Drew had called Alison about the funeral and she had offered to sing some of Ettie’s favorite songs. Over the phone, his voice had sounded strained and detached, as if planning Ettie’s funeral had been too much for him. But he’d gratefully accepted her offer.
Alison walked along the muddy path to the old graveyard, her thoughts on the talented woman who’d lived her life without much notice. She deserved more. People needed to know about her. From her tiny cabin in the mountains, Ettie Lee Harper had carried on the musical traditions of her ancestors. And like a gift, she’d given them to Alison. There had to be some way to pay her back.
A small crowd was huddled outside the weathered picket fence and Drew greeted each guest as he stood beside the preacher. When he saw Alison approach, he whispered something to the man, then walked toward her.
“Hi,” he said, leaning close to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for coming.”
“I had to be here,” Alison said. “For you and for Ettie.”
“I think we want to start and finish with a song,” he told her. “The service will be short. She didn’t want anything fancy.”
“I’m sorry, Drew,” she said. “I know how much Ettie meant to you.”
“She was the reason I came back.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “There’s a lunch after the burial, at the church. You should come. We can talk.” He forced a smile. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“Drew, I’ve been thinking and—”
“No, don’t think. Not right now. Can you stay?”
Alison shook her head. “I can’t. I have exams to give and office hours. I have to leave right after the service.”
After their weekend together on the mountain, it had seemed like such a simple thing to continue seeing each other. But since they’d parted, they had been pulled in opposite directions. Though they only lived a few hours apart, they inhabited different worlds with different priorities. No matter how Alison looked at it, the most they could share was a casual weekend relationship. Drew needed to live close to his patients and she needed to be close to the university.
“I have something for you,” he said. “Actually, it’s a Christmas present from Miss Ettie.” He reached in his jacket pocket and handed her a gift-wrapped box. “You don’t have to open it now. Save it for Christmas Eve.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Drew hesitated. “This isn’t going to happen, is it?”
“I don’t know,” Alison said. “It seems so difficult suddenly. I talked to the people from Texas after my recital. I’m their top candidate now.”
“That’s wonderful.” Drew reached up and touched her face. “Do you still want me in your life?”
“Of course I do. But you can’t live in my life any more than I can live in yours. How are we supposed to make this work?”
“I’m a doctor. I can get a job anywhere.”
“But you belong here with your patients. They need you.”
“And I need you.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, if we could gather round. We’re ready to get started. We’ll begin with a song, one of Ettie Lee’s favorites.”
Alison drew a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. “I guess that’s my cue.”
Drew gave her hand a squeeze. “All right. Make it good. Give Ettie a nice send-off.”
As Alison began the song, she felt a wave of emotion come over her. Tears pressed at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. But she focused on the music, on the words Ettie had used that day in the cabin.
She was sad for the loss of Ettie’s talent and all the beautiful songs she still had to sing. Her thoughts drifted to the story Drew had told her about Ettie Lee’s sweetheart, killed in the war all those years ago.
What was she willing to give up to have that kind of love with Drew? The job in Texas? Her teaching career? All of her dreams and aspirations? She stared at the flower-draped coffin. She could never ask him to give up his work here, with these people. What Drew did was life or death. She merely sang songs.
So it would be up to her. If she wanted to love him, then she’d be the one to give up her dreams. Was a chance at love really worth all that? And how often did love fade over time. Alison never wanted to regret her choices.
She looked up and met Drew’s gaze. Her heart ached and a tear escaped and ran down her cold cheek. She did love him, that much she could admit now. But love wasn’t always enough.
“WE’RE DOING THE NATIVITY at precisely seven o’clock and not a moment later,” Alison’s mother called from the kitchen. “And we’re all going to be in a festive mood.”
Alison sat down on a stool in her parents’ kitchen. She’d driven back to Ponder Hill as soon as her exams were finished, packing up the Subaru with gifts she’d purchased and work she planned to do between Christmas and New Year’s.
She’d been thinking about her next step. Her interview was scheduled for the first week in January and an offer would be made by the end of the month. But the closer she got to the job in North Texas, the more she wondered if it really was right for her.
“Frank Bellingham announced his retirement at the Christmas party,” she said. “There’s a tenure spot open at East Tennessee.”
“That’s wonderful!” her mother said. “I hope they’re going to consider you.”
“Maybe. They know I’m up for a job at North Texas.”
“Texas?”
