“Oh, we do!” cried Emma, obviously trying to make her feel better. “It’s OK that we can’t play with them. That makes them all the more special.”
Amie smiled but inside her stomach churned. She felt like a fool as she glanced around the living room, adorned with the children’s drawings and cut out snowflakes made from red and green construction paper. Her new friends were likely to think she was a nut case. Why else would haunting memories plague her in the midst of such a happy occasion?
“I’ll go get changed for church,” she told Katie.
“Feel free to lie down if you’re tired.” Katie’s eyes probed her as if she’d guessed Amie’s secret. “We don’t have to leave for another hour. The service actually starts in an hour and a half, but the girls have to be there early for children’s choir, all except for Lucy, that is. She’s too young.”
Emma and Carol showed her to her room.
“It’s perfect. Thanks.”
Katie had followed. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. I mean about whatever’s troubling you.” She rested her hands on her daughters’ heads and suggested they go play. When the girls were out of earshot, Katie moved farther into the bedroom. “You’re probably still recovering from working all those long hours and then getting fired. Tom shared the news with us and we promised to pray for you, Amie. Losing a job can be very traumatic.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Although that wasn’t the whole of it.
“On the other hand, you’ve got so much to look forward to, with the building of the hotel. Why, the entire town is buzzing with excitement.”
Amie’s mood lightened. “I’m glad to hear it.” This time she didn’t have to feign a smile. “We’ll need the community’s support.”
“I can’t begin to tell you what your partnership has done for Tom. It’s as if he’s a new man.” She took a step closer, her forehead creased, her brows drew inward. “What I mean is, Tom has been a believer for years, but he never stepped out in faith before. Jake and I had been urging him to do so, but he was so stuck in the past and too afraid of what people might say to give into God’s promptings.” Her features brightened and the lines of concern on her face disappeared. “Now he’s trusting the Lord to direct his path, instead of letting that old insecurity stifle him. Isn’t that wonderful?” Twin dimples appeared in Katie’s cheeks as her smile deepened. “And, just for the record, I’m not tattling or gossiping. Tom, himself, stood up and gave that very testimony during the mid-week worship service last Wednesday. Jake and I were so encouraged, and we think God’s using what Tom said to light some fires in other Christians’ souls.”
“I pray He will.” Envy nipped at Amie. It didn’t seem fair that her partner could experience such inner healing. But at the same time, she was happy for him. His melancholy was what she’d liked the least about him when they’d first met. That trait now seemed to be the very thing she liked the least about herself.
Up until getting fired, Amie had kept busy. She’d never had time to think about her past. Oh, she remembered it well enough. But each time horrible memories surfaced, she’d quickly suppressed them, locking it tightly inside herself. That was probably why she suffered with anxiety. That secret hiding place inside of her had begun to overflow and soon she’d be overwhelmed. Amie’s gaze landed on her hostess.
Maybe she could talk to Katie. Maybe it would help. No. She’d be duty bound to tell her husband. Not that Amie didn’t trust Pastor Jake. She did. But what if he said Jasper and his reverend were right—that she’d perpetrated the incident? She tasted bile and swallowed hard.
“I’ll stop foaming at the mouth.” Katie’s soft voice penetrated Amie’s thoughts. “You look a bit peaked, so a rest may do you good. I’ll knock on your door about ten minutes before we’re ready to leave.”
“Thanks. And...thank you for inviting me to spend Christmas with you and your family.”
“You’ve said that three times already.” Katie chuckled lightly. And you’re welcome. Feel free to stay here with us any time.”
Amie returned her hostess’ smile.
Katie left, with a small wave at the bed, silently indicating Amie should rest.
The bedroom was a nook which served as a sewing room too. Pattern pieces were stacked neatly beside the machine and portions of material lay in an orderly fashion on half of a long, narrow table. The other half sported Amie’s suitcase.
