“So, the town has a do-gooder who is helping out their neighbors. That’s a nice sentiment, but I don’t know what any of this has to do with my father.”
“Did you see the nativity in the middle of Town Square as we drove through?”
“The one without a Mary, Joseph, or a baby Jesus?” he asked with a scoff.
“The very one,” she said with a smile. “It had served as a beacon of light for the people here who are struggling to make ends meet. Every week during December, a new wooden statue is placed somewhere in the nativity and the townsfolks look forward to the new additions with anticipation and excitement.”
“I still don’t see what my father has to do with it.”
Emma smiled, waiting.
It took a moment, but it was as if a little light turned on in his mind.
“No.” he said disbelievingly.
Emma nodded. “Your father is trying. Lucy said that the first few years were a little strained, but after Sophia was born everything changed.” Emma slid out of his arms and sat down in one of the chairs at the foot of the bed.
Jonah took the seat opposite her. He leaned down, his elbows on his knees, and rested his forehead in his hands. It just wasn’t possible. His father, Gabe Deardon, was doing something nice for others. In secret.
“How do you know all of this? We’ve been here less than a day.”
“Lucy and I have been corresponding for years. She discovered his secret last year when she happened to stumble across some of his carvings out in his shop in the barn.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?”
Jonah shook his head. “Probably not.”
The sleigh.
Things were beginning to make sense and the pieces were falling into place.
“Your father wants to make up for the mistakes he’s made, Jonah. And you, my love, need to let him.”
“I’ll talk to him in the morning.” Jonah felt awful for the things he’d said to his father. He’d been so blinded by the hurts of his past that he hadn’t been open to even the possibility that the man could, or would want, to change.
Emma patted him on the knee as she stood up. She kissed him lightly.
“That is one of the reasons I love you,” she said as she folded back the covers on the bed. “You do what’s right. Thank you. You’re a great example for our sons. They have turned into good, hard-working, respectable men. Just like their father.”
Hard-headed, unforgiving, and blind. She’d forgotten to mention some of his lesser qualities. He breathed a chuckle and prayed for the strength to do what was right.
Please, God, be with us all.
Chapter Eight
Christmas Eve
“Lucy, have you seen my father?” Jonah asked the woman rolling mounds of dough and placing them on a giant baking sheet. The sweet aroma swirling about the air in the kitchen made Jonah’s mouth water.
He’d intended to speak with his father that morning, but his Uncle Hank had coaxed him and his boys into competing with some of the cousins at a Christmas Festival in town and it had taken the majority of the day. He’d already been out to the barn and had stopped by Gabe’s room, but the man had seemed to have disappeared.
“You just missed him,” Lucy said with a shrug of her shoulders and a conspiratorial smile.
“Missed him?”
She nodded. “Every year—for the past few anyway, he heads to his cabin up in the hills, just behind the property, on Christmas Eve and returns first thing Christmas morning. He says he needs a few hours to himself, away from the huge crowd that gathers here at Whisper Ridge during the holidays.” She winked at him. “Is it still snowing outside?”
“’Fraid so. Doesn’t look like it will be letting up anytime soon.”
Lucy shook her head. “We haven’t seen a storm like this at Christmas for quite some time and I worry that—” she looked at Jonah with squinted eyes and a raised brow.
“Emma told me last night.”
“Oh, good. I worry about him being out there alone at his age. His bones are getting a little creaky lately and he’s taken more hot baths in the last month than the entire time I’ve known him.” She laughed nervously, then wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the edge of the kitchen.
Jonah had never thought about his father getting old. He had always been so spry and stubborn.
Still stubborn, he thought.
“Sophia,” she called, peeking around the wall and up the stairs. “Where is that child? She is supposed to help put the sugar on top of the pies.”
“Hello, wife.”
Jonah glanced over his shoulder to see Lucas coming into the kitchen, a grin on his face and his hands behind his back.
“Hello, husband,” Lucy said, eying Lucas warily. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing…much,” he said, leaning over and stealing a kiss.
He slipped a small package from behind him and held in front of her to see.
“What is this?” she asked him, one brow raised.
“I guess you’ll have to wait until your hands are clean to open it.”
She reached out to grab it from him, but he pulled it away.
“Oh, all right,” he said with a mischievous smirk and he pulled back the twine and unrolled the thick parchment paper. He opened his eyes wide, still concealing the contents from his wife.
“What? What is it?”
Lucas winked at Jonah, the sly grin still plastered against his face.
Lucy made another grab for it, but she was no match for his brother’s height.
“Lucas Deardon!”
His little brother laughed and dropped his hands, displaying her surprise in front of her.
“Music!” she exclaimed.
“Eight Christmas tunes to be exact.”
Lucy squealed and jumped up into Lucas’s arms, wrapping her flour covered hands around his neck and kissing his face.
It was Jonah’s turn to laugh as white streaks and prints from Lucy’s fingertips smeared his brother’s person. It was good to see that his brother had found the same kind of happiness he had with Emma.
