A Thrill of Hope

by Marie Higgins

  Sighing, Rafe leaned back in his chair and looked at his cousin. “Exactly.”

  “You know,” Blake drummed his fingers on the table, “for the past few years, I’ve been putting away a little money. I have a pretty good nest-egg. I wouldn’t be able to buy this house from you, but I could buy my own place.”

  “Good for you.” Rafe managed a smile. “I just wish I knew how to help Luca. I hate to see him torn up and feeling like I’m kicking him out.”

  Blake swished his hand in the air. “Luca’s beyond help. He’s anti-social, and I worry he’ll never find a woman to marry. But when he sees a woman, he lavishes her with expensive gifts. He doesn’t have a large savings account, and I don’t think he ever will. If we don’t force him to grow up and take responsibility, he will never be able to make it on his own.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  Blake stared at him for several seconds and shook his head. “Do you know what your greatest fault is?”

  Rafe arched an eyebrow. “You mean besides my good looks?”

  Blake snorted a laugh. “Yeah, besides that.”

  “I don’t know. Tell me.”

  “You worry too much of others and want to make everyone happy.”

  “And,” Rafe tilted his head, “this is a bad thing?”

  “In your case, yes.” Blake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because you want to please everyone, you forgot the most important person—” he nodded, “you! If you’re not truly happy, how can you expect to make others around you happy?”

  Rafe chuckled, letting the statement sink in. “You sound like my father.”

  “Maybe that’s where I heard it.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “My old man used to say things like that, too.” Blake laughed. “It must be a Montgomery trait.”

  “It must be.”

  Rafe left the table and walked to the window. Darkness had covered the land, but the sky was clear and lit with twinkling stars. The past several days had left him with so much on his mind, and he’d wondered what was wrong with his life. Blake’s statement hit a nerve, but he was right. Rafe hadn’t been truly happy for a few years. Of course, he wasn’t sure if selling the ranch would make him happy or not. And, he still wasn’t sure if losing Katie had been a bad thing or a blessing in disguise. For some odd reason, he wasn’t disheartened over their breakup. He was more upset about making her hate him than anything.

  And Holly... He still didn’t know how to feel about that woman. Ever since he had mistaken her for his girlfriend when he kissed Holly in the prop room, his thoughts had been flighty. His head had been dizzy. And his heart... had fluttered much too often whenever Holly was around.

  But what exactly would make him happy? Perhaps he needed to take the time to discover what his heart really wanted.

  HOLLY CARRIED A CUP of hot chocolate into the guestroom where her mother had been sleeping, since she couldn’t walk up and down the stairs in a cast. Her mother hadn’t had any migraines for a few years, but after hearing the bad news about the ruined props, her mother had spent the past two days in bed with the curtains closed.

  Quietly, Holly entered the room. She placed the cup on the stand beside her mother’s bed. Her mother rolled her head on the pillow, turning her gaze on Holly.

  “Thank you, my dear.”

  Holly smiled. “I know how much you love hot chocolate. I hope this will cheer you up.”

  Tears glistened in the older woman’s eyes. “The only thing that will cheer me up is a miracle.” She inhaled deeply and released it. “Every year since you were five years old, I’ve been in charge of the Christmas program. When one of the props needed fixing, your father always fixed it. If something broke, he built a new one. When the costumes wore out, I sewed together a new outfit.” Her frown deepened. “Nothing like this has ever happened. Not only do we not have a place to perform the story of Christ’s birth, we have no props and no costumes. It just won’t be Christmas without the program.”

  A tear leaked from the corner of her mother’s eye and ran down her cheek. Holly sat on the edge of the bed and took hold of her mother’s hand.

  “You can’t give up hope. I’m sure something will come up—”

  “I can’t do anything.” Her mother motioned to her cast. “Not with a broken leg.”

  “Well, what if I went to talk to your pastor? Maybe he could send out word that we need help with the program this year.”

  “I suppose that might help.” She squeezed Holly’s hand. “Would you go talk to him and explain what happened to the theatre? Would you see if he can announce it this Sunday in church?”

  “Yes, of course.” Holly leaned over and kissed her mother’s forehead. “Now stop worrying, and drink your hot chocolate. It will make you feel better.”

  Holly left her mother’s room. She needed to go into town and buy some groceries, anyway, so she’d just swing by the church and talk to the man of God.

  “Hey, Mom,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m going into town now. Do you need anything?”

  “No, nothing. Just talk to Pastor Stephens.”

  “I will, Mom.”

  Holly snatched her coat from the closet and her purse from off the table before leaving the house. As she drove farther into town, she noticed more Christmas decorations on the houses, and in the streets. Usually, each shop in town was in charge of their own decorations, and by the first week in December, every single building in town was lit up with beautiful lights, angels, or wreaths.

  A pang of homesickness came over her. Although she was home, she realized she had missed this. Living in California during the holidays just wasn’t the same. And after she left Montana again, who knew how long it’ll take her to return.

  She drove to the church first, but no cars were in the parking lot, which of course, meant that Pastor Stephens wasn’t inside. She had no idea where he lived, either. But she’d go to the grocery store and ask someone there. Most people in Timberland knew something about everyone.

