let go of her arm and held his hand out, palm up. "Please, join us for dinner."
Faith didn't know why she placed her hand in his but, as she did, she looked at his face. The color had returned to his lips and the skin around his eyes. He was classically handsome. Dark lashes framed dark brown eyes, and the healthy glow of his Florida tan made his skin the color of rich caramel. His hand felt warm, his palms calloused like his father's. As she smiled and nodded, he was suddenly ripped away from her grip. The blonde woman had knelt down and wrapped her arms around him before pulling him fiercely to her bosom.
"Are you insane?" She demanded, hugging him.
"I don't know what happened, Mom," he said, pulling away and putting both of his hands on her shoulders. "I bottomed out or something. Next thing I knew, the board slammed me in the head as I went down."
He reached up and gently probed his temple. "Oh, wow. That really hurts."
"We're going to the hospital. You're getting checked out," she stated, standing and holding out a hand.
"Mom —"
She held up a finger. "No. No other options. Let's go. I'll drive." As her son pushed himself to his feet, Faith saw him wobble a bit. His mother slipped an arm around his bare middle and looked at the young, dark haired woman. "Madeline, run and go find your Uncle Barry and tell him to get a car ready."
The young woman named Madeline nodded and raced back toward the private residences without a word. TJ held up a hand to forestall their movement, bent at the waist, and retched up some sea foam, one hand on his stomach and the other on his mother's shoulder. His cheeks turned bright red and Faith wondered why he would be so embarrassed.
She lifted her hand. "Hey TJ? How about you go get your head examined and I'll take a rain check on that supper?"
His face paled and his father immediately came up on his other side. "Good idea," he whispered. "But don't think I'll forget, Faith."
Faith watched him walk away between his parents and some newborn part of her hoped he didn't forget either.
CHAPTER 2
THE white lights twinkling on the Christmas tree reflected in the glass balcony doors, making the room look strangely festive despite the beach decor. Faith fanned her finger over the pine needles on the tree, admiring the decoration; seashells and sand dollars hung from pastel peach and cream colored ribbon woven through the branches of the tree. A strand of pearled beads served as tinsel and a large starfish adorned the top. Faith smiled at the creativity that went into the tree for the southern Florida hotel room.
She moved to look into the full length mirror next to the bathroom door. She ran her hands down the sides of her knee-length white dress. It was sleeveless with wide straps that came together with rhinestone clips at the shoulders. Just three days in Florida and she'd developed a healthy tan thanks to her Italian mother, and she liked the way the dress complimented her skin. She had a sheer shawl to drape over her arms, but she knew from standing on the balcony that with Florida's warm evening air she wouldn't need it for anything other than look.
She wore her black hair cropped to her chin and normally let the natural curls just go where they may. Tonight, though, she'd straightened her hair and clipped the sides back with a diamond encrusted hair clip her grandmother had given her. It gave her a daring, exotic look. She didn't often w
ear makeup, but for a dinner sponsored by the host of the air show, she applied powders and colors until her blue eyes shone and her lips had just the right amount of red.
Around her neck, she wore a simple diamond solitaire pendant that matched the teardrop earrings. She looked at her watch as she slipped on some strappy sandals and grabbed her wrap.
She rode the elevator down alone, and stepped out amidst the beautiful decorations adorning the ornate lobby. Giant golden ornaments hung suspended from the twenty-foot ceilings. In the center of the lobby, one of the biggest trees she'd ever seen indoors stood proud, gaily decorated in a theme similar to the one in her room, but with much larger decorations. A large ceramic nativity display, painted only in mother-of-pearl, sat under the tree. Joseph stood at least three feet tall, his paint shimmering under the lights.
Somehow, everything said Christmas festive despite the eighty degree weather outside. It lifted Faith's heart and made her not miss the busy London streets so much. With a smile, she approached the desk clerk.
"Do you mind if I leave my key with you? I'm afraid I didn't plan outfits well and ended up with no pockets for the evening," she said.
"Of course, Miss Green. We'll have it right here for you after the event," the clerk answered, smiling. How in the world had the desk clerk known her name? Clearly, the Viscolli Hotel Key West had earned all twenty five points of its solid five star rating.
Impressed, Faith slid her key over the mahogany counter. She crossed back through the lobby and followed the signs to the Grand Ballroom. Several sets of doors stood open, and Faith could see dozens of people milling about and could hear the sound of a stringed orchestra playing somewhere inside.