Lucas handed Jonah the sheets of music and wrapped his arms around his wife. “I should get you music more often.”
She giggled.
Jonah looked down at the contents in his hands, genuinely surprised. He couldn’t imagine how Gabe would react to such a gift. He turned for the door, feeling as if intruding on their moment.
“Will you go get your daughter?” Lucy said to her husband from behind him.
“If you save me one of those butter-laden bits of heaven for later,” Lucas retorted as he joined Jonah in the hallway.
“Let me just go grab Sophia and then we can catch up,” his little brother said, as he climbed the stairs, taking two at a time. “There is much to be done tonight,” he called down, in an obviously jovial mood.
For the first time since being here, Jonah noticed the piano inset just off the hallway. He looked around, but everyone seemed to be off, busy with one activity or another. He moved closer to the instrument and plunked one of the keys. Then another.
Back in Oregon, Emma had sung to her children, but he had not had a piano in his house since the day he watched his father destroy their mother’s. He tapped on another key and smiled as the rich, low note reverberated against the air.
Lucas ran down the stairs and back into the kitchen, a look of sheer panic on his face.
Jonah followed, a sinking feeling churning in his belly.
“Sophia’s gone,” Lucas said, his breathing heavy and ragged. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Oh, she’s probably just hiding or playing with the other children.” Lucy put on a strong face, but the worry in her voice was hard to mask. “Sophia,” she called again, moving from one room in the large house to the next to no avail.
“I’ll go get the others,” Jonah told Lucas. He and Noah could take some horses and look at
the surrounding property, while Emma, Kate, and the boys could search through the yard and outbuildings.
Lucas nodded. “I’m coming with you.” He strode to the door, picked up his jacket from the hook there and shoved his arms through the sleeves.
Lucy wrung her hands against her apron. “I’m coming too.”
“Someone needs to be here in case she comes back.”
“But—” Even as she started, he could see that she knew it made sense, and she dropped her shoulders in resignation.
“Go,” she said quietly.
“Lucy,” Jonah tried to offer some comfort, “we’ll find her.”
“Go!” she commanded and he did not hesitate to obey her order.
With the storm evolving dangerously into a blizzard, there was little time to waste.
Chapter Nine
Gabe looked out across the landscape, barely able to make out the markers that offered a sense of direction. The storm had grown increasingly fierce and he shivered, despite the warmth of Ethel’s fur-lined cloak. He pulled the hood up and over his Stetson, grateful it fit, but sure it must look a sight.
As he pulled up near the farmhouse on the farthest edge of town, he was careful not to get too close. The last thing he needed was to get caught. He’d mapped out his route early on and had decided to start at the end and work his way home, in order to avoid detection, as he would not be backtracking after delivery.
Each year, it had been his privilege to select three or four families in the area to help. While every child in Thistleberry would receive a toy, these families would receive a little more. It was the least he could do to show his gratitude for everything with which he and his family had been blessed.
Somewhere along the road, he’d forgotten the lessons his mother had taught him as a child, but not anymore. He loved hearing about the experiences and excitement that his small acts of kindness brought to others. It was a good feeling that he’d gone many years without. If only he could have explained it all to Jonah, shared with him the joy he’d found in serving others. How he hoped his actions would make a difference in the lives of those around him. But, he’d worked all through the night and by the time he had dragged his aching body out of his bed, everyone had already left for the Christmas festival in town.
Gabe hopped down off the sleigh and wrapped the reins around the metal cleat just below the seat on the driver’s side, then made his way to the back, where he had stored the gifts. The wind whipped at his face and hands. The storm didn’t show any signs of stopping, so he would need to hurry.
He unhooked the lantern from its post and carried it with him to the back of the sleigh, setting it down on the runner while he collected the right gifts. He lifted the lid for the storage compartment only to discover the face of his little Sophia peeking out from beneath a large bundle of fur skins and blankets, sleeping peacefully.
His heart sped up a beat or two.
He reached down into the compartment and pulled the little girl up into his arms.
She stirred and snuggled into him, then her eyes popped open, and she sat bolt upright.
“I knew it was you, Granddad. You are Father Christmas.”
“Shhh,” Gabe coaxed. The last thing he needed was for the family to come out to see what all the commotion was about.
“Sophia,” he hugged her close, “your parents are going to be worried sick.”
“Don’t worry, Granddad. I left them a note.”
“Since when do you know how to write a note?”
“Mama is teaching me. She says it will be better when I start school if I already know how to write my letters and numbers,” she responded proudly.
Gabe doubted the child could write a note clearly enough that Lucas would understand where she’d gone. It was all the more reason to hurry. He set her down on the back seat, next to his most prized creation, pulled out the furs and blankets from the back, and wrapped her warmly inside of them.
“Stay,” he warned, but couldn’t help the smile that reached his face.
In barely more than a whisper she responded, “Yes, sir.”
Gabe scooped up the large potato sack, in which he’d placed all the family’s gifts, and headed for the front door.
