by Susan Page Davis, Darlene Franklin, Janelle Mowery, Lynette Sowell
“… Has done great things for me …” Sneeze.
“… Generation to generation …” Instead of the look of adoration appropriate to the words, Audra’s face looked bright red. Morris added a soft meow.
“… Has lifted up the humble …” When Audra lifted herarms to the heavens, her sleeve fell to her elbow. Huge red bumps appeared on her forearms.
“Stop!” Waverly called out at the same time as Alec. She dashed forward and grabbed Morris.
“… Remembering to be merciful …” Audra forced the words out through puffed lips.
Alec helped Audra sit. “Do you have an epi with you?” Audra pointed to her purse and Alec had found it and plunged it into her skin before Waverly could move.
Waverly decided the most important thing she could do was to get the offending cat as far away from Audra as possible. “I need the keys.”
Alec tossed them in her direction, and she managed to catch them while holding on to Morris. The tom blinked round yellow eyes in her direction and meowed, squirming. “Oh no you don’t.”
Jayne’s mother opened the door for them, and Waverly went to the van to grab the cat carrier. The Barncastles had returned for an extended visit until after the birth of Jayne’s baby.
When Morris saw what Waverly intended, he extended his claws and jumped out of her arms. If Mrs. Barncastle hadn’t already closed the door to the theater, he might have headed back inside, where it was warm. Soft moonlight bathed the yard, but even in bright daylight a cat could find a dozen places to hide, some of them so small not even a mouse could fit in.
All they asked Waverly to do was take care of one measly cat, and she had already lost him. She grabbed a towel, determined not to get scratched this time. “Morris. Here, kitty, kitty.” She clucked between her teeth.
Meow. Gravel skittered across the drive, near the tree guarding the entrance.
The door opened, and a square of bright light sparked highlights in Alec’s red hair. “Let me help. Chase him toward me.” He armed himself with a towel and stood near the van.
Waverly caught sight of a shadow dashing between trees and she ran toward it. Morris ran in the opposite direction, toward the main house. “We could just wait him out. Morris likes his creature comforts. He’ll get tired of being cold and hungry.” She stopped scanning for the cat. “How is Audra?”
“She should be okay. They’re meeting the doctor at the hospital. She never told anyone about her allergies.” He shook his head at the foolishness of it. “She never should have agreed to be around hay and animals.”
Waverly’s heart clenched, and she sent up a prayer for the young girl. If Alec hadn’t been there …
“Here they come.” Audra’s mother bundled her into the car and they shot through the parking lot, spewing gravel in their wake.
“Join us for some hot cocoa?” Jayne stood in the doorway, rubbing her hands together, her face lined with worry. “We need to make some plans.” Without waiting for an answer, she headed for the inn.
Waverly heard Cinnamon’s soft cry and took a step forward. “What about Morris?”
“No worries.” Alec ripped open a packet of feline delights and dropped them in his food bowl—which he left inside the cat carrier.
Conversation flowed around the kitchen table, between the various actors, the Gilberts, and other staff at the inn. Waverly focused on Cinnamon, who was passed from one willing lap to another. Cinnamon didn’t fuss, but too much attention left her exhausted.
A cell phone rang, and Jayne flipped hers open. The table fell silent. “Uh-huh. Good. I’m glad to hear it. I understand.” She closed it and looked at the gathered group. “Audra is fine. She’s going to get a breathing treatment and then she’ll probably go home.”
Waverly released the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Somehow she felt responsible for what happened, for allowing the cat to rub all that dander onto the girl’s sensitive skin.
“But we—the Barncastle—still have a problem. She can’t come back. And our first guests are arriving this weekend.”
Silence fell around the table. Then Lois, the pastor’s wife chosen for the part of Elizabeth, asked, “Who will play the part of Mary on such short notice?”
Waverly felt Jayne’s eyes upon her, willing her to volunteer, but she kept her mouth closed. Forgiven she might be, but she was still no fit role model to portray the mother of the Lord.
