by Glynna Kaye
“Wish I could help out but, yeah, it’s been a rough year,” the owner of the local ice-cream shop continued. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t even blame all those artists in town for this one. According to the Chamber of Commerce’s findings, they actually drew even more business to Hunter Ridge last summer than the one before. Go figure.”
He chuckled. It was nice he could find humor in the fact that his outgo had nearly exceeded his income.
“I heard it was unusually cool late in the summer,” she commiserated.
“It was, it was. Near-record rainfall, too. So folks were looking for something to warm them up rather than cool them down. I hear eateries with a fireplace or woodstove did a booming business.”
“Well, thank you for your time. I hope things go better for you next year.”
She returned the cell phone to her purse, then surveyed the knotty pine–walled, open-plan space—living room, kitchen, dining area—remembering it as much bigger than it was in actuality. Yes, there were two small bedrooms and an attic room that stretched the length of the cabin, but how had Grandma and Grandpa packed them all in here when Mom and Dad, her sisters, and other friends and relatives gathered for a weekend or longer?
It had been a comfy, kid-friendly retreat, with two sofas and several rockers. Folding card tables leaned against the wall for playing games at night. A bookcase filled with classics had welcomed them on a rainy day. And next week the now-silent rooms would be filled once again. But how did her sisters expect her to replicate for their children the delightful Christmases they remembered?
She wasn’t Grandma.
A touch of melancholy permeated as she moved to the front window to watch snow flurries dancing through the early-afternoon air. Maybe her sisters were right. She was becoming a Grinch. And so much for the phone calls she’d made, trying to drum up a bit of Christmas spirit among potential donors—and within herself. An hour’s worth of effort down the drain when she had too many other things to attend to.
“Where,” she mumbled aloud, “is all the good cheer and generosity characteristic of the season?” No doubt she’d have had more success with her calls two weeks ago, before credit card bills from Black Friday purchases started rolling in.
She glanced over at the stack of Christmas decoration boxes she’d dragged out of the attic last night, but hadn’t the heart to open. It hadn’t been her intention to decorate during the brief time she was in town, but with her nieces and nephew coming next week and her sisters anticipating a nostalgic sojourn to the good old days, they clearly expected a little effort on her part.
Maybe if she wasn’t trying to manage the church project, clean the cabin and prayerfully sort through her tumultuous life, she could handle a little holiday festivity for the kids. Maybe. Playing hostess wasn’t one of her God-given gifts.
“How did I get myself into this?” Her voice reverberated through the raftered, wood-floored space.
No thundering voice from Heaven responded to her plaintive query. But then she already knew the answer to how she’d gotten saddled with the Christmas project—and unwed mothers of all things. It came down to the unfortunate fact that she was still infatuated with Garrett McCrae. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. She was too old for crushes, especially on someone who’d made it clear that kissing her had been the worst mistake of his life.
Are you kidding me? Kissing Jodi would be about as thrilling as kissing our Labrador retriever. And she’d probably double up her fist and belt the first guy who tried.
Her breath caught at the still-vivid memory. After a heart-soaring kiss only a short while earlier, she’d overheard him joking with his buddies later that same night, after the Christmas Eve service. One of them—Richard?—had mumbled something she didn’t catch, and Garrett’s mocking response brought a round of laughter that she could still hear. Could still feel the hot waves of humiliation that had coursed through her.
Thankfully, neither Garrett nor any of the others had seen her, and shaking all the way to her core, she’d slipped silently away. But it cut deep, making it the worst Christmas of her whole life. The worst, that is, until she lost a baby to miscarriage four years ago this very month.
Looking back now, she recognized that she’d allowed overhearing Garrett and the laughter of the other boys to set her up for a fall when, not too many years later, Kel O’Connor blarneyed her—and her rickety self-image—right into his arms and into his bed.
Jodi clenched her fists. She was not going to think about Kel right now. Or Garrett. Not even Anton, although he was an innocent party in all of this.
As she took a step away from the window, she glimpsed an SUV making its way up the pine-lined lane to the cabin. Garrett. What was he doing here? He hadn’t said anything about stopping by.
There was someone in the seat beside him, too. Sofia? No, thankfully it was Dolly. Sofia, although seemingly as sweet as could be, was one of those women who made her overly aware of her own shortcomings in the domesticity department. Those cookies she’d delivered while Jodi was at the church hadn’t looked store-bought, but what exactly was her relationship with Garrett that she was stopping by his office in the middle of the morning? Hadn’t he mentioned on Sunday that she worked someplace full-time?
“This is a surprise,” Jodi said as she ushered her guests in from the cold.
“I told Dolly about the bargain I’d made with you.” Garrett unlooped what looked to be a hand-crocheted scarf from around his neck—Sofia’s work?—and hung it on the coatrack by the door. His jacket joined it. “You know, how if you helped with the Christmas project, I’d see that you got assistance cleaning this place.”
“He bullied you into cleaning, Dolly?” Jodi gave Garrett a look of reprimand as he helped the older woman off with her coat. He’d said earlier that he’d have high schoolers pitch in, not drag one of her grandma’s friends into it.