A shadow alerted him that someone was approaching and he ducked out of sight. The lady of the house passed by the window and Gabe waited until he thought it would be safe, then dared start again for the door.
Slowly, he dragged the sack up onto the covered porch and set it up against the house where it would be safer from the elements, and made his way back to the sleigh and his granddaughter. He blew out a long breath.
“You stay put, little one,” he instructed as he climbed back up onto the driver’s seat.
All of the remaining stops were on the way back to Whisper Ridge. He slapped the reins, heading as quickly as he dared toward town. At least she was warm. He glanced back over his shoulder and held up the light. Her rosy cheeks had been scrunched into little balls just beneath her eyes as she smiled up at him.
As they rode, the sound of Sophia’s little angelic voice humming, then singing carols of Christmas, filled Gabe with light and a slight chill ran down the length of his arms and enveloped him in warmth. He’d forgotten how sweet music could be and reveled in this special moment with his granddaughter.
The streets were quiet as they pulled into town, the only light coming from the hotel at the far end of the boardwalk. He guided the horses slowly into the middle of Town Square and climbed down off the sleigh. His bones creaked and his body was stiff, but he reminded himself again that it was for a good cause. He reached in, next to Sophia, and lifted the heavy wooden statue from beside her. The nativity had seemed empty until he set the beautiful figure of Mary holding the Christ-child and Joseph kneeling behind them. The piece had turned out better than he could have ever expected and he took a moment to admire the scene.
Voices came from down the covered walkway around the corner from them. Gabe quickly pulled himself back up into the sleigh and, with just a light tap of the reins, the horses seemed to know exactly what to do as they headed down to the opposite end of the street. It wasn’t long before they were back on the road out of town, headed toward Whisper Ridge.
Just one more stop. The Collins place.
This house was a little trickier to get to without calling any attention to oneself. There was a large picket fence that surrounded the home and past experience had told him that the gate squeaked. He pulled out the oil can he’d tucked under the seat and made quick work of greasing the hinge. He grabbed ahold of the gate and gingerly pulled it toward him.
No squeak.
With relief, he set the oil back into the sleigh.
The Collins family consisted of seven children ranging in ages from three to fifteen and their parents. Gabe had handcrafted simple toys for each of the younger children, and more complex ones for the older ones, along with some foodstuffs, a little money, and a small jewelry box for their mother. He’d also put together a collection of woodworking tools for Mr. Collins.
As he set the last two bags on their porch, he smiled to himself, wishing he could see their faces in the morning. He shook his head at the thought, then made his way down the steps, out the gate, and toward his granddaughter. He needed to get the girl home.
He lost his footing on a small patch of ice just as he approached the sleigh and fell backward, knocking his head against the hard ground and twisting his knee.
“Granddad?”
Gabe heard Sophia’s faint cry as darkness threatened to overtake him. He fought the blackness. Couldn’t relent. He had to keep her safe. When the little girl reached him, she held up the lantern that, by some miracle, had not broken in the fall. He tried to focus on her face. Then, watched as her forehead crinkled, her eyes glazed over with tears, and her lips shook—whether from the cold or with fear he was unsure.
“Granddad,” she called again, “are you all right?” she asked innocently.
; Gabe fought to sit up, but his head swirled and his leg throbbed. He just needed a minute and he lay back against the snow, the thick fur-lined cloak Ethel had provided for his adventures the only barrier between him and the cold.
“Soph,” he called up to the child, “don’t you worry none. Everything is going to be okay,” he tried to offer as much comfort as he could.
His little angel set down the lantern and crawled inside of his coat, snuggling up to his chest.
All he could do was to put his arm around her, making sure the warmth of his cloak would protect her, and he pulled her close as he worked to catch his breath.
Chapter Ten
Two hours had passed and there was still no sign of Sophia.
Uncle Hank and Uncle Sam, along with their families, had all come over to join in the search. The women and children had stayed closer to the homestead—searching the outbuildings and surrounding landmarks, and some of them had stayed behind with Lucy in the ranch house to keep her from going mad with worry.
Where could she have gone?
The weather was bad enough that the men had chosen to go out in pairs. The last thing they needed was to lose someone else. Jonah and Noah had travelled south, while Lucas and their cousin, Seth, had gone east. They had agreed to return to the ranch to regroup and to check in every hour.
Jonah looked at the men who had gathered around the corral. Solemn shakes of their heads indicated that Sophia had not yet been found. The sound of the rushing creek hit Jonah like a punch to the gut, but he refused to believe she would have ventured that far. Besides, his cousin, Daniel, and Uncle Sam had already checked that direction and had come back empty-handed—to everyone’s relief.
No matter where she’d gone, a little girl wouldn’t last long if she remained out in this storm, alone. Jonah could only imagine how scared she must be, but he had to keep hope. If she was half as smart as her mother, she was probably cuddled up somewhere, toasty warm, without a care in the world.
The Deardons Complete Mini-Series Page 36