Opening it, she pulled out the clothes on hangers, hoping they hadn’t gotten too wrinkled from the trip. She hung them on the brightly colored plastic hooks, mounted on the wall since the room didn’t have a closet. That task finished, Amie laid down, intending to take just a short fifteen-minute rest. She closed her eyes and whispered up a prayer. Lord, You are good and everything You do is good. You are love and You love me—enough to die for me. But I have so many questions and so many feelings locked up inside of me. I need You to answer them, Lord. Please help me…
~*~
Amie awakened with a start. She glanced at her cell phone. A half hour had lapsed. She swung her legs off the bed and grabbed the black slacks she planned to wear tonight along with a belted red, silk tunic and black vest. After she’d dressed, she pulled up her hair, fastening it on top of her head with a red ribbon and allowing it to spill down in a chic mess of curls. She was just putting the finishing touches on her make-up, using a small, hand-held mirror, when a knock sounded.
Katie peered around the door. “Ready to go, Amie?”
“Ready.”
Katie opened the door wider and stepped into the room. “Oh, you look pretty in that outfit.”
“Pretty...what?” she teased. “Pretty ridiculous?”
“Pretty pretty.” Katie laughed softy.
Amie noticed her simple red dress with its white lacy collar. “You look pretty pretty too.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Potter.”
Amie curtsied dramatically.
Katie waved her out of the guest room. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we’d better leave now so the girls will be on time.”
“Of course.” Amie turned serious.
At the front door, they donned their winter wraps. The walk to church was a short one since the quaint parsonage sat just beyond a row of pine trees which separated the cemetery from the parsonage. Amie recalled Pastor Jake joking about his “quiet neighbors,” and she grinned to herself.
They entered the church and hung up their coats in the cloak room. Activity hummed from the sanctuary, marked by the excited voices of children who rushed toward the altar where they received last minute instructions from the music director.
Amie hopped to one side so as not to get run over by a group of rambunctious boys.
“Merry Christmas.” Tom stepped into her path, nearly colliding with her.
“Oh, sorry. I…” She hadn’t seen him standing there. She smiled. “Back at ya, partner.”
Katie came up behind her. “Did you save us some seats, Tom?”
“Sure did.” He handed Amie and Katie programs. “First front pew on the left.”
“Awesome.” Katie gave him a grateful smile before looping her elbow around Amie’s and pulling her forward. “This place gets packed on Christmas and Easter,” she remarked with little Lucy also in tow. “Jake always wishes he could get the same crowd in on Sunday mornings.”
“I’ll bet.”
Reaching the pew designated as saved by a row of hymnals, Amie was hard pressed not to turn around and take a second, more appreciative glance at Tom. In dark slacks, forest-green sweater, his hair slicked back and tied at the base of his neck, he looked quite the new man, as Katie had remarked earlier.
The church filled rapidly.
At precisely six o’clock, Pastor Jake stepped up to the pulpit. “Merry Christmas, ladies and gentlemen.”
The crowd quieted. The lights dimmed.
“Tonight is a special service with music and readings from our children. But first, let’s open in prayer.”
Amie bowed her head and closed her eyes. Right before the prayer ended, Tom slipped into the pew beside her and that same awkward feeling that she’d experienced at Thanksgiving settled over her like a fog. It almost seemed as if each time she and Tom saw each other, they had to get reacquainted. Phone calls and emails couldn’t match face-to-face communication.
The prayer concluded.
A group of kindergarten-aged children lined up on the front stairs below the podium. They began to sing Silent Night and their cherubic voices rang throughout the small sanctuary.
Amie smiled.
Katie nudged her. “Can you move over?” she whispered. “The Morrisons need a place to sit.”
Nodding, Amie scooted to her left, causing Tom to slide over.
The children finished their song and row by row exited the stairs. The next group of elementary school kids came up.
“Amie, can you move over a little more?” Katie asked softly, pulling Lucy onto her lap. “Mr. Morrison wants to sit with his family. He was parking the car when they were seated.”