“I know someone who already knows every line.”
Everyone’s head turned in Alec’s direction.
“I saw her saying them tonight, right along with Audra. She needs very little rehearsal, very little at all.” He looked straight at Waverly. “What do you say?”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard tonight.” Jayne grinned.
“But the costume”—Waverly grasped at straws—“won’t fit.”
“We could hide a camel inside that costume.” Jayne brushed her worries aside. “We need you, Waverly. Please say you’ll help.”
Alec looked at her, his brown eyes sure and steady, and nodded. She drew in a deep breath. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Chapter 3
He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, just as he promised our ancestors.”
A holy hush fell over the crowd as Waverly finished reciting Mary’s song. The spotlight on her face caught the look of wonder, of adoration, of trust and wholehearted commitment that Alec knew sprang as much from Waverly’s heart as from any acting skill she possessed. He stood to his feet and brought his hands together, and soon everyone in the audience—standing room only, between inn guests as well as community members—joined him. Applause echoed as the actors returned to action, heading inside the house to prepare for the birth of John the Baptist three months later.
Next to him, Mrs. P. covered Cinnamon’s ears and glared at him. “You’ll wake her up with all that racket, and then where will Waverly be?” Alec just smiled. He felt too happy to take offense.
The night’s performance ended with Zechariah’s song after the birth of his son, John. Luke came to the front. “Please return tomorrow night, to learn what was happening back in Nazareth with Mary’s lonely fiancé.”
Alec remained seated and listened as bits of conversation drifted in his direction.
“… Felt every word.”
“… Like it really was Mary.”
Waverly would be pleased by the response to her performance.
Cold air whooshed in as people exited the building. Mrs. P. wrapped Cinnamon’s blanket more tightly around her. “How did your date with Waverly go last night?”
Date? Alec wanted to slap his head. “Uh …”
“You didn’t go?” Mrs. P. shook her head. “That poor girl paced the house for hours trying to decide what to wear, and you stood her up?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume like it had when she’d accused him of saying God didn’t create dogs.
“Things got crazy.”
“I know. Audra got sick and was whisked to the doctor. But then you drove Waverly home and you forgot about the date?” She wagged her finger under his nose. “I thought you were a better man than that, Dr. Alec Ross.”
Heat flamed in his face, probably turning it a shade to match his hair. Across the floor, he saw Waverly talking with Jayne. A shy smile lightened her ordinarily serious face.
He might have messed up the date, but he didn’t have to let tonight get away from him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an apology to make.”
Mrs. P. nodded approvingly. He heard her say, “Tell her I’ll take care of Cinnamon,” as he trotted across the floor.
Waverly removed her head shawl, allowing the cool air from the side door to flow across her overheated skin. Aside from that, she was in no hurry to change out of the soft white robe she wore. As long as she had it on, she could imagine shewas Mary, chosen by God to bear His Son. She could believe herself highly favored by God. As soon as she changed
into her street clothes, into the sweatshirt that still stretched too tight across her pregnancy-expanded body with the small stain from Cinnamon’s throw up on one shoulder, reality would crash in.
Well-wishers crowded around her. Mr. Eggers, her high school speech teacher, as tall and lanky as ever, wrung her hands between his own like an enthusiastic Bob Cratchit. “You were amazing, Waverly. I knew you were something special when you were in my class, but after this, you could find a career in Hollywood if you decide animal science isn’t for you.”
Waverly laughed self-consciously. Right. “I learned all about projecting my voice from you.”
Next the guests from the Inn—Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson? Anderson? Sanders, that was it—came forward. “We’ve heard such wonderful things about the Barncastle. But you surpassed all our expectations.”
