When she finally let go, she seemed to cave in, and tears spilled unexpectedly down her flushed face. He wondered at first whether she’d been hurt. Maybe the axe had slipped. He tossed the thing aside, and it fell to the ground as he pressed her hand into his palm and splayed her fingers to investigate.
“Does this hurt?”
“What?” She sniffled. “No, I’m fine.”
But the whimper that followed told a different story. Before he could inquire further, Joanna pushed herself into his arms and collapsed against him, sobbing.
“Jo-Jo.” He wrapped her firmly in his arms. “What is it?”
“I can’t believe . . . he’s really . . . gone . . .” she managed. “Again.”
“Who?” What a stupid question. “Tuck?”
She hadn’t seen or spoken to her father in forever. Still, he supposed grief knew no logic or reason. In his own experience, grief was just . . . grief.
“I know it probably sounds stupid to you.” Her words muffled against his coat. “But I’m just so angry with him.” Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she added, “He stole so much from me. From all of us, really. From my mother most of all.”
Jed stroked the sparkly scarf that had fallen from the top of her head and slouched at her neck. “I know,” he whispered.
But did he really? Jed wasn’t sure.
She pulled back and looked up at him with weepy eyes, their color turning a bright emerald green in the sunlight. “My sisters have all these memories of him. Things they got to do together, places they went with him when we were a family. But I was the youngest. By the time we could really start making memories together, Tuck was gone. Fighting for his country instead of for his family. For me.”
Jed wiped away a stream of tears from her cheek with the thumb of his glove. “I’m so sorry, Jo-Jo.”
“The only memory I have to hold onto is this hazy recollection of riding out here on horseback, just me and Tuck, and cutting down a tree. We dragged it back, and my mother—who was like another kid at Christmastime—waited at the house with my sisters, making hot chocolate, with Bing Crosby singing on the stereo . . . and . . .” She buckled under the emotion and fell back into his arms. She almost shouted her next words. “All he left me was Christmas, Jed.” She thumped her fist against his shoulder. “Is it really so much to ask of my sisters that they give that to me just one more time?”
“No.” He hugged her to his chest. “It’s not too much to ask.”
Right there and then, Jed determined to find a way to reach out to every one of her three sisters and make sure they knew what was at stake for Joanna. They were coming home to Bluegrass Crossing for one more Christmas if he had to drag each one of them back like that tree they were cutting down for the great room in the main house.
Joanna had never been to the Bluegrass Bistro before, but she knew its setting well. When she was a kid, the beautiful antebellum estate had been a home on the historic registry. It had since been rezoned and turned into a commercial site with the name Wentworth on the sign out front.
The circular drive in front of the three-story, stately, columned brick building forked off in one direction, and Jed steered his truck around the side of the building. A hostess led them past framed photographs of Kentucky Derby winners, and Joanna paused at one of them: Dirk Mallard, the jockey who rode the Tuckers’ final entry in the Derby. Standing next to that winning stallion, Dirk’s broad smile showed the two shiny gold teeth that used to fascinate Joanna.
“Remember him?” Jed asked as he stood behind her.
“Of course.”
“Dirk went to my church for years. Passed away recently. The same cancer as Tuck.”
Her heart wrenched slightly at the thought.
The hostess circled back for them and noticed the picture that had caught their eye. “Oh, that was Dirk Mallard,” she said. “He was a local Derby winner from right here in Bluegrass Crossing. The horse farm he represented really used to be something back in the day. I don’t think they’re around anymore.” With a shrug, she added, “Right this way.”
Joanna shot Jed a grimace before following. When they reached the table, she told him, “I met your pastor, by the way. He came and invited me to church.”
“My mom mentioned. Is that something you’re interested in?”
“Maybe. At some point.”
He nodded, relieving her of her coat before pulling out her chair. “I understand. You just let me know when you’re ready, and you can come with me if you’d like.”
Once he sat across from her, Joanna smiled. “Why are you always so nice to me?”
“I’m a nice guy,” he said. “It’s just how I roll.”
She chuckled at his response, and the amusement brought unexpected relief to her soul.
“They’re known for their homemade soups here,” he said, opening his menu. “I’m partial to the broccoli cheese.”
And I’m partial to you, she thought as she unfolded a second menu.
“Broccoli.” She wrinkled her nose, and Jed laughed.
“You’ve never gotten over your aversion to broccoli?”
“I think I’ll try the vegetable beef.”
After an hour of amiable conversation combined with warm bowls of soup, thick grilled-cheese sandwiches, and glasses of sweet tea, Jed paid the check while Joanna made a quick stop in the ladies’ room. The late afternoon sky had darkened prematurely, and the wind brought with it a bitter punch.
When they drove away from the old mansion, her cache of excitement mounted again as fat snowflakes fluttered from the sky just when the truck emerged from the old covered bridge and turned toward home.
Emotion bubbled up from within her as she cried out, “Jed, it’s snowing!”
He grumbled out an attempt at sharing her enthusiasm, but unconvincingly.
Before they reached the house, Joanna spotted a strange glow on the horizon. “What is that?” she asked as Jed steered them around the curve. When the house came into full view—fully outlined in large, colorful bulbs of red, green, and white—Joanna gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes so wide at the sight that they burned. “How did—Jed, did you do this?”
He smiled at her. “I might have made a phone call while you were in the restroom. The guys and my mom did the rest.”
On the other side of the front window, another glow drew her attention. “And what’s that?”
When Jed drove up to the porch, the heavy wooden door whooshed open, and Sarah stood there smiling at them, wearing a kelly-green sweater. Soft strains of “White Christmas” wafted toward them from the inside of the house, delivered in the distinct stylings of Bing Crosby.
“Sarah, what’s going on in there?”
“I thought I’d check the strands of lights for the tree you cut down,” she replied with a broad grin. “The boys came up from the bunkhouse to help with the rest. I’ve got some hot cocoa simmering on the stove, and all the decorations are lined up in boxes in front of the fireplace, waiting for you.”
Joanna whirled around. Jed stood a few steps behind her, his face illuminated by his Cheshire cat smile, and she rushed toward him so eagerly that she almost knocked him right over.
He opened his arms, his laughter melodic, and lifted her straight off her feet. “I think you deserve another happy Christmas here,” he growled into her ear. “It’s been far too long.”
“Oh, Jed, thank you. Thank you so much.”
And without further consideration—or even one thought about the fact that his mother stood there watching them from the doorway—Joanna wrapped her arms around Jed’s neck and planted several quick kisses on both cheeks. She felt his entire body turn rigid as he slowly, carefully lowered her to the ground, and set her on her feet again. When they parted, she looked up into his eyes and sighed.
“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Oh,” he said, grinning and shaking his head, “you are very welcome. Thank you.”
&nb
sp; Chapter Eight
I think it’s lovely that you’re crusading on behalf of my sister, Jed,” Bella crooned over the phone, “but David’s really committed to the idea of spending the holiday with his family. Maybe I could make it after the first of the year.”
“Jed, it’s so nice to hear from you,” Sophie exclaimed a few minutes later. “I know how Jo-Jo can be, believe me. She’s a dog with a bone. But really, I can’t see any reason to come back there and relive memories that were dead and buried with our mother.”
Later still, Amy sighed. “I’ve already spoken to Joanna about this, Jed. I have no interest. She’ll just have to understand and move on like the rest of us.”
He’d gone to all the trouble of pilfering Joanna’s cell phone, sneaking off to the bathroom to transfer the three phone numbers into his contact list, and waiting impatiently for the next day so he could make those calls. And this is what he got for his trouble: excuses, selfishness, and closed minds.
