Authors: Ruth Logan Herne
“See the star up there?” Jason asked, pointing to it. “Granddad's father made that for the first time the town decorated the tree.”
“What a nice tradition,” Amy commented as her eyes traveled up to it. “They probably didn't need a cherry picker to put it up back then.”
“Yeah, they conned some poor sap into scaling the trunk and wiring it in place.” Chuckling, he shook his head. “Can you imagine how sticky he'd be with pine pitch all over him? Stuff must've stuck to him for a week.”
Amy hadn't considered that, and she marveled at the practical way his mind worked. She was a creative person by nature, and her involvement pretty much ended at the concept stage. In the short time she'd known him, Jason had proven himself adept at making her fanciful designs work in three dimensions. Piece by piece, together they were bringing her vision for
The Nutcracker
to life. Theirs was an unusual collaboration, to be sure, but so far it seemed to be working.
Hefting the large basket of pralines, he scanned the crowd from his much higher vantage point. “Okay. Where did you wanna start?”
“You know, I'm perfectly capable of carrying that myself,” she protested.
“Not as long as I'm here.”
She bristled at that. “Excuse me?”
He seemed to realize he'd insulted her, and he deflected her temper with a soothing grin. “That didn't come out right. I meant I'm happy to help a lady out by hauling a basket around the square for her. Since these are your aunt's treats, I'm figuring it'll lighten up quick enough.”
As if to prove his point, a middle-aged couple approached them with bright smiles. They looked vaguely familiar, but Amy couldn't quite place them until the man began talking.
“Good evening, you two.” While his greeting was for them both, he added a fatherly nod for her. “It's wonderful to see you again, Amy. It's been a while, so I'm not sure you remember me.”
“Pastor Griggs,” she said, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It only worsened when she glanced at his wife, and she struggled to keep her composure. In her mind, they represented everything she'd turned her back on, and running into them tonight was awkward, at best. “Mrs. Griggs. How are you tonight?”
“Busy as always during the holiday season,” the woman replied in the gentle voice that had taught her the Sunday-school lessons she'd adored. The ones where she'd learned that God loved and watched over all His children. She'd believed that for a long time, until harsh experience had taught her otherwise. The day He abandoned her was the beginning of the worst time in her life.
It was bad enough the rest of the year, but Christmas was especially hard for her. While everyone else was full of grace and good cheer, she mourned what she'd lost out on that dark, icy road, knowing it was gone forever.
Jason was calmly chatting with them as if nothing was amiss, even though he'd confided to her how sad he was about his grandfather. She found herself envying his levelheaded perspective, and she made an attempt to copy his behavior. Smiling and nodding, she did her best to participate in the lighthearted conversation, and to her surprise, her dark mood began to brighten.
Until the pastor said, “I'm sure you're very busy with the studio, Amy, but we'd love to have you back at the Crossroads Church. Our little family hasn't been quite the same without you.”
Amy saw absolutely no reason to worship a God who'd turned His back on her, and she swallowed hard to keep from blurting out her true feelings. “Thank you for the invitation.”
Apparently, Mrs. Griggs sensed her attitude and changed tracks with a laugh. “Don't be fooled, dear. What he's really after is another soprano for the choir. We've lost a few and are hunting for some to replace them.”
“No one's sick, I hope,” Amy said.
“One of the ladies has a baby due on Christmas Eve, and she won't be able to sing. Another moved unexpectedly when her husband got a new job out of state, and the othersâ” She shrugged. “You know how it is.”
“You have such a lovely voice, though,” her husband chimed in with an optimistic look. “I'm sure your singing would be wonderful.”
He'd nailed her weakness, Amy groaned silently. Despite her ongoing battle with the Almighty, she loved Christmas music for its upbeat, joyful content. Peace on earth, goodwill toward everyoneâeven a lapsed Christian like her could appreciate such hopeful messages.
But agreeing to sing would make her the worst kind of hypocrite, and she wouldn't be able to live with herself. “I'm afraid I'm not active in the church anymore. Much as I'd like to help out, it wouldn't feel right to do that when I don't attend services.”
The Griggses exchanged a look that told her they already knew what she'd just told them, and the pastor's wife patted her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “We completely understand, dear, and we're not trying to coerce you into doing something you're not comfortable with. If you'd like to join us, we'd be happy to have you.”
Amy couldn't believe she'd heard the woman correctly. “You mean, I can join the choir but not come to church?”
“Yes,” the pastor replied without hesitation. “No one will pressure you for more than you want to do. You have my word on that.”
At first, his promise made no sense to her at all. Then it occurred to her he was probably thinking she'd change her mind once she got reacquainted with the people in the congregation. Maybe he was right, she acknowledged, maybe not. But she couldn't deny that celebrating Christmas in her hometown held a nostalgic appeal for her.
She glanced up at Jason, who met her questioning look with a grin. “Most of us can't sing a lick, but it's a lotta fun.”
“You're in the church choir?” she asked, well and truly amazed.
“Sure. It's a great place to meet girls.”
His wicked grin made her laugh, and she had to admit that knowing he'd be there was a plus for her. She'd been on her own for so long, wishing she could find a way to belong to a community somewhere. Here was a golden opportunity, staring her in the face. All she had to do was go into the church for rehearsals, she reasoned. How hard could it be?
“Your cousin Brenda has the music,” the preacher nudged gently. “I'm sure she'd copy it for you, and then you could decide after that. If you're interested, we rehearse on Tuesday nights, from six to eight.”
“I'll definitely think about it.”
They each took a praline, agreeing to spread the word about her upcoming production. As they headed off to circulate, she wondered at the turn her evening had taken. If they'd asked her about the choir an hour ago, she'd have politely but firmly refused. Now, for some reason, she was more open to it. Could it be the town's undeniable Christmas spirit was rubbing off on her? Anything was possible, she supposed.
“Punch?” Jason asked, nodding toward the table loaded down with huge punch bowls and paper cups.
“Please.”
She took the basket from him, fully intending to keep it. But when he returned with their drinks, he smoothly retrieved it from her. While they resumed their aimless course through the square, she said, “You're a very stubborn man.”
That got her a bright grin. “Yeah.”
“Jenna complains about your brother Paul being the same way. It must run in your family.”
His expression dimmed, and in his eyes she noticed something she hadn't yet seen: anxiety. He'd been so kind to her, she felt awful for upsetting him, even though it was an accident. “I'm sorry, Jason. Did I say something wrong?”
“No, it's justâ” Taking her elbow, he guided her to a quieter spot in a stand of trees away from the crowd. “There's something you need to know about me.”
It sounded so ominous, she felt her pulse ratchet up several notches. Did she want to know? she wondered. She'd learned to keep peopleâespecially menâat a safe distance to avoid being hurt. But now, she was touched that he valued their friendship enough to share an important secret with her. Because he trusted her, she felt more confident about trusting him in return. “Okay. Go ahead.”
After a heavy sigh, he fixed her with an intense gaze she'd never seen from him. “Paul and I aren't related.”
“I don't understand. You and everyone else in town told me you're brothers.”
“We are, but not the usual way. His mom, Diane, works with kids at teen centers she runs here and in Cambridge, which is where she met my mother twenty-five years ago. She and Tom adopted me from her before I was born.”
Amy's jaw fell open in shock, and she frantically searched for a logical reaction to his stunning news. “Who is she?”
“I have no idea. That was part of the deal they made, and my parents have stood by their word.”
“But didn't you wonder about her while you were growing up?” Amy pressed in a whisper. “I mean, she was your mother.”
“She wasn't ready for me when I came along,” he explained in a tone much calmer than hers. “She gave me a chance to have a better life, and whoever she is, I'll always be grateful to her for that.”
