Her Hometown Heart.

by Andrea Boeshaar

  The tearing of gift wrap paper claimed Amie’s attention. She shooed away her troubling thoughts as Tom opened his present. Out of the box, he pulled out the thick, quality knit sweater, predominantly green in color with other shades interwoven throughout. Amie had selected it with his hazel eyes in mind.

  “Thanks.” He sent her a glance filled with obvious gratitude from his place in the adjacent arm chair. “It’s just what I need, actually.”

  “Good.” A sense of gratification filled her being. “I’m so glad you like it.”

  “Open your presents, Amie!” Carol cried with unmistakable excitement.

  “Yeah.” Little Lucy scooted toward her.

  “That, um, top one’s from me.” Tom raised his voice slightly to be heard above the sudden hum of happiness, filling the room.

  Amie stared down at the large, square, neatly wrapped box in her lap before carefully lifting the taped edges and the removing the colorful candy cane-decorated paper. She inhaled sharply when she spied the darkly-stained wooden box. Upon closer inspection, she saw the intricate carvings on the sides and on its top. On the bottom she found a windup mechanism.

  “A music box.” Smiling, she opened the lid and admired the quilted patchwork piece embedded within its depths. “It’s beautiful.”

  She wound it up, more for the girls’ benefit than her own. Within moments she recognized the tune: You Light Up My Life.

  “Should we play guess that tune?” Jake snorted a laugh.

  “No need.” Amie closed the box and the melody ceased. “I know what it is.” She had a hunch the tune was Tom’s message to her. But, truth to tell, he’d lit up her life.

  Crossing the room, Tom hunkered beside her. “I found this when I was cleaning out the café, and I remembered when Hal discovered this music box. It was in old Mrs. Thornbjorg’s attic. The box was dried out, the bottom of it severely cracked. When Mrs. Thorbjorg died, her family stuck it in a heap of rubbish on the side of the road and that’s where Hal picked it up.” Tom fingered the etchings. “You told me when we first met that you wished you’d known your uncle better...well, he was a man who saw beauty in things that other folks had decided were trash. Like this little jewelry box.” He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes taking on their sorrowful appearance. “Like me.”

  Hot tears threatened as Amie looked back at the expertly sanded and varnished creation. “You’re a beautiful person, Tom. I mean that.”

  “You remind me a lot of Hal,” he whispered.

  The complement sent a surge of emotion trickling down Amie’s cheeks. Amie could only nod a “thank you.”

  “Don’t cry.” Tom’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “They’re happy tears, Tom,” Katie put in, much to Amie’s relief. “It’s a woman thing.”

  Tom blew out a breath and looked at Jake.

  “Get used to it, brother. You’ve partnered with a woman.” He winked at Amie as if to assure her of his jest.

  “Now, Jake…” Katie’s tone held a note of admonition. “You men have plenty of idiosyncrasies that we put up with because we love you.”

  “Thank the Lord for that!” Another chuckle rumbled in Jake’s chest.

  The back and forth between the Warrens allowed Amie to regain her composure. She reached for the tissue box on the end table. Tom’s words moments ago touched her to the heart but riddled her with guilt for her earlier fit of temper too. In that instant, she saw things in a different light, realizing there were a lot people like this box, in need of repair by the Master’s touch. A vision of Big Al came to mind, causing her shame to mount. “Thank you for the gift, Tom,” she sniffed, clutching the piece of artistry. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

  He gave her a warm smile, rising to his feet and Amie became aware that the room had grown oddly still. One quick glance around told her the entire Warren family watched on with tender expressions—even the children.

  Her cheeks burned as if licked by the flames crackling in the fireplace.

  “You’ve got a real talent there, Tom,” Jake’s gaze bounced from Tom to Amie. “I saw the box before and after.” He appeared as impressed as Amie.

  “And Mrs. Jensen was kind enough to sew the quilted liner inside,” Tom added.

  “Thank you,” Amie smiled at him.

  The girls resumed tearing at their gifts. In addition to the dolls, Amie bought them one book each and a video to watch. One by one, they came over to give her a “thank you” kiss on the cheek.

