One Bright Christmas

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One Bright Christmas Page 22

by Katherine Spencer


  Never one to back down from a challenge, Lauren pulled out a pair of leather work gloves she’d swiped from her father’s workbench. “You forget, digging through manure is a big part of my job, Aunt Jess. I’m no stranger to the stuff.”

  Her aunt laughed and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Lauren, you’re one of a kind. Scratch that, you’re actually just like your mother, but she’s definitely a unicorn.”

  “So that makes me a unicorn two-point-oh?”

  “At least two-point-oh.” Her aunt found her a pitchfork and shovel and showed her where to leave the dirty straw.

  Lauren slipped off her jacket. The barn was heated a bit for the animals, but fresh air flowed through the open doors, and her aunt had opened the shuttered windows, too. She liked working in the cool air; even the tangy barn smell had an earthy honesty about it. She’d been through a hectic, demanding workweek. Immersing herself in a purely physical and mindless activity was the perfect antidote. If she still lived in the city, she would be hitting the gym right now for a long, challenging workout—an intense spin class, followed by sprints on the treadmill and lifting some free weights. Mucking out barn stalls was somewhat equivalent, if you put your back into it, she decided.

  She’d finished with the first stall and had just started on the second when a red pickup truck pulled up and parked between the house and barn.

  Lauren’s stomach turned in a knot. She knew who drove that truck. He quickly hopped out of the driver’s side and went around to help Phoebe out of her car seat.

  Jessica was outside the barn, and they talked for a moment. Lauren felt as if she were hiding—cowering, actually—in the shadowy barn. Then she rallied. Why are you hiding? You have nothing to be ashamed of. He’s the one who should have gotten in touch. Even if only to thank you again for helping Wilbur.

  And you look like a farmhand and smell like one, too, she added in a silent singsong voice as she tried to straighten herself up a bit.

  No hope for that. She pulled on her jacket and stepped outside. Cole was already walking toward the barn. To seek her out, or to load his pickup with his share of the donations? She wasn’t sure. His serious expression wasn’t giving much away.

  But someone was thrilled to see her.

  “Lauren—it’s me. Phoebe. Remember?”

  Coming from an adult, the question would have been sarcastic, but Lauren knew the little girl meant it sincerely. She crouched down and opened her arms for a hug. “What a question! How could I ever forget you, you silly thing?”

  Phoebe hugged her tight, which was a very sweet feeling, then stepped back. “Why didn’t you come back? You said you would.”

  Lauren felt sorry for disappointing her. She shouldn’t have done that, no matter what had—or had not—gone on with Cole.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I meant to. But I had a lot of work this week. My aunt Jess kept me up with Wilbur’s progress, though. Sounds like he’s totally well again.”

  “He got bigger, too. Daddy said he might have to live in the barn soon.” She seemed sad about that. “But not right away. He misses you.”

  Bigger in a week? It was possible for a piglet, she supposed. She was touched to hear Wilbur missed her. At least two members of that household did. It was probably too much to ask that she’d won over three out of three.

  “I have to visit him. Before he forgets all about me.” She stood up but held Phoebe’s hand. “I’ll come by in a few days. I promise.”

  As she came to her feet, her youngest cousin, Lily, ran to greet Phoebe. “Want to help me feed the rabbits? My mom said we can let them hop around the barnyard a little.”

  Phoebe’s face lit up at the invitation from the older girl. But she glanced back at Lauren, looking torn.

  Lauren smiled and touched her shoulder. “Go ahead. Those bunnies are hungry. I’ll be here.”

  As Phoebe ran off, she noticed Cole standing near, his hands in the pockets of his barn coat. “Guess Phoebe gave you the update on Wilbur?”

  “She did. My aunt kept me up on the patient’s news this week, too. Sorry I didn’t touch base. I was so busy at work. Great to hear the little guy pulled through.”

  “With bacon flying, you might say.” His reply made her smile despite herself. “We just swung by to pick up some hay. Your aunt got a big donation this morning.”