Amie giggled to herself. She might end up like Lucy, only on Tom’s lap. There weren’t any less crowded pews in sight. The aisles were filled with people on folding chairs. Amie inched closer to Tom. He squeezed against the end of the pew. “Sorry,” she whispered.
He replied with an accommodating grin as he shifted his weight to one side and stretched his arm along the top of the pew.
It was a necessary gesture, but he smelled so good. How was she supposed to concentrate on the service with Tom so near? She barely heard the children’s chorus of Away in the Manger. She kept imagining Tom’s arm around her in affection, though it was hardly that. She slowly relaxed and decided to enjoy their closeness. Who would know but God and her? Their little secret.
The last bit of tension in her shoulders ebbed as a group of junior and senior high kids spread out on the stairs and began reciting select Scripture passages from the second chapter of Luke.
“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed...and Joseph also went up from Galilee...To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child...And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger...”
The young people ended their recitation with an enthusiastic version of God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen.
Amie sagged against Tom, although it was hardly the romantic setting it might have been since Katie and Lucy were lounging against her other side, causing Amie to feel like the middle domino.
Minutes later, Jake stepped forward and led the congregation in singing two Christmas carols. A brief message followed.
“Just as our teens sang only moments ago, ‘remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day to save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray.’ The celebration of the Lord’s birth gives us hope for eternity with Him.” Pastor Jake paused momentarily. “I urge you folks who don’t know Jesus to ask Him, the Savior of the world, to be the Savior of your souls. Talk to Him in prayer. Doesn’t have to be fancy or formal. Jesus knows your hearts and loves you with an everlasting love that we humans cannot fathom.” He smiled into the audience. “Not to sound like a greeting card or anything, but Jesus is truly the Reason for the season.” He chuckled. “Let’s bow for a closing prayer...”
The service ended, and everyone rose from the pews as the woman at the old pipe organ played O Come All Ye Faithful.
Amie finally turned to Tom. “I hope you weren’t totally squished for the last half hour.”
A little smile curved his lips and his face reddened slightly. “I survived. Thanks.”
Tom stepped aside and indicated that she should precede him down the aisle. As she did so, she met Nancy Simonson, walking against the crowd to the front of the church.
“Hi, Nancy.”
She smiled a quick greeting at Amie but focused on Tom as she slipped in between the pews. “I couldn’t leave without wishing Katie and Jake and you, Tom, a Merry Christmas.” Her light brown gaze did a quick assessment of Amie’s attire before the corner of her lips moved upward in a semblance of a smile. “And Amie, of course, nice to see you again. Merry Christmas.”
“Likewise.” She eyed Nancy’s protruding middle, covered by the green maternity sweater. “I never did ask—when is your baby due?”
“The end of May.”
“And it better be a boy, too!” a male voice boomed above the din of the humming congregation.
Amie spun around and found Al directly behind her. He blocked half the aisle and glared at Amie through dark, piercing eyes that sent a shiver up her spine.
He lunged toward her and Amie stepped backwards—right onto Tom’s foot. Only then did she see Al’s right hand extended. She murmured an apology to Tom.
“No worries.”
He set his hands on Amie’s upper arms while she discreetly disengaged the high, narrow heel of her shoe from inside his laced oxfords.
“Well, Tomboy, Merry Christmas,” Al said.
“Same to you.” Tom’s breath tickled her neck just seconds before he leaned forward and shook Al’s hand.
Maybe Big Al wasn’t such a bad guy after all, although Nancy did say the man “hated” his daughters. How could that be? They were so adorable.
Katie appeared and Nancy gave her a hug. The two mothers began to chat.
“Sorry I stepped on your foot,” Amie said over her shoulder.
“Not a problem. I’ve got another one.”
Amie smiled at the quip.
Big Al overheard and snorted. “Tom’s used to getting stepped on. The whole town used to step on him, till he inherited a lot of money. Now suddenly Tomboy’s not such a loser.”