“In case you haven’t noticed, he’s more of a sweet-talker than a bully. Which is why we’ve been delighted to have him heading up Christ’s Church’s ministry.” His landlady smiled at him with affection in her eyes. “I told him I’d be happy to help, and he suggested we find out firsthand exactly what you need to have done.”
“Well...” Jodi looked around the space somewhat helplessly. A housekeeper came in once a week in Philly while she was at work, so she wasn’t certain what all might be involved in that vaguely mysterious process. Kind of like the baffling nuances of home cooking—that’s what delis and restaurant takeout were for, right? “Mom and Dad haven’t been here this year, so everything’s dusty. And they said they haven’t done deep cleaning in years. I’ve found more than a few cobwebs.”
Which she was not touching.
“Cobwebs?” Garrett’s eyes gleamed. “That must have made your day.”
“Funny.” She gave him a smirk, then offered an explanation to Dolly. “When we were kids Garrett talked me into going first when we were exploring one of the attic spaces under the eaves, knowing full well spiders had strung their sticky webs across our intended path.”
She shuddered at the memory, and Garrett laughed.
“That’s our Garrett.” Dolly shook her head in amusement. “Is it okay, Jodi, if I take a look around? That will give me an idea of what type of cleaning supplies I need to bring.”
“Look to your heart’s content. And I’ll pay for any supplies.”
Dolly disappeared in the direction of the bedrooms and bath. One bathroom. How on earth would her family get through next week in a packed house?
Garrett clapped his hands together. “So, how’s it going with the project? Have you drummed up any donations?”
Jodi rubbed her hands up and down her sweatered arms to warm herself up. Another thing she’d need to get—firewood. “I made a few calls with little to show for it.”
As in nothing.
“I plan
to hit it hard this afternoon,” she continued, unwilling to admit defeat. “But I may call Melody first. See if she has any tips.”
“I remember her saying that some years she’d get more of one thing than another and had to fill in for what came up short.”
This year might take a lot of supplementing if the results of the initial phone calls were an accurate gauge.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
His attention abruptly focused across the room. “Hey, what’s all this? Christmas decorations?”
Before she could stop him, he covered the distance to the holiday-designed boxes, crouched down, and popped the lid off one. “Oh, wow. I remember this.”
He carefully lifted out a rustic-looking wooden crèche, a good eighteen inches tall and a maybe two feet wide. “This sat on the console table over there, didn’t it? And baby Jesus never put in an appearance in the manger until Christmas morning.”
“You have a good memory.”
She moved to stand beside him as he continued to rummage, reaching in for the Bubble-Wrapped wooden figurines and freeing them from their plastic-encased confines one at a time.
“Remember the year we nearly ransacked this place trying to find where your grandma hid baby Jesus so we could kidnap him?”
“You thought Grandma would pay the ransom in chocolate chip cookies.”
“Brats, weren’t we?” He lifted up a black-bearded wooden figurine, a wise man cloaked in a turquoise robe. “This guy, he was my favorite. Remember how we’d march them around, making them talk about the star and going in search of baby Jesus?”
“And got them into Star Wars battles along the way.” She knelt down beside him and picked up one of the sheep. She hadn’t seen this nativity set since she left for college. Since before they stopped coming to Hunter Ridge for Christmas when Grandma’s health deteriorated.
Frowning, Garrett pawed through the plastic.
She placed the sheep down next to the other pieces. “What are you looking for?”
He dug around a bit more, then sat back on his heels, a solemn look on his face. “Sorry you lost your baby, Jodi.”
Her breath caught, a wave of cold flooding her body as her gaze flew to his. How did he—
“Hey, Jode, don’t look so distraught.” He patted her arm in consolation. “I’m sure baby Jesus will turn up by Christmas Day. He always did, didn’t He?”
Chapter Five
“Hey, isn’t that Jodi over there, coming out of Dix’s Woodland Warehouse?”
At his friend Drew Everton’s words, Garrett’s attention jerked from the menu at Camilla’s Café in nearby Canyon Springs, and he turned to stare out the snowflake-decorated window by their table. It was Jodi all right, bundled against the cold in what looked to be a new turquoise jacket. New knee-high boots, too, which complemented her shapely, jeans-clad legs. As always, that long red-gold hair was an identity giveaway.
“Yeah. That’s her.” He once again studied the menu in his hands, unwilling to analyze why his heart rate had picked up a notch.
Inching his wheelchair forward, Drew reached across the table to flatten Garrett’s menu on the table with the palm of his hand.
Startled, Garrett looked into the amused expression of his longtime friend. “What?”
“You are such a loser.”
“What do you mean?” He pried the menu out from under Drew’s fingers.
“Jodi. She’s back in town after all these years, and you’re determined to play it cool.”
“There’s nothing to play it cool about. Jodi and I are friends. Nothing more.”
“Only because you’re too dense to make it something more. The last time she came back to town when we were seniors in high school, she was a tomboy caterpillar that crawled out of its chrysalis as a beautiful butterfly. And don’t tell me you didn’t notice or I’ll call you out as a liar, Pastor.”