  “Yup, heard about that, too.” She didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but she was standing practically hip deep in it.

  “Hey, let me help. I can muck out with you. Looks like Phoebe wants to stay awhile.” He turned, looking for another pitchfork, and found one hanging on the barn wall.

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  He ignored her, his guilt about not calling her prodding him, she suspected. He found a pair of gloves and began to work beside her in the same stall, which suddenly felt very small.

  After a few minutes, he paused, slipped off his barn coat, and hung it on a hook. “Lauren?”

  She stopped working and turned to him. “Yes?” Had he remembered some appointment he needed to keep or errand he needed to run?

  “I want to apologize. For not getting in touch this week, I mean. I was swamped with that Auckland project, working all sorts of crazy hours—”

  She raised her hand. “No worries. I get it.” She paused and glanced down at the pile of manure that had amassed between them. “I’ve been shoveling this stuff all morning. You don’t need to add to it, Cole.”

  He had the grace to blush, then laughed. “You called me on that one.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation.” She shrugged. “We’re both grown-ups.”

  “One of us is.” He stared at her and sighed. “You scare me. To be totally honest. But I’ve decided that’s okay. I might even like it.”

  His words surprised her, right to her toes. “I do? I mean, you do?” She paused. “I don’t understand. What are you trying to say?”

  “I didn’t call because I rarely confide that much about myself to anyone. Especially a woman I’ve just met. Now you know all about me, and I’m not sure I like that. But I like you,” he added quickly. “I wanted you to know all that stuff about me. But it felt strange after. I didn’t like that part. But I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”

  She liked hearing him say that. A lot. It made up for everything. “I understand. I really do,” she assured him. “I usually don’t download my life history either.” Especially about her spectacular failures in work and relationships. And on a first date, she nearly added, though she caught herself in time. Their time together watching over Wilbur had hardly been that. “It felt jarring afterward to me, too. I mean, we barely know each other.”

  His shoulders relaxed and his expression softened. “I wouldn’t say that. We met almost a month ago.”

  “Has it been that long?” Lauren acted like she hadn’t been aware, though she had, in fact, counted the days.

  Cole met her gaze and held it, his expression warm. Lauren felt better about everything. The pungent scent in the horse stall seemed like a garden breeze on a spring day.

  The sound of gravel crunching in the driveway broke the spell, and she dropped straight down to earth when she recognized her mother’s huge white SUV pulling up and parking right behind Cole’s truck.

  What was her mom doing here today? Why wasn’t she overworking herself at the bakery, as usual?

  The passenger-side doors flew open and Lauren’s little sister Betty jumped out, along with two of her friends. They ran to meet up with Lily and Phoebe, who were in the front of the barn wrangling huge lop-eared rabbits under Jessica’s watchful eye.

  Her mother climbed out, waved to her sister-in-law, then headed straight to Lauren.

  “Hey, honey. I wondered where you disappeared to this morning.” She paused, fanned her hand near her nose, and took in Lauren, mucking out the stalls. “I know you want
to make a career move, sweetie, but don’t you think this is a little . . . drastic?”

  Lauren hated herself for her adolescent eye roll but couldn’t control it. “Funny, Mom. Who let you out of the bakery?”

  “Just dropping off your sister and her friends, since you weren’t available. They’re going ice-skating with Lily.”

  Before Lauren could stop her, her mom turned to Cole. “Hi, I’m Lauren’s mom, Molly Harding.” She held out her hand and Cole shook it. He seemed amused by her mother already. A good sign, Lauren thought. Guys who met her mom were either charmed or terrified.

  “Cole McGuire. Good to meet you.”

  “McGuire . . . the Pig Guy? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “About Wilbur, she means,” Lauren quickly interjected. She gave her mom a look, but her mother ignored her. She hadn’t confided anything about Cole to her mother, except to explain why she wasn’t coming home Sunday night. But it never took Molly long to connect the dots. Lauren knew she couldn’t get around that.