  Katie opened her gift, a bottle of perfumed body lotion.

  Amie unwrapped the present from the Warrens. Katie had stitched her a wall-hanging. The embroidered words read, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you,” says the Lord, “thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11.

  “This is lovely.” And a heavenly reminder which only furthered her regret over her earlier behavior. How could she feel jealous over Nancy when God had wonderful plans for both Nancy and her? The Lord didn’t play favorites. Amie flashed the gift at Tom, who nodded his approval.

  “Well,” Katie said, getting up from the sofa, “it’s time for all girls under the age of ten to go to bed.”

  “Awwww....” the four children replied in unison, sounding utterly disappointed. But after a pointed look from their father, they complied and marched off in the direction of their bedrooms.

  Tom rose from his chair. “I’d better leave, too. Matt’s supposed to arrive bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “Matt?” Amie tipped her head. Should she know who Matt was?

  “My younger brother is driving here from Madison. He’s attending the university there—a junior this year.”

  Jake slung a friendly arm around his shoulders. “Spoken like a proud papa.” Turning to Amie, he added, “Tom had been like a second father to Matt.”

  “Oh, right.” Amie recalled Tom speaking of him. Her uncle had mentioned the young man in the beginning of his third journal. Matt was the “baby” of the Anderson family and Tom, being the oldest, was very protective of him.

  “Jake,” Katie called from down the hallway, “can you give me a hand?”

  “Coming, hon.” He turned to Tom. “See you tomorrow for Christmas dinner.”

  “I’ll be here. And hopefully Matt will too.”

  Jake left the room.

  Tom walked to the front door, pulling his coat out of the hall closet. “I’ll see you tomorrow too, right?” Questions glistened in his eyes.

  “You will, yes.” Amie stood and then leaned against the half-wall which divided the rooms. “Sorry about before...losing my temper and saying things I shouldn’t have. You’re a wonderful man. Honestly, what has me concerned is that Nancy will take advantage of the fact. But I also understand that she’s a new believer in Christ and needs prayers not my condemnation.”

  “True. And I’m a big boy, Amie.” Tom buttoned the front of his coat.

  “I know. I see what you mean now about trying to help the Simonsons.”

  He quirked one eyebrow. “You had a change of heart?”

  She nodded. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Already have, Amie.”

  “Thanks.” She struggled with her pride and shame and stared into his hazel eyes. She saw only tenderness—and maybe something more. Something that told her Tom was not in love with Nancy. Anxious flutters filled Amie’s insides and she looked away. Tom was an empathetic man with a deep understanding of the human heart. But would he understand her hurtful past? If she mustered the courage to tell him?

  Tom pulled open the front door. “Merry Christmas, Amie.”

  “Merry Christmas, Tom.”

  He strode out into the flurries and drove away.

  Amie stared out the window until the falling snow covered his footprints.

  13

  “This looks great!” Matthew Anderson exclaimed, shoveling a fork full of mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth. “Mmm...tastes even bett
er.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying the meal.”

  Katie’s face bloomed into a pretty blush.

  Matt livened up Christmas Day with his quick wit and hearty laughter. The brothers’ interplay was refreshing. Tom acted as proud as a papa over Matthew’s achievements, just as Jake had said. And Tom’s younger brother clearly held the utmost respect for his oldest sibling.

  After a lovely and inspiring Christmas Day service, the men gathered in the living room, Matt talking animatedly about his latest college experiences.

  Amie assisted Katie in the kitchen.

  Once the pork roast was cooked to perfection, everyone took a seat around the expanded dining room table and Jake prayed over the food.

  “The stuff at the university is like cardboard.” Matt set down his fork. “OK, you guys, something’s driving me nuts. I’ve been waiting all afternoon for you to tell me, Tom, but since it doesn’t look as though that’ll happen, I’ll just have to ask.”

  “What’s that?” Tom replied, munching on his salad.

  A lopsided grin formed on the younger man’s lips. “We-ell,” he drawled, “I stopped by the Kelsigs’ on my way into town to say hello to Laura, and what do you suppose her dad tells me?”