He inhaled sharply, swallowing his irritation as best he could. “Listen, Amy. I understand. But you three have a lot more history to draw from. Joanna was so young. All she has left to cling to are a few happy Christmas memories. She’s cut down a tree and decorated it, pulled out the carols your mom used to play. And she’s lit up like that tree, by the way, just thinking about having you all together one more time. You’re going to deny her this? When one last Christmas as a family is all she’s asking? It’s not much, if you really think about—”
“I’m sorry, Jed. I think your heart is in the right place. But there’s a lot you don’t understand. And why are you championing this cause for her anyway? Did Joanna put you up to this?”
“No.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “It just seemed like the right thing to do to let you ladies know that your youngest sister is suffering here. She needs you. All three of you.”
“And we’re there for her in any way we can be, Jedediah. Just not in this.”
On the walk to the main house a while later, Jed replayed those conversations until his brain ached. He hoped he’d at least given Amy a cordial good-bye before hanging up, but he couldn’t really be sure. In fact, he felt pretty certain that, in his frustration, he may have hung up on her.
“Just in time,” Sarah called out when he opened the front door. “Do you need to wash up?”
He stood in the kitchen doorway, a frown on his face, and nodded. As he headed for the hallway bathroom, he heard the jingle-thump-thump-jingle of someone—presumably Jo-Jo, but sounding very Santa-like making her way down the loft stairs. When she appeared around the corner, a thick red velvet strap of jingling bells hung around her neck as she carried two boxes and several glossy shopping bags. She gasped as she nearly slammed straight into him.
“Here,” he said, taking the boxes out of her arms. “What have you got there? I’d have thought every ornament, snowman, and wreath had made its way to the tree already.”
“I found our stockings! I want to hang them on the mantle.”
“And you’re jingling.”
“Oh.” She giggled as she shook the bells hanging around her neck. “We used to hang these on the sleigh on Christmas Eve. Do you remember?”
He smiled. “I do.”
She jingled the strap enthusiastically, clanking the bells. “Tuck used to say . . .,” she said, tensing her face to imitate him, “Whenever a sleigh bell rings, one of my little girls gets their wish.”
Jed remembered Tuck saying that very thing many times. A take on the classic movie, It’s a Wonderful Life . . . every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. He smiled at Joanna and nodded at the bags left in her hand. “You’ve been shopping, I see.”
“I wanted to show them to you and your mom. You’ll never believe what I found at a little shop in town today. I got one for each of us.”
Each sister? The sisters who won’t be coming home for Christmas? Jed’s heartbeat thumped at the mere thought of Joanna’s probable disappointment.
“Matching flannel nightgowns—red-and-green plaid—almost just like the ones Mom gave us way back when.” She giggled. “Amy will just hate them!”
The delight in her voice at challenging her oldest sister resonated with him. He hoped the pajamas hadn’t been too expensive. And that she’d saved the receipt.
He dropped the boxes on Tuck’s chair as Joanna produced one of the ugly—err, nostalgic?—nightgowns from the bag.
“Look at these, Sarah.” She held the nightgown in front of her and swung her body from side to side like a Christmas bell. “I got one for each of us to wear. Aren’t they fun?”
“They’ll certainly put everyone in the mood for remembering,” Jed’s mother said.
Jed’s heart ached for her. She’d always been the encourager, just one of so many good qualities.
“Jo-Jo, listen,” he began, pausing as he considered how to say it. “If they don’t come for Christmas—”
“Don’t even say that. They will, Jed. I just know it.”
“How about some supper?” Sarah interjected. “Stuffed peppers and homemade French bread with garlic butter. Let’s sit down, shall we?”
Jed and Joanna took their usual spots on one side of the island, and Sarah set savory, fragrant plates in front of them. When she took a stool on the short side of the counter, she arched a brow at her son. “Why don’t you pray over our meal, Jedediah.”
