Their First Noel

by Annie Jones

  “I know,” he said. He felt both humbled and heroic all at once because he knew something Corrie couldn’t possibly know. He turned, brushed her hair off the corner of her glasses and then touched her cheek. “I already did ask for help—twice.”

  “When?”

  He couldn’t take his eyes from her face. Up until this moment he had thought of himself as in charge. He thought he had come up with the game plan and carried it out according to his own directions. But here now, standing amidst these people he cared for, looking into the eyes of the woman he loved, he knew the truth. “I asked for help on the night you blew into my life.”

  “Really? How did you do that?”

  “In a prayer.” He tensed slightly and shut his eyes to add, “And, Greer, that does not mean this is the answer to your prayer that I get a girlfriend, because—”

  “She’s not your girlfriend,” the group supplied in a weary but disbelieving singsong.

  “I was going to say, because that’s not the real answer,” he said loud and clear. “The real answer is that God heard what was in my heart and by laying my deepest desires at His feet, He moved through me. He prepared me for an unexpected answer.”

  “Does that mean you’ve had a change of heart?” she murmured through a soft smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “That means I am open to a change of plans,” he whispered back. “Corrie, I was so wrong. Wrong about you. Wrong about not letting people help me, even if that meant they sometimes let me down. And I was wrong to ever let you walk out of the inn without telling you that no matter how much I did to restore the place, it would always feel incomplete without you in it.”

  “Oh, Andy.” She threw her arms around his neck.

  “And because I promised you the night we met that I’d put things right about your snow globe, I asked for help again yesterday.” He got out his phone and sent a quick text.

  Corrie tried to steal a peek but he whisked his phone out of sight then turned to the crowd.

  “As for the part about Corrie being my girlfriend…” He shifted Corrie so that he could look her in the eyes as he said, “As for Corrie being my girlfriend? She’d have to be open to staying in Vermont and helping me not just get the inn ready for Christmas Eve, but for every day after.”

  She beamed up at him. “I could do that.”

  “Kiss her!” someone in the group called out.

  “Not until she tells me her plans.”

  “I plan to follow my heart and let God order my steps. I plan to trust you, Andy McFarland but I can’t stay in Vermont unless you can promise me the same things.”

  “I promise,” he said softly just before he kissed her.

  The crowd sighed, cheered, applauded again.

  Andy felt self-conscious and pulled away, whispering in her ear, “I love you, Corrie Bennington. I know it’s only been a week, but I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

  “I love you, too,” she whispered. “And I love this town. It feels like home but I’m not sure how my mom will feel about me moving here.”

  “Then ask her.” He took Corrie by the shoulders and turned her around to face a round-faced woman with strawberry-blond hair holding a small box before her and walking as though trying to maneuver on a tight rope.

  “Barbie?” Buck James stepped out of the crowd.

  “Hello, Buck,” the woman said with a shy smile and flushed cheeks. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Oh, Andy.” Tears rolled down Corrie’s face.

  Andy took the box from Barbara’s hands. “I worked on this all day and night to make it all better for you, Corrie.”

  Corrie lifted the lid off the box, reached down inside.

  “I couldn’t make it a snow globe again, so I…”

  “You improvised,” she whispered then looked up from the rescued Snowy Eaves Inn that had been in the snow globe all these years, now in a glass and wood case.

  “It still plays music and if you press this button…” He reached beneath the box, wound the music box and pushed a button that started a tiny fan. Glitter began to swirl and fly all around the box like a blizzard of sparkling fresh snow.

  “I love it. You didn’t just fix it, you made it better,” she told him, then she looked from her gift to her parents then up at Andy again.

  “I could say the same about you.” He kissed her lightly again and pulled her close in a tight embrace so he could whisper in her ear, “You have made everything better, Corrie. I love you and I hope we spend Christmas Eve at the Snowy Eaves Inn for many, many, many Christmases to come.”

  Epilogue

  Christmas Eve, one year later.