  Tom shrugged. “What?”

  “What? What, you say?” Matt threw his hands in the air in mock exasperation, causing Emma and Carol to giggle at his theatrics. “He tells me you two are getting married!” Matt’s gaze slid from Tom to Amie then back at his brother. “You don’t even tell me yourself, you goon. I gotta hear it through the Tigerton grapevine! What kind of brother are you?”

  Tom groaned.

  Amie did her best to hide a smile, sitting across the table from him.

  Jake chuckled openly from the far end.

  “It’s a rumor, little bro.”

  The younger man’s face fell. “Yeah? I thought maybe you would tell me...you know, sort of my Christmas present or something.” Matt turned to Amie. “He hasn’t proposed yet?”

  “Will you knock it off?” Tom sounded genuinely agitated. “The Warrens might understand your warped sense of humor, but Amie doesn’t and you’re making her feel uncomfortable.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Matt gave her a grin that appeared quite penitent. “But, um, seriously...Ron Kelsig really did tell me that.” Matt resumed eating. “I figured it was just talk since you hadn’t said anything to me. I mean, you’ve told me about your plans for the hotel and all.”

  Tom nodded as his gaze met hers. An apology pooled in his eyes.

  Amie sent him a reassuring smile. The talk didn’t bother her. In fact, she wished there was a fraction of truth to it—perhaps even more than a fraction. The silent admission surprised her.

  “I think Amie’s getting used to this particular piece of gossip,” Jake piped in.

  Her smile grew while her face heated and the color of her cheeks most likely resembled Katie’s cranberry sauce. Amazingly Jake had discerned her very thoughts.

  “As for the hotel,” Jake continued, “it’s been one miracle after the other, what with all the bureaucratic red tape that goes along with trying to build a new establishment. But there hasn’t been a single snag.”

  Chewing a bite of food, Tom nodded and swallowed. “It’s been amazing, all right.”

  Jake ran his napkin across his mouth. “And while there are those folks in town who’ll always be critical of somebody trying to do something new most everyone else is excited about Tom and Amie’s new business venture. Even the owners of the Rock-a-Bye have been encouraging.”

  “My father calls it our business ‘adventure.’” Amie laughed softly. “But I have to admit that Tom’s been the driving force behind our accomplishments so far.” She turned to Matt. “He’s been absolutely wonderful. He’s managed everything.” She stabbed a few green beans with her fork. “Frankly, I don’t know what I’d do without him. There wouldn’t be a hotel going up where my uncle’s gas station once stood, that’s for sure.”

  Matt eyed her for a moment, then turned to his brother. “You sure you haven’t proposed to her yet?”

  Tom scowled.

  “I mean, if you don’t want her, I’ll marry her.”

  Amie sucked in a breath and nearly choked. After a coughing fit, she drank some water.

  Jake laughed so hard his shoulders shook. “Oh, I can just hear the gossip-mill grinding on this new tidbit.” He moaned, a sound that ran contrary to the amused twinkle in his Irish-blue eyes. “Quick, Tom, let’s send this hooligan back to Madison where he belongs.”

  Chortles spouted from Jake and Matt while the two oldest Warren girls giggled.

  Frown lines appeared on Katie’s otherwise flawless brow. “That’s enough foolishness, you guys. Poor Amie might never want to eat with us again.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Amie took another sip of water. “My dad and siblings tease me all the time.” She caught Tom’s gaze and rolled her eyes.

  “Then more’s the reason you ought not to be teased in our home.” Katie’s gaze landed on her daughters. “And, girls, you will not repeat this to anyone, understand? Mr. Matthew was joking.”

  “Yes, Mama,” came the unison reply. The girls’ honey-blonde heads bobbed.

  Jake and Matt wiped the grins off their faces. No more wisecracks ensued around the children—or Amie.

  The meal came to an end with talk about football.

  Amie kept busy by helping Katie clean up.

  The evening fell and Katie called everyone around the piano. They sang classic Christmas carols and a few of their modern favorites.