“Just outside Dallas. It’s not far, Mom. And it’s a really good job. I’d be starting a brand-new department. I’d have a chance to build it from the ground up. And hire all the best people to teach.”
“But you’re studying mountain music. Shouldn’t you be near the mountains?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked. “You seem…sad.”
Alison shook her head. “I just have a lot on my mind. Thinking about work.”
The people from Texas had made their position clear. She’d be the point person for the new department, and with that came much more administrative work than she was used to. Teaching would take a backseat. And her publishing schedule would be accelerated. They expected a book and a recording within the first year.
Alison had been thinking about writing a book on Ettie’s life. It would make the perfect summer project. And it would take her back to the mountain—Drew’s mountain. The research would be difficult. There probably weren’t many people alive who remembered her childhood. But Ettie deserved to be remembered, beyond the simple gravestone that marked her final resting place.
“Your recital was so lovely,” her mother said. “I hope they made a recording of it. Did they?”
“Yes. If I go to North Texas, they want me to make a CD.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“It’s just a small, academic label. Nothing big. I’m not going to hit the Billboard Top 100 with the music I sing. But I was thinking that Layla might want to play on it. And you and dad could sing harmonies.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Your father and I don’t sound as good as we used to.” Her mother wiped her hands on a towel. “Honey, go see if you can get Rita out of her room. I need her to iron the costumes for the nativity scene.”
Her two sisters had arrived home before Alison. Layla had rushed off to do last-minute shopping and Rita was locked in her room, upset about something that she refused to talk about. Alison’s father was outside in the cold, trying to prop up the ramshackle stable on their front lawn for just one more year.
The nativity was a Christmas tradition with the Coles and everyone from the neighborhood came. The family dressed up as characters from the Christmas story and gave a concert, which they ended with a beautiful traditional bluegrass arrangement her father had done of “Silent Night.” Alison and her parents sang and Layla usually played, although she didn’t like it. And Rita, when she bothered to come home for Christmas, stood in the shadows.
“How many Christmases has it been?” Alison asked, reaching for
a frosted sugar cookie.
“Ten,” her mother said. “This is our tenth nativity scene. It seems like just yesterday I was sewing the costumes.”
“When was the last time we were all together,” Alison asked. “I can’t remember.”
“Christmas Eve? It’s been a while. Rita wasn’t here last Christmas or the one before.” Her mother smiled wistfully. “It’s nice to have all my girls together again. Honey, I want you to sing those two songs from your recital. The ones by Ettie Lee Harper.”
“I will.” Alison’s thoughts drifted back to the funeral, to the last time she’d spoken with Drew. After the service, they’d stood next to her car, silently holding each other’s hands, both of them knowing that this might be the last time they’d touch each other.
She hadn’t wanted to leave, but in the end had kissed him and promised to stay in touch. It was an empty promise, but it made saying goodbye a bit easier. Although, it hadn’t done much to put thoughts of him out of her head.
She wondered what he was doing, where he was for the holidays. He’d mentioned that he had a sister in Nashville, but for all she knew, he was in Knoxville with his parents. Or maybe even on the mountain, tending to some emergency.
Alison reached for her bag, which was hanging from the back of her stool. She could at least call him and wish him a Merry Christmas. Rummaging through the messenger bag, she came across the small package that Drew had given her at the funeral, still wrapped in red paper and tied with twine. She set it on the counter in front of her.
“A present for me?” her mother asked.
“No,” Alison said. “It’s a present for me. From a friend.”
“Are you going to open it or just sit there and look at it?”
“I—I guess I’ll open it.” She slipped the twine off the gift and tore away the paper to reveal a digital recorder, much like her own. Alison pressed play and the sound of Ettie’s voice filled the room.
“Hello, Alison. This is Ettie Lee Harper. Drew has given me this little recorder and he’s told me I must record more of my songs for you. So that’s what I’ve set out to do. Oh, and tell some of my stories, too. But before I begin, I want you to know how glad I am that you and Drew have found each other. He’s a fine boy and you could do a lot worse.”
Alison switched off the recorder and looked up at her mother. “Who is Drew?” Amanda asked.
“Just a guy I know. Knew,” she corrected. “I met him when I met Ettie. He’s her great-great-nephew. And a doctor.”
“A doctor?”
“Yes, Mom, a doctor. But he doesn’t work in a big hospital and he doesn’t have a fancy house and car. He works out of a clinic in the mountains a couple hours from Johnson City.”