  “Yes, about the little pig. He sounds so cute,” her mother said in an overly sweet tone. “And about your little girl, too. She sounds adorable.”

  Cole smiled. “She is.”

  “I’d love to meet her sometime.” Her mother looked at Lauren. Lauren stared back, hoping to convey the message that if her mother dared to invite them to dinner without her approval, she would never, ever forgive her.

  “Phoebe is playing with Lily and the girls. Feeding the rabbits,” Lauren cut in.

  Her mother paused. She seemed to understand the look, but would she charge ahead anyway? “That’s all right. Don’t disturb them. I have to run. Some other time,” she said decisively. She smiled at Cole. “Nice to meet you, Cole.”

  “Good to meet you, too, Mrs. Harding.”

  Her mother glowed with her triumph. “Call me Molly. Everyone does.” She looked back at Lauren. “I don’t know when I’ll be home; I hope you can start dinner. And leave those boots outside the door before you go inside, please.”

  With a little wave, Molly trotted out of the barn and headed toward Jessica.

  Lauren stood simmering and speechless. She turned to Cole. “That was my mom. In all her glory.” Almost all her glory, Lauren silently amended. All in all, she felt relieved that her mother had not been quite as nosy and embarrassing as she could have been, meeting Cole for the first time. She was sure that her mother sensed Lauren’s attraction to him in her uncanny, intuitive Mom way.

  “I’ve heard a lot about her. It was nice to finally meet her.”

  “She has a reputation, that’s for sure. I love her to pieces, but she can get out of control.”

  “You seem to keep her in hand.”

  “Barely.” She sighed and picked up her pitchfork. “My family is crazy.”

  “I’m getting the idea. I’ll proceed with caution,” he promised.

  His reply surprised her. She hadn’t tossed out the comment about her family thinking he’d ever meet them. But it seemed he thought he would, sooner or later.

  She didn’t know what to say to that.

  They made short work of clearing out the rest of the stalls and putting down fresh hay. Then they joined her aunt and the pack of little girls who were gliding—with a range of skill—across the frozen pond. Jessica had found Phoebe a set of skates that fit well, but she sat close to Jessica, inside a gazebo perched at the water’s edge, seeming too shy to join in the fun.

  “How’s it going, honey? Don’t you want to skate?”

  “Lily offered to take her out. I did, too. But she wanted to wait for you, Cole,” Jessica said.

  “Me? I’m like Frankenstein on ice. I don’t have any skates.”

  “What’s your shoe size? We’re well stocked,” Jessica said.

  “Ten,” Cole answered.

  “How about you, Lauren?”

  Lauren hadn’t expected to skate, but Phoebe tugged her hand—and, simultaneously, her heartstrings.

  “Oh, about a nine. And a half—or a ten, maybe? Ladies’ ten, I mean.” She avoided Cole’s gaze, embarrassed by her shoe size. When they were growing up, her sisters had called her Big Foot. “But you’d look silly on smaller feet,” her mom would say, trying to comfort her. “You’d tip over.”

  “No worries. We have skates for everyone.” Jessica headed for a little shed a short distance up the path from the pond. She soon returned, and everyone got busy lacing up and wobbling around on the ground.

  Lauren hadn’t been on skates in years. She expected to fall flat on her bottom. A few times. She just hoped nothing horribly embarrassing happened, like hearing her jeans split open, or causing a huge crack in the ice.

  But there seemed no choice but to get out there as Phoebe gazed up at her, ready to go. She wanted to hold Cole’s hand on one side and Lauren’s on the other.

  They stepped out onto the ice gingerly, and Lauren found that her body remembered what to do faster than her mind did. She offered silent thanks for her innate athletic ability. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all?

  Cole had not exaggerated when he’d called himself Frankenstein on ice. His knees remained stiff and he practically clomped from place to place.

  It didn’t take long before he ended up in a heap on the ice, with his arms waving like a wind turbine and a shout of “Whoooaaa!” that made Phoebe laugh out loud.