  Amie sat on the couch with Ellen and Lucy curled up beside her. From her vantage point, she observed the Anderson brothers and decided the two resembled each other in many ways—the well-defined jaw line and slight cleft in the chin, the sideways, tear-shaped hazel eyes, and dark brown hair. But where Tom’s features appeared almost worn beyond his twenty-eight years, Matt appeared rather juvenile for twenty.

  Her uncle’s journal corroborated that. Tom’s the fall guy in his family, he’d written. Makes me sick. Tom’s childhood is gone. The boy’s only seventeen years old, but looks and acts twice his age.

  Uncle Hal hadn’t given any specifics, but Amie guessed there had been physical abuse in the home. Tom openly admitted his father’s alcoholism. The diary confirmed it. Still, Tom’s background didn’t lessen her opinion of him. It was as Uncle Hal had penned. Tom isn’t responsible for his father’s bad decisions. Just because old Norb goes and gets drunk every night of the week, doesn’t mean his kid’ll do the same. Tom knows the Lord now. He’s got a lot of character for one so young, and I’m convinced God will guide his path. The boy knows right from wrong. He’s seen the effects of his father’s sin and I don’t believe Tom’ll touch a drop of booze in his entire life. But there are a few strong voices in this town that go around slandering less fortunate folks who don’t meet up to their hypocritical standards and it’s a crying shame that Tom believes what comes out of their mouths.

  A sad chord plucked Amie’s heartstrings when she thought of all Tom must have suffered. At the same time, she was grateful her uncle had been his advocate and, perhaps, his mentor. No wonder Tom missed his fatherly friend so much. She wondered if this Christmas holiday was especially difficult for him.

  Of course it was.

  Amie admonished herself for being so insensitive. She’d never asked. For the past twenty-four hours she’d been consumed with herself.

  The two girls rose from the couch to play with their new toys.

  Tom strolled over from the piano. “Deep in thought?” He sank into the sofa.

  Amie let go a weary sigh. “Ever since I got fired, I’ve been so introspective—and selfish.”

  “You’re being a little hard on yourself, aren’t you? I mean, losing a good job is a major stressor.”

  “True, but thinking about myself so much is making me...” Amie shrugged. “Depressed.”

  Tom covered the top of her ha
nd. The warmth of his palm radiated into her arm. “I can relate, but you and I have a bright future ahead of us. Remember?”

  “We do.” She nodded. Yet fears of how Tom might react to the news of the sexual abuse she’d suffered fought for space inside her mind. Would Tom think it had been her fault, as Jasper and his pastor said?

  “Still, getting canned from any job is a major let-down.” Tom’s voice pulled her from her dark thoughts. “You had a career, Amie. Can’t really blame you for feeling bummed out about losing it.”

  She looked into his face and smiled. “Thanks.”

  “The upside is that now you can concentrate on...what does your dad call it? Our ‘hotel adventure’?”

  She smiled. “Yes, and my father also got me another job in the meantime.”

  Tom furrowed his brows, eyeing her curiously. “I thought you were moving up here.”

  “I am...eventually. But until construction on our hotel begins, I’ve got to do something with myself.”

  He nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” He lifted his hand from Amie’s and sat back against the sofa. After a few moments’ silence, he shot a teasing grin her way. “Just don’t get too comfy at this new job, huh? I’ve gotten rather used to the idea of having my partner around.”

  “Don’t worry,” Amie inflected a note of sarcasm into her tone, “it’s a secretarial position. And you’d realize that was funny, Tom, if you had any inkling as to how disorganized I am. Besides, the job only pays a lower than average wage. I’m practically working for free.”

  “A lower than average wage, huh?” He shook his head, smiling slightly. “It’s probably a better-than-average wage up here.”

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s a better-than-average wage in Chicago, too...for an administrative assistant position. But it’s a far cry from the salary I used to earn.”

  “Welcome to my world.” Tom snorted a laugh.

  His remark made her bristle, and it served as a reminder of the chasm between her world and his. She shook off her aggravation. True, she’d grown up with money, a stately home in a posh neighborhood, and two sophisticated parents who handed her their elite social status.