Behind Mr. Sanders she spotted a cap of bright red hair. Alec. She fought to keep a smile on her face. Most of the guests left, and Jayne, Luke, and Andy walked in the direction of the main house, leaving her alone with Alec. He stared without speaking, his mouth opening and shutting without any sound coming through. He cleared his throat. “You were terrific tonight.”
She smiled and half-turned her face away, knowing heat had gone to her cheeks. Over his shoulder she saw Mrs. P. waving at them.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to change and get on home.” She took a step in the direction of the dressing room.
“Please, give me a moment.”
She paused.
“I’m a jerk for forgetting about dinner last night.” With each word, the color in his cheeks increased. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d like to make it up to you tonight.”
Waverly blinked. She was sure he had changed his mind, and now he was asking her out again? Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. “I need to go home with Cinnamon.” She moved another step back.
“Mrs. P. said she’ll take care of Cinnamon for a while longer. Please, Waverly. It’s important to me.”
Not again. I won’t be fooled by a man’s sweet talk, not even one as good as Doc. Over Alec’s shoulder, she caught sight of Mrs. P. heading for the exit. Her landlady winked at her and opened the door.
“Mrs. P.” Waverly ran after her, but the white robe tripped her feet and slowed her down. The older lady waved good-bye and whisked the stroller through the door before it closed behind her with a whoosh. I’m going to give her a piece of my mind when I get home.
“It looks like I need a ride home.” Waverly’s voice sounded as thin as poster board even to her own ears.
“Happy to oblige. And Joe’s Java is right on the way home.” Alec grinned. “Eggnog latte sounds pretty good about now. With a snickerdoodle cookie?”
He remembered her favorite cookie. A small piece of Waverly’s heart warmed at the thoughtfulness. “Very well.”
Alec had rarely seen Waverly so radiant, as if she carried part of Mary inside her. He pulled out a chair for her in front of the stone fireplace that drew people to Joe’s Java on cold winter days.
They each had a large cup of eggnog latte in front of them. Waverly sprinkled a dash of cinnamon into the foam on top. He wondered if her fondness for the spice had influenced her choice of her baby’s name. The shop sold cookies at half price at this time of night, so he’d bought four. Waverly broke off a piece of hers and dunked it in the latte before eating it. “Delicious. Even better than chocolate chip.” She devoured the cookie. “I’m ravenous. I didn’t know acting could work up such an appetite.”
“Do you want to get a sandwich?” Alec rose halfway out of his chair.
Waverly narrowed her eyes, considering. “Sure. One of their turkey-and-cranberry specials.”
“Be right back.” He added a bag of chips and a small fruit cup. From what he knew of Waverly, he doubted she’d eaten much all day. At least that was how she handled the stress of finals back in high school.
Her eyes widened a bit at the several items he set in front of her but she didn’t object. She bit into the sandwich and closed her eyes in appreciation. “They had nothing like this at school.”
“I know what you mean. There’s nothing like coming home.” He paused and took a sip of his latte. “But even coming home wasn’t the same for me after you left for school yourself. I always felt like something was missing.”
Color flared in her cheeks, and when she didn’t speak, he wondered if he had said too much. She raised her eyes to his. “I enjoyed seeing you when I came home during breaks, too. I know Dad was glad to have you join the practice.”
“I’m only holding down the fort until the next Dr. Coe is ready to practice medicine.” Dreams—that’s what he saw in Waverly’s face tonight. A dreamy look that lately had disappeared, replaced by resignation. If only he could help rekindle those aspirations. “You were terrific tonight, you know.”
“I knew the lines, like you said.” She felt uncomfortable with his praise. She always did.
“There’s more to a play than saying the lines. You had a—presence—on the stage. It was like hearing Mary herself.”
“I’m no Mary.” Some of the dreamy look fled Waverly’s face, and Alec wanted to restore it.
“God only created one Mary. And He only created one Waverly. That’s all He wants.”
“Yeah, but I’ve already messed up whatever perfect plan He had for me. I know God has forgiven me, but I can’t get back what might have been.”