  When she entered the store, several people stood at the check-out lines with carts full of groceries. She grabbed a cart and wheeled it down the first aisle. The overhead Christmas music drowned out the slight squeak to the wheel on her cart.

  As she turned the corner, she saw old man Tippins. He’d been the town comedian when she was young. Apparently, he didn’t think about leaving town in order to further his career. How sad. Once she had graduated high school, she couldn’t wait to get out of Timberland and away from gossip.

  “Hello, Mr. Tippins.”

  He narrowed his gaze and lowered the glasses on his nose. His bushy white eyebrows were so thick, she wondered if they had grown together.

  “You are Georgia Kidman’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  She smiled. “Yes, I’m Holly.”

  “Oh, yes. Holly.” He shook his head and grinned. “You get more beautiful every year I see you.”

  Holly didn’t dare laugh out loud, but she had to correct him. “Um, Mr. Tippins, you must be thinking of my sister, Ivy. I live in California now. I haven’t been home for a few years.”

  His eyes widened as recognition lit the dull gray color. “Oh, yes. You left Montana in hopes of becoming a big movie-producer. Your mother has talked about your success.”

  Her heart lightened. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Well, don’t give up. You will get there soon enough, I’m sure of it.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Tippins.”

  She moved her cart around him and headed down the other aisle. Immediately, her attention fell on the good-looking man in the sheepskin coat and crisp blue jeans that fit his legs to perfection. Holding her breath, she came to a sudden stop. His back was toward her as he chatted with an older man, but she didn’t want him to turn and see her. The other man looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite put a name to him.

  Carefully, so as not to be noticed, she turned her cart around, on her way to head down the
next aisle. But the conversation of the men reached her ears. Apparently, the man who was talking to Rafe must be hard of hearing.

  “So what price are you thinking of selling the ranch for?” the man asked.

  Selling the ranch? She stopped beside the cereal, pretending as though she was studying the shelf in front of her. Rafe was going to sell the ranch?

  “I don’t know, Shawn. I’m still not totally convinced it’s the right thing to do, but the decision has been weighing heavily on my mind.”

  “Well, that’s a huge piece of land. I’m sure you could find someone here in Montana who’ll be interested.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

  “Your land is the best there is, you know,” Shawn continued. “I remember when your father built that barn with his brother, Ted. You and your brothers and cousins were a lot younger.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Yes, I remember that.”

  “Your father wanted it to look old-fashioned. He was always like that, God rest his soul.”

  “Yes, he was very old-fashioned.”

  Holly peeked over her shoulder as her mind pieced together some of the things Rafe had done and said to her when she’d spent the night at the ranch. No wonder he opened the doors for her – because his father taught him. Her heart started to soften, but she quickly stopped it, remembering their last words together and how he’d treated her.

  Shawn slapped an arthritic hand against Rafe’s arm. “And I’m sure he taught his sons to follow in his footsteps.”

  Rafe nodded. “Once again, you’re correct.”

  “Well, for your sake, and that of your cousins, I hope you enjoy this Christmas at the ranch. I hope you appreciate all your father and uncle have done for you young’uns. He took great care of the animals, too.”

  “That, we will, Shawn. In fact, I’m thinking we’ll have an old-fashioned Christmas this year.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Shawn grinned, showing several missing teeth.

  Holly quickly took a box of cereal off the shelf and hurried out of the aisle. Slowly, she walked up and down the next few aisles, but her mind wasn’t on buying groceries. Instead, her memories from yesteryear popped into her mind. She knew that ranch from her childhood, and she could see it clearly. Rafe’s father had had chickens, sheep, and cattle. In grade-school, the students visited the ranch once a year. Steve was in her class, and his father let them all milk the cows and collect eggs from the chickens.

  She recalled there was one year at Christmastime that Mr. Montgomery had set up the barn to look like the manger where Christ was born. He even went as far as attaching a bright star on the tip of the barn’s roof. From her house, she could peer out of her bedroom window and see the bright star as she’d imagined herself to be a shepherd or one of the Wise Men coming from afar...

  Her thoughts of the past screeched to a halt as an idea intruded. The Montgomery ranch would be the perfect place for her mother’s Christmas program. With help from Rafe and his cousins, they could clear out the snow just enough for people to stand – or sit – to watch the program.

  Excitement flipped in her heart as her mind opened and she could picture everything... all the characters right down to every barn animal. And kids didn’t have to dress as barn animals. Her mother could use the real animals to be in the play. Not only that, but Holly could make this her creation. This could be her first movie, and it would be absolutely perfect!

  From one of the other aisles, she heard Rafe’s deep chuckle. Her heart twisted. There was one downfall. She would have to ask Rafe for his help, and she’d have to be nice to him.

  That might be the real challenge, because right now, she didn’t think she could talk to him without being rude.

  Decisions, decisions... Could she get along with him long enough to film her first production? Or would she end up choking him?

  Only time would tell.