  “I like this tree better than last year’s.” Greer circled the nearly ten-foot-tall elegant fir tree, lit with hundreds of colored lights, dozens of ornaments sent from guests who had visited from all over the country, and yards of fat, shimmering garland.

  “Not me.” Andy looped his arms around Corrie and pulled her back against him. “What do you think, Mrs. McFarland?”

  “Mmmm.” She shut her eyes and reveled in the joy of celebrating this special night in her husband’s embrace. “I think I can’t get enough of hearing my new name.”

  “Aww, you’ve had it for three whole months. Enough with the lovey-dovey stuff already.” Greer crinkled up her nose and tilted her head back to examine the tree again. “This tree does need something, though.”

  “Any news on when our special guests will arrive?” Hannah came into the lobby, passed the tree and gazed out in the direction of the drive. She wouldn’t be able to see anything even in the late afternoon light because of the trees and the light snow.

  “The open house starts at seven and will be done in time for us to go to our eleven o’clock candlelight church service, same as always.” Andy moved to Corrie’s side, keeping his strong arm around her shoulders.

  “I didn’t mean open house guests.” Hannah shot him a motherly backward glance. “I mean Corrie’s parents.”

  “Parents,” Corrie murmured. “There’s another word I can’t hear often enough.”

  Hannah rounded the tree in the opposite direction of her daughter, giving the tree a once-over as she did. “I bet we’ll have another wedding this coming year, what do you think?”

  Corrie could hardly contain her giddiness at the possibility. She had met her father for the first time a year ago. Her mother and Buck met again after all these years in the place they had fallen in love. There was so much to deal with, so much heartache and so many mistakes.

  Corrie had always known that her mother carried hard feelings toward Buck. But also learned that she had always struggled with the conflict of having a child she loved with all her heart and that she had had that child out of wedlock. That went a long way toward her understanding her mother even more. Once their relationship had begun to grow, her mom came to Vermont to visit more. So did Buck.

  After Corrie and Andy’s wedding three months ago, her parents began dating.

  Corrie inhaled deeply the scent of pine and wonderful foods and her husband’s fresh aftershave clinging to his wool sweater. She looked around at the stairway and the concrete floors that had turned out so well they decided to save a bunch of money and not cover them with wood. She had come down that staircase to marry the man she loved, right here, in front of these windows where the tree now stood.

  “I think you’re right,” Hannah said as she joined her young daughter looking up at the towering tree before them. “It does need something.”

  “A star?” Andy asked, pointing to the bare tippy-top branch.

  “How about a Sarah Finn?” Corrie teased, giving her new sister-in-law a wink.

  “I know its seraphim, now.” she said, sounding quite grown up. “And that gives me an idea.”

  She ran off toward the room where she and her mother were spending the night so that the whole family could be together on Christmas morning.

  “Family,” Corrie
whispered.

  “Hmm?” Andy crooked his finger under her chin.

  “I was just thinking about why this tree might actually be better than last year’s—because it’s the first one I’ll ever share with my whole family.”

  “But not the only one you’ll share with your adoring husband.” He gave her a kiss.

  She smiled to think of the small tree with the homemade trimming they had in their room upstairs. “Much as I love the idea of the whole family, there is something to be said for—”

  “The perfect tree topper.” Greer came sliding across the floor holding up the old sock monkey Andy had given her and she had clung to for the last few years. “Buddy Mon-Kay!”

  She had dressed him again in the angel’s robe, halo and wings she’d fashioned for him last year.

  “A sock monkey?” Andy asked, still keeping his arm around Corrie.

  “Not just any sock monkey. It’s a family heirloom, like the Snowy Eaves Inn snow globe,” she told him, holding the toy up high. “We’re supposed to pass it along. You gave it to me when you didn’t need it. And now that Mom is staying in the country to work, I don’t need it to keep me company anymore, so I am passing it along.”