“Her transformation would have been a little hard not to notice,” he conceded. “But Jodi and I’ve been pals since early grade school. I don’t think either of us has ever seriously considered the other to be a romantic interest.”
That wasn’t a lie—as long as seriously was thrown in there.
Drew shook his head as he picked up his own menu. “You were so tied up in knots back then when the other guys caught a glimpse of her at the Christmas Eve service, it was laughable.”
He had been. Richard was practically drooling and egging the rest of them on to see who could steal a kiss first. He’d had to do some quick thinking to remind them that Jodi was still Jodi—and likely still capable of defending herself. Not that she’d tried to defend herself from him earlier that night, although she probably wished she had.
“I was caught off guard, that’s all. Don’t tell me you weren’t.”
Drew snickered. “And you’re still caught off guard? Is that the excuse you’re going to give for letting her walk out of your life again?”
“I told you, Jodi and I—”
“Hey—” Drew nodded toward the window. “There she is again. Go catch her. Invite her to join us for lunch.”
“I don’t think—” He didn’t relish the idea of her and Drew becoming reacquainted. Sooner or later the topic of how he’d sustained his life-altering injury would come up, and she’d realize her long-ago concerns about her childhood pal’s bent toward high jinks and risk taking had sucked Drew into its whirlpool.
“Go get her, Garrett. You know I can’t dash across the street.” Drew leaned forward. “And if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Since you aren’t interested in her, maybe I am.”
Didn’t Drew have enough gals fawning over him already? Enough that, as Garrett knew, it put one sweet little gal who had a serious interest in him at a disadvantage.
Irritated and not meeting his friend’s gaze, he got up and stepped outside—coatless—then jogged across the street to the tune of a jolly holiday song played from strategically placed overhead speakers. He met up with Jodi as she reached Rio’s truck.
“Garrett, what are you doing here? And where’s your coat? It’s freezing.”
He wouldn’t argue with that, but her smile, as always, warmed him.
“I’m having lunch with Drew. We get together every few weeks for guy talk. How about you? Shopping?”
“I am. How do you like the boots?” Gripping a colorful shopping bag in one hand and her purse in the other, she lifted her foot and turned her ankle this way and that to show them off. “Those old ones at the cabin weren’t quite my style.”
“Nice.”
“Shopping is a sideline, though.” The wind ruffled her hair, the red-gold glinting in the sunshine. “I actually came over to meet with my Canyon Springs Christian Church counterparts on the Christmas project—Kara Kenton and Meg Diaz, along with the pastor, who is Kara’s brother-in-law. I felt a little nervous the whole time, though—Kara looks like her own expected baby could put in an appearance any minute now.”
“Maybe she’ll have a Christmas delivery.” He rubbed his chilled hands together. “How’s the project doing here?”
“Great. I have to admit I’m jealous. I made a few more calls yesterday after you and Dolly left, and several said they’d already donated baby stuff to the project not that long ago. I was under the impression it was significantly more than that package of diapers we found in the storeroom.”
“Melody may have gotten an emergency call and felt it best not to hold back, thinking she could easily make it up with additional donations.” His office assistant had a big heart and didn’t like to see anyone in need. “Have you talked to her?”
“I left a message, but no, not yet.”
“Well, don’t worry too much about it. You’re barely getting started.” He glanced back toward the café where he knew Drew would be watchi
ng his every move. “Hey, I don’t know what your plans are for the rest of your day, but Drew and I were wondering if you’d be our lunchtime guest. We’d just sat down when we spied you across the street.”
At least his old buddy wouldn’t talk about his injuries in front of Garrett. He could be counted on to dodge questions if Jodi asked him outright. Oddly, he and Drew seldom talked about the day they’d been goofing off along the river that had carved out the depths of the Grand Canyon. About how Garrett should have known better. Been more responsible. After all, he was the experienced river guide—one who’d badgered his buddy into a rafting trip.
“I still have a lot to do this afternoon, but that would be wonderful.” Her smile widened as she stowed her bag in the truck. “I’d been hoping to touch base with Drew while I’m here.”
She had? Guess I’ll play chaperone then. My good deed for the day. But the thought didn’t please him.
Inside the cheerfully decorated restaurant and out of the cold, he helped her off with her coat. She left her woolen scarf draped around her neck as he pulled out a chair for her between him and Drew.
“So what have you been doing with yourself since high school, Drew?” She smiled up at a waitress who handed her a menu.
“College first, then missions work around the globe—predominantly in the Middle East, a region I’ve long had a heart for. Emergency relief. Digging wells.”
“Wow.”
“Of course, that was before this.” He rapped his knuckles on the arm of his wheelchair, and Garrett winced. “Now I’m active in missions support for quite a few ministries.”
Jodi tilted her head in interest. “What’s that involve?”
“Prayer, first off.” Drew set aside his menu to give her his full attention. “Then constant communication. Developing newsletters targeted to supporters, arranging travel, setting up sabbatical schedules and overseeing home-front things like financial assistance for missionary kids who are nearing college age.”