If Alec knew a way to ease Waverly’s shame over having a baby out of wedlock, he’d do it. He’d pound it out and iron it smooth or give her a magic potion. Instead, he offered his only gift—his words, his heart. “But don’t you see, God redeems even the times we stray. Like tonight. I don’t think you would have been nearly so good playing the part of Mary if you weren’t a mother yourself.”
She looked at him as if he were crazy. She pulled the topof the potato chip bag apart and crunched on a chip. “Audra would have been better.”
The conversation had come full circle, and Alec let the subject drop. Waverly finished her food and checked her watch. “It’s getting late. Cinnamon will be getting hungry soon.” Her laughter hovered just this side of brittle, and she appeared to hear it. “But this has been nice. Thanks for taking me out.”
“Do you have time for a walk around the town square?”
She hesitated and then nodded.
They strolled down the street, their breath forming smoke rings in the cold air. The temperature hovered right around freezing. The sky was crystal clear, the stars creating a laser beam picture in the heavens. “On a night like this, I can imagine what the star of Bethlehem looked like.”
Waverly gazed upward with him. “Me, too.” The trees on the town common all had white lights, enhancing the effect of the stars overhead.
“And I imagine Mary and Joseph stared at the sky on their trip to Bethlehem. When they lay down at night, you know. And thought how big God was, and how small they were, and wondered why God had chosen them.”
“Maybe Mary even felt as unworthy as I do, although I’m only pretending to be her. She seems to accept it, without question. ‘May Your word to me be fulfilled.’” Waverly sighed. “Her faith astounds me and inspires me at the same time.” She looked down the street, in the direction of the apartments where she lived. “Faith. That’s Cinnamon’s middle name, you know.”
“That’s beautiful,” Alec said.
They sat on a bench under the trees and tipped their heads back to look at the panoply of the heavens overhead. It felt like the most natural thing in the world for Alec to rest Waverly’s head on his shoulder and put his arm around her, drawing her close. Her lips hovered oh-so-close, but he wouldn’t sample them. Not so soon. He hoped that faith, and patience, would win the day in the end.
After a while, they made their way back to Alec’s truck and he drove her the short distance to the apartment she rented over Mrs. P.’s garage.
“I had a wonderful time tonight
, Alec.” Waverly rested her hand on the door handle.
“Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
She smiled in response. “See you at the office in the morning.” Then she unlocked the door and disappeared into the house.
On most Saturday afternoons, Alec enjoyed a bit of a breather, unless one of his patients had an emergency. But he arrived at the clinic only five minutes early—already late, according to his usual practice—and a steady stream of patients arrived until 11:59, guaranteeing he wouldn’t leave until well after noon.
“This is the last one.” Waverly brought in a rabbit. “I think the problem is she’s pregnant and her owner doesn’t know she’s about to become a grandmother.” Laughter lit her eyes. “Do you mind if I lock up and leave? I was hoping to get some Christmas shopping done before the program tonight.”
“Go ahead.” Alec had hoped for a few minutes of quietchat with Waverly, but the morning onslaught had made that impossible. Transforming the stage from Elizabeth’s home to Joseph’s carpenter shop would occupy his afternoon. But he could look forward to seeing Waverly again that night.
After working on the set, Alec whipped home long enough for a bowl of hearty beef stew before returning for the evening’s performance. Today’s order of animals included a couple of chickens and a dog that traipsed everywhere under Joseph’s feet. The play didn’t really call for two animal handlers, but Alec and Waverly’s supposed expertise allowed them to watch for free. Waverly arrived about fifteen minutes ahead of time and they looked across the audience.
“There’s a lot of people here.” Waverly squinted against the bright lights overhead.
“About the same as last night.”
“The President of the United States could have been here last night, and I wouldn’t have noticed, that’s how nervous I was. I see a lot of town people.”
“While the guests at the inn have the best seats.” He pointed to the comfy chairs spread along the front.