“I'd be furious,” Amy hissed at the selfish woman she'd never meet. How could a mother surrender her newborn child? Unmarried and alone at what she assumed was a similar age, her own mother had never even considered such a thing.
Jason took her anger in stride, easing her temper with a smile. “Your mom took on the world for you and made it work. Not everyone is that strong.”
Since he'd come to terms with the situation, Amy concluded that it was ridiculous for her to debate a teenager's decision with him. Shaking off her lingering resentment, she did her best to return the smile. “I guess you're right about that. Dad left when I was a baby, but Mom never let him being gone affect me. She's pretty amazing.”
“You must've gotten that from her.” Holding up his cup, he tapped hers in a toast. “To Christmas in Barrett's Mill. Welcome home, Amy.”
She'd heard grander speeches, but none had warmed her withered heart the way his simple toast did. There was something about this towering lumberjack with the kind eyes that made her want to start dreaming of better things to come. “Welcome home, Jason. Merry Christmas.”
He polished off his punch in one swallow and tossed his cup into a nearby bin. Then he rubbed his hands together and picked up the basket again. “Enough serious talk. Let's give out the rest of these so we can enjoy ourselves.”
“Sounds good.”
With his height and outgoing personality, it didn't take long for them to empty the basket. Several people asked about the studio and what kinds of classes she'd be offering after the holidays. Fortunately, Amy had the foresight to bring along business cards, and by the time they'd finished their circuit of the square, all the cards and candies were gone.
“This is fabulous,” she approved. “If even half those folks bring their kids in after New Year's, I'll have enough students for another beginning ballet class.”
Jason gave her an admiring look. “Y'know, I snuck in the other day while you were teaching that bunch of six-year-olds. You're great with them, and the way they stare up at you is really cute.”
“I like kids in general, but that group is so great, I think I have even more fun than they do.”
“It shows. You're gonna make a fantastic mom someday.”
His comment plucked a sensitive chord deep inside her, and she tried to accept his compliment the way she knew she should. Swallowing hard, she managed to thank him in a more or less normal voice.
Unfortunately, he was more perceptive than she'd anticipated, and his face clouded with concern. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, it's nothing. Sorry,” she added lamely. “It's been a big day, and I'm a little tired, I guess.”
“It's not nothing, but if you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine. I understand.”
Meeting his eyes, she found nothing but compassion in them. As a rule, she kept her private issues to herself, not wanting to discuss painful things with people who couldn't possibly relate to them. Jason was different, though. He'd trusted her with something very personal about himself, and she knew if she confided in him, he'd be sympathetic.
So, after a deep breath, she nutshelled it for him. “I can't have children.”
“Because of the accident?” When she nodded, his rugged face twisted with sympathy. “Amy, I'm so sorry. Are you sure there's no way around it?”
“The surgeries I went through made sure of that. It was the main reason my fiancé left,” she heard herself add. She hadn't meant to share that detail, but since it was out in the open, she decided to clear it all out of her system. “Having a family was really important to him, and he refused to consider adoption.”
“Love is what makes a family,” Jason said tersely. “If he was too narrow-minded to see that, you're better off without him.”
The utter conviction in his tone drove off some of her sadness, and she rewarded his thoughtfulness with her biggest, brightest smile. “Thank you for saying that. It was very sweet.”
He gave her a slow, very male grin. “That's me.”
“The girls around here must fall all over you.” The grin widened mischievously, and she couldn't help laughing. “Just so you know, I won't be joining them.”
“Really?” The gold in his eyes sparked with curiosity, and he moved a half step closer. “Why?”
It was a moronically simple question, but while his gaze seemed to warm the chilly evening air, her brain went completely blank. He was so down-to-earth, with his easygoing demeanor and generous nature. Here, in her tiny hometown of all places, she'd found someone who accepted her just as she was, flaws and all. Being female, she couldn't help being drawn to him and his bright optimism, but at the same time she resisted getting any closer. The question, as he'd so directly put it, was why.