Jed snatched Joanna’s hand from where it rested in her lap, then took his mother’s outstretched one and bowed his head. “Father, we thank you for this food and ask your blessing over the hands that prepared it, and over all of us as we enjoy it. We also ask—” He hesitated for an instant before continuing. “—that you would answer Joanna’s prayers. Bring the Tucker girls home for Christmas. In the precious name of Jesus, we pray.”
“Amen!” Joanna declared, and Sarah echoed her enthusiastic sentiment.
Sarah loaded the dishwasher as Jed wiped the island countertop. He intermittently glanced at Joanna as she applied adhesive hooks to the mantle and draped red stockings from them, singing along with Bing’s “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” the whole time. His heart hurt for the joy in her, the same joy that would surely be decimated very soon by the harsh blade of reality.
A flicker of guilt scorched him. Hadn’t he prayed for God to bring her sisters home for Christmas? Maybe it was his faith that needed an attitude adjustment, not Joanna’s.
“Have you thought about telling her?” his mother whispered, and Jed jumped. He hadn’t heard her approach.
“That her sisters aren’t really coming?”
“Oh, no. There’s plenty of time for that. I mean about your feelings.”
He glared at her. “What feelings?”
“The ones of love . . . that you have for her.”
Jed’s heart pummeled the inside of his chest. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m your mother. I’ve noticed.”
“Mom—”
“Jedediah. Tell her.”
He stalked toward Joanna, shaking his head. “Can I help you with that?”
“I’m just about finished.”
Shiny silver embroidery spelled out each of the Tucker sisters’ names. But until that moment, he hadn’t seen the outer two stockings. Mom on one side, Dad on the other. She was really into the reliving-the-past thing, wasn’t she?
After straightening the stockings and the garland running along the edge of the mantle for the third—or maybe fourth—time, she stood back and admired her work. “It looks beautiful, right?”
“It does.”
“Just like when my mom used to decorate. My sisters are going to love it.”
Jed placed an arm around Joanna’s waist and led her over to the sofa. Instead of sitting next to him, she moved to Tuck’s chair and sank into it, grinning as she rubbed the leather arms with both hands.
“I can almost smell that awful pipe tobacco of his when I sit here.”
Befo
re Jed had the chance to reply, his mother stepped behind the chair and wrapped her arms around Joanna’s shoulders. “You’ve done a beautiful job over the last few days, Sweet Pea. This place looks so festive.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
Peering at Jed over the top of Joanna’s head, she told them, “I’m going to my room to call Matthew. He’s been on my mind all day.”
Jed nodded, and Joanna patted Sarah’s hand and thanked her again for all her help. Once she’d gone, Joanna pushed out of the chair and plopped next to Jed on the couch.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said. “And I’d like to go to church with you on Sunday, if you don’t mind.”
“Happy to have you. Mind if I ask what changed your mind?”
She lifted one shoulder in a gentle shrug. “Maybe it’s all the decorations or Bing Crosby on the stereo, or maybe even just the vibe of this house.” She paused and swallowed hard. When she looked back at him, her greenish eyes teemed with tears. “That’s not it. It’s my mother. I’ve been reading her diary and thinking about how strong her faith was. It was never just words for her. Jesus was as much a part of her everyday life as my sisters and I were. She had a living faith, if that makes any sense. It’s been making me feel like I’m . . . missing something. Anyway, I think I’d also like to go to your church to meet the people who knew Tuck when he found that kind of faith. If he did.”
“Oh, he did.”
“That’s good, right?” She sniffed back her tears. “It means . . . he’s with my mom, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
Joanna moved closer and dropped her head to Jed’s shoulder. “It makes me happy to think of it like . . . he finally came home to her. She waited such a long time for that.”
Jed touched her chin with two fingers and angled her head toward him. He gazed into her eyes for several beats. He had no idea what it would mean for them going forward. His heart pounded so hard at the thought that he suspected it might explode, yet Jed knew the time had come to say the words.
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