  SEVEN

  Ideas bounced around in Holly’s head for the next twenty-four hours. She couldn’t get the movie-idea out of her mind. Every animal, piece of wood and bale of hay had been placed perfectly in her mind. She knew where she’d shoot the scene when the angel appears to the shepherds. She pictured vividly where to shoot the scene with the Wise Men. Even the scene with the innkeeper was clear in her mind.

  A whole new story idea formed, as well. Instead of having the play follow the Bible, she would make this her own creation. The shepherd – one in particular – would be the main character. The story would be about him and how he witnessed the birth of Christ along with the other shepherds.

  Rafe’s barn was the perfect place. Of course, she needed a camera crew. Names popped into her head of people she could call, but she hesitated. She hadn’t talked to Rafe yet, and that, right there, was the very key holding her back.

  She stared at the pot of potato soup on the stove as she slowly stirred the wooden spoon around and around. The aroma of bacon drifted from the homemade soup, making her stomach grumble. Although she wouldn’t call herself a great cook, she made the best potato soup.

  “Something smells good.”

  Her mother’s voice brought Holly out of her thoughts. She spun around to see the older woman hobbling into the kitchen. Holly smiled and turned back to the stove.

  “I’m making potato soup.”

  “Oh, good.” Her mother’s voice lifted. “It’s been years since I tasted your delicious soup.”

  “Well, I was in the mood for it.”

  Holly peeked over her shoulder. “Are you feeling better, then? Have your migraines gone?”

  “Yes, I believe they have.”

  “I’m glad.” Holly moved away from the stove and sat across the table from her mother. “Because I want to talk to you about something.”

  “What is it, dear?” Her mother grasped Holly’s hands. “You look serious.”

  Holly nodded. “I was inspired to make a movie yesterday while in town, but I didn’t want to tell you about it until I mulled it over in my head first.” She took a deep breath, wondering if she was ready to tell her mother. After all, her mother would be delighted that Holly wanted to take on this project, and especially where the project would be filmed. But she didn’t want to tell her mother why she hesitated.

  “At the grocery store yesterday, I overheard Rafe Montgomery talking to another man about selling his ranch, and—”

  “What?” Her mother straightened, her eyes grew wide. “He wants to sell the ranch? Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “Well, you should have. The Montgomery ranch is like a historical monument. It’s been there for many years through generations of Montgomerys. The ranch has been enjoyed by all of Timberland.”

  Holly arched an eyebrow. Her mother had to be exaggerating. Enjoyed by all? She didn’t think so. “Well then, perhaps you should call him and ask him.”

  “I might just do that,” her mother answered with determination in her voice. “Because someone must talk some sense into that boy’s head.”

  Holly didn’t dare remind her mother that Rafe was not a boy. The last time she did that, she had put ideas into her mother’s head. “Anyway,” she continued, “when I overheard this conversation, I recalled memories of being in grade school, and when Mr. Montgomery decorated the barn to look like Jesus’ manger. Do you remember that?”

  The other woman’s face relaxed and she sighed. “That was so lovely. It was almost like we were back in that time...” Her eyes widened again. “Oh, Holly. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Holly chuckled. “I believe so. I’m thinking that place could be where we have this year’s Christmas program.”

  “Oh, Holly.” Her mother gasped and brought her clasped hands to her chest. “That would be the perfect place.”

  “Yes, I know. I have it mapped out in my head, and I think I could make this work.”

  “I can start making the costumes since the others were ruined.”

  Holly n
odded. “And I could find some men who like to work with wood to make the other props.”

  “You don’t need to find those men.” Her mother gave her a quizzical stare. “You already know them.”

  Holly narrowed her gaze. “Men who like to work with wood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s Rafe and his cousins.”

  Of course, they like to work with wood. Just my luck... Silently, Holly groaned. Why hadn’t she figured that out yet? “Well, that would be great if they could spare some time and talents for this project.”

  “I’m sure they’d love to help out.”

  “However, there’s just one drawback.”

  “What could possibly be holding you back?”

  Holding her breath, Holly repeated the words in her head. She didn’t want to let her mother know what was really going on. “Well, I haven’t spoken to Rafe about it, yet. And when I heard he was selling the ranch, I wondered if he would reject the idea.”

  Shaking her head, Holly’s mother flipped a hand in the air. “No, he wouldn’t do that. He likes helping the community. I’ve never met a more giving soul. He really has the biggest, most loving heart.”

  Loving? Not when he likes breaking women’s hearts. Holly held the bitter comment from exiting her mouth. “Yeah, that’s the rumor, but the fact still remains, I don’t know how to talk to him. In fact, I’m really hesitant to say anything to him about it.”

  “Do you want me to do it?”

  Holly paused. Did she? It’d been quite a while since she let her mother fight her battles. Would Rafe see it that way? Working at his ranch was hard enough, but did she want him thinking she was a coward for not talking to him herself?

  “Let me think about how I can approach him.” Holly turned off the stove and moved to the cupboard.

  “You better do it quickly. December 1st is almost upon us. We need to start practicing the program.”

  Holly took down two bowls and placed them on the table. “Yes, I know. But before I do anything, I’ll need to find a camera crew. I doubt anyone in Timberland knows how to film a movie.”