Amie gaped at the guy. Had she heard him correctly?
Al laughed. “I’m just kidding, little lady.” He moved sideways and rapped Tom on the shoulder. “Me and him’s known each other since seventh grade.”
“That’s a long time.” She glanced at Tom. No doubt it was a lifetime for him.
“Sure is,” Al said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his khakis.
“But people do grow up, you know.” The words flew off Amie’s tongue like bolts off a lightening rod. “Seventh grade has long passed and, obviously, both you and Tom have changed.”
“You make us sound like old men.” Al chuckled and then his eyes narrowed. “The opposite is true. I’m a man in my prime, but maybe you don’t know what a real man is, huh?”
Amie forced herself not to back down. She lifted her chin. “A real man is one who tries to emulate Jesus. When he fails, a real man takes responsibility for his actions and he’s humble enough to apologize.”
“You sayin’ I’m not a real man?”
“How should I know?”
“We’re in church.” Tom placed his hands on Amie’s upper arms and moved her to one side. “And it’s Christmas, Al.”
“She started it.”
“I’m finishing it.”
Moments of uncomfortable silence followed Tom’s remark, and then Big Al commanded Nancy to the car. He turned and strode up the aisle, allowing his pregnant wife to gather the children and diaper bag, and then follow in his wake.
“What a jerk.” Amie turned to gauge Tom’s reaction and found him looking over the tops of people’s heads. She followed his line of vision to the cloak room where Nancy zipped her daughters’ jackets. Were those clouds of compassion in his hazel eyes, or was that something else she saw? Was Tom still in love with her? If so, would his feelings for Nancy ruin plans he and Amie made to build their hotel? Maybe Amie would be wise to back out.
Tom’s gaze fell on Amie at long last. “I guess I’d better help Jake collect the folding chairs.”
“Yeah, I guess you’d better.”
Whether Tom picked up on her sarcasm or not, he didn’t show it. Folding chairs indeed. He headed for the cloak room.
11
Sno
w flurries danced crazily in the night air, illuminated only by the church’s solitary yard light as Amie and Tom trudged to the Warrens’ house.
Katie and the children had gone on ahead, but Jake was still in the sanctuary, counseling a parishioner.
As they walked the short distance, a weighted silence hung between them and Amie found herself wishing that she didn’t care so much about Tom or their hotel. She’d enjoyed sitting close to him tonight at church. And then, of course, there was the way he always seemed to understand. He was the first man she could ever remember talking to so candidly about everything. Almost everything.
No wonder Nancy coveted his attention—and that was a problem.
They reached the gravel driveway where Tom skidded to a halt. “Amie, can I ask you something?”
She lifted one shoulder. “Sure.”
He kicked slightly at the snow as if collecting his thoughts, while a faint bulb beside the front door cast a shadow across his features. “Amie,” he began again, “are you afraid of men?”
“What? No. Of course not.” The directness of his question caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered. “I’m a single woman and I have to take precautions, that’s all.”
Tom kneaded his jaw and, even in the darkness, she glimpsed his frown. “So, in a word...yes, you are afraid of men.”
“I’m not afraid of them, Tom. Didn’t I stand up to Al tonight?”
“Not really. You challenged him and made him mad.”
Amie willed her muscles to relax and softened her tone. “Let’s put it this way. I’m not afraid of all men, just some of them...until I get to know them. I mean, can you blame me? The world is full of lunatics.”
“Makes sense. I don’t think you’re afraid of me—at least not anymore.”
“I’m not afraid of Big Al either.” Although truth be told, she’d be terrified to come face to face with the guy on a deserted street or parking lot.
“But you were afraid of him when he reached out to shake your hand.” Tom shook his head. “Amie, I’ve seen the way you panic. That’s fear. And you overcompensate for it by your sharp tongue.”
Her Hometown Heart. Page 10