  “That’s a lovely idea, sweetie,” Corrie bent down to look the child in the face, and realized she didn’t have to bend nearly as much as she had a year ago. “But who are you passing it along to?”

  “Your kid!” She went up on tiptoe and and motioned toward the top branch indicating the monkey should be installed immediately.

  Corrie stood bolt upright.

  “We don’t have a kid,” Andy hurried to say.

  “And we don’t have any plans for one,” Corrie hastened to add.

  “I know. That’s why it’s going up on the tree this year. By next year, though, who knows?”

  Andy gave her a squeeze and chuckled. “Who knows?”

  She turned and looked into her husband’s eyes. She no longer blushed when she stood so close to him but her heart fluttered. “In his heart a man plans his course but the Lord determines his steps.”

  “I love you, Corrie Bennington McFarland,” he whispered. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Andy,” she murmured in response. Then she kissed her new husband, helped him put the monkey up as a tree topper then welcomed her parents to their home to celebrate the greatest gift of all, God’s love.

  Dear Reader,

  The idea for this book first came from watching Gingerbread House contests and from admiring the houses in The Red Scooter, an antique mall owned by a friend in Taylorsville, Ky. But later it also became about finding someone and about how loss and hope shape who we become.

  That became timely when I found one of my dearest friends from high school online this past year. At first it was just fun to catch up. Then we began to talk about our children and she shared with me how her faith had guided and comforted her life. Then in November, her sole surviving son died unexpectedly from an undetected heart ailment and it seemed such a small token on my part but also a blessing to be able to remember him in this letter and dedication.

  Theo was born on June 14, 1991 (Flag Day—he thought the flags were out for him) and died November 11, 2009. I didn’t know Theo except through his writing and his mom. Reading his poetry and lyrics, I know he was a gentle, sweet soul with so much promise, gone too soon. I know he was loved by his parents every moment of his life and every moment that their hearts beat, he will be there with his other siblings, who went before him to the Lord.

  So as you read this letter and this book, I hope you say a prayer for those who are no longer with us, those who will always love us and when you see the flags out on Flag Day, you smile knowing that Theo Anderson will be celebrating in heaven.

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  The hero, heroine and his sister all consider the issue of how God answers prayer in this story. How do you think God answers prayer?

  As a grown child, the heroine sees her upbringing in a different light than her mother thought she was raising her. Why do you think it happens between parents and children?

  The heroine’s mother tried to shape her child by forcing her to be independent but the heroine reacted by being more open to the help of others. Does this reflect parent/child relationships you know?

  Do you see ways in which the heroine actually is making life choices that are in keeping with her mother’s goal of being independent?

  The main characters struggle with their approach to getting things done—planning versus flying by the seat of your pants. Which are you? Do you think that is an obstacle to a relationship?

  The hero and heroine also have differing views about small churches being involved in their lives, she is grateful for it but he finds himself hiding in a back pew to avoid matchmakers. What do you think is the best amount of involvement between church members?

  The heroine has a snow globe of the Snowy Eaves Inn. Do you have a memento of a place you’ve never been but dream of one day seeing?

  Have you ever used homemade Christmas decorations on your tree? What were they?

  The heroine comes a long way to look for her father but then does things to keep from being able to follow through. Why do you think she does this?

  Have you ever tried to make a gingerbread house? Tell about how it turned out.

  The hero reacted to his father’s sudden death by trying to control situations to protect his family. What were the flaws in this plan?

  How did you find the characters’ faith affecting their choices and relationships?

  How do you think you apply the verse Proverbs 16:9 (In his heart a man plans his course but the Lord determines his steps.) in your life?

  How do you think the characters demonstrated this verse?

  In the end, the heroine proved to the hero that he could trust her by making a sacrifice to help pay for the mess she’d made. How does this demonstrate not just her love for him but also how her faith becomes a part of that love?

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-7538-0

  THEIR FIRST NOEL

  Copyright © 2010 by Luanne Jones

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.

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