  Lauren quickly glided over. “Are you hurt?”

  “Only my pride,” he admitted, scrambling to rise. She extended her hand and yanked him to his feet.

  He sighed and brushed off his pants. “Maybe I’ll just watch awhile.”

  “Okay. You get your sea legs back. Phoebe and I will take a spin around the pond. Ready, Phoebe?”

  Phoebe looked excited and scared, too. “I’ll try.”

  Lauren extended her hand, and they took off slowly while Lauren gave her a few simple instructions: First, to look up at where she was going, not stare at her feet. Next, to shift her weight from one foot to the other and so push herself forward in a gliding motion.

  “The straighter the blade is turned, the faster you’ll go. If you want to slow down, make a V with your feet, like this, and dig the side of the blade into the ice a little.”

  Phoebe tried—not perfectly at first, of course. But with Lauren holding her steady, she was definitely getting the idea and had greatly improved by the time they returned to their starting point.

  “I can skate, Daddy. Did you see?”

  “I did. You look like a pro. Now you can teach me, kiddo.”

  “Lauren can,” Phoebe said brightly. The older girls were calling her again and she wobbled off to join them.

  Cole smiled at Lauren. “I’m game if you are. I warn you, it won’t be as easy as it was with Phoebe.”

  She extended her hand. “Okay, Frank. I’m no Olympic champion, but I can show you the basics. Follow my instructions and don’t get overconfident?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  They started off slowly, with Cole gripping her hand. It was a far different feeling than holding Phoebe’s, she reflected. She delivered the same basics and a few more advanced tips. He moved in a slower, stiffer way than the little girl, but that was to be expected. What she didn’t expect was that almost every time she glanced his way, she found him looking at her. “It helps to keep your chin up and look straight ahead?”

  “Wasn’t I doing that?”

  “Not exactly. And don’t lean too far forward, or you’ll—” But before she could explain what would happen, it did and he started falling face-first, his arms swinging wildly again.

  Lauren quickly tugged him back, and he slung his arms around her for balance. They ended up spinning in a circle, a totally unintended advanced move.

  “Wow, look at us,” he said, gazing around. “Is anyone getting this on video?”r />
  “We’d go viral on YouTube. Unidentified skaters turn into human gyroscope,” she announced in a wry tone.

  He starting laughing as they continued to spin. “You’re an armful,” he said decisively. “I like that, too.”

  Lauren blushed at his admission. He wasn’t as tall as Joe, but tall enough, with broad shoulders and a heavier build. He was just right for her.

  They finally slowed down and came to a stop, both breathless. He could have let her go, but he didn’t. He gazed into her eyes and smiled. “I think I like skating more than I remembered.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed.

  Moments later, they continued around the pond, not talking, just gliding side by side. Their metal blades scraped the ice in a perfect rhythm, and frosty puffs of their breath mingled in the cold air.

  Lauren gazed at the blue sky and sunshine that filtered through the winter woods. The mellow light seemed to flow right through her, and she felt happy. Happier than she’d been for a long time. This day had turned out to be much different than she’d expected. And far better than she could ever have imagined.

  Was this what her mom called “going with the flow”? If so, she would have to try it more often.

  * * *

  * * *

  Reverend Ben always made time to visit members of the congregation who were ill, especially if they were in the hospital. On Saturday afternoon, he went to visit George Krueger, who owned Krueger’s Hardware on Main Street. George had been suffering from a kidney stone and had gone in for a treatment to have it pulverized with a laser beam.

  He found the patient in good spirits; the procedure had been simple and successful. George’s doctor had just stopped by to say that George was perfectly on track with his recovery.

  “A zap or two, the doctor got rid of the whole thing. Like my grandson playing a video game,” George reported. “I’ll be home in a day or two. Fine with me. That movie star down the hall is getting the lion’s share of attention. We poor mortals need to press the bell for a nurse till our fingers fall off.”

 

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