“Sounds like a nice fellow,” she said. “Are you…dating?”
Alison shook her head. “No! We’re just friends.”
The front door slammed and Layla’s voice echoed through the house. “Aly! Aly, where are you?”
Alison’s mother frowned. “What is she shouting about?”
“Nothing,” Alison said. “I’m in the kitchen,” she called out.
A few seconds later, Layla appeared in the kitchen door, her hat askew and her color high. “You have a visitor.”
“A visitor?”
“Yes! He’s standing in the front yard talking to Dad. I walked past and he introduced himself. Tall? Dark? Very handsome? Goes by the name of Drew?”
“He’s here? Outside with Dad?” Alison pushed off her stool and threw her arms around her sister, giving her a fierce hug. “He’s here.” She stepped back. “Do I look all right? Is my hair combed?”
“You look fine,” her mother said. “Go out and say hello. And ask him if he might want to join our nativity scene. We could always use an extra shepherd. I’m sure we have a costume for him up in the attic.”
Alison raced through the house and threw open the front door, then bounded down the porch steps. “Drew!” she called.
He turned and looked at her, his eyes lighting up with laughter. “Alison!”
She ran across the lawn and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. “What are you doing here?”
“Right now, I’m helping your dad fix this stable.”
She pressed his face between her hands and kissed him hard. “You’re the best Christmas present I could have asked for.”
“That’s good. Because you can’t return me.”
“How long can you stay?”
“For as long as you’ll have me.” He set her back on her feet and pulled her toward the porch. “I’ve made some decisions, Alison. I love my work on the mountain, but I love you, too. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I think we have something very special and I don’t want to let it go.”
“I don’t either,” she said, dropping another kiss on his lips.
“So, I figure, I’ll move to Johnson City, we’ll get a place together, and I’ll just make the drive every day to the clinic. And when the weather is bad, I’ll spend the night. And when you’re off in the summer, we’ll go up to the cabin. I’ve already called and we’re going to put in electricity and plumbing.”
Alison sighed. “That’s all right for the summer. But what happens when I take the job in Texas? I’m pretty sure they’re going to offer it to me.”
He pulled back. “We’ll figure that out when the time comes. We’ll see how we feel and make a decision then. For now, I think we need to give each other a chance to make this work.” Drew kissed her. “Just give us a chance.”
She looked up into his eyes. She did love him, even though she’d spent the past three weeks denying her feelings. Now that he was here, right in front of her, Alison realized she didn’t want to walk away again. If she really wanted to grow old with someone, now was the time to start making it happen. And she knew she’d never find another man who made her feel the way Drew did.
“I like the cabin exactly the way it is,” Alison said. “I don’t want you to change a thing. And I have some plans of my own, too. I’m thinking about writing a book about Ettie. And I’m going to interview for a tenure position at East Tennessee. I might just decide against Texas. It’s so much administrative work there and not enough teaching and—”
“So we’re going to make this work, the two of us?”
She stared into his eyes. Alison knew in her heart this was the right choice. She didn’t know exactly how it would turn out, but she knew that she and Drew belonged together. Ettie had sensed it, and now, here they were, at the beginning of their own adventure.
“We will,” she said.
Drew kissed her, his tongue softly invading her mouth, his fingers furrowing through her tangled hair. This was exactly where she belonged, Alison mused. In his arms. Geography didn’t matter.
“Now that you’re here, there is one more thing,” she said. “We have to find you a shepherd costume that fits. Because you could score major points with my mother if you volunteer for our nativity scene. It’s a family tradition. Everyone in town comes.”
Her father laughed and they turned to look at him. “I think Drew would make a fine addition to our nativity scene. Can you sing?”
Alison grabbed Drew’s hand. “I never asked. Can you sing?”
“I think I’m pretty good,” he said.
“All right, then. It’s time you met the rest of the family. You’re going to get a lot of Cole this Christmas.”
COLE FOR CHRISTMAS
Rhonda Nelson
For my mom and sister, who always make sure I have a good Christmas. Love ya’ll.
1
WITH ANY LUCK LAYLA COLE would have gained fifty pounds and developed a skin problem, Bryant Bishop thought as he waited on the tarmac for her plane to arrive. He watched Christmas lights glitter in the airport windows, and country superstar—and his boss—Clint Walker’s cover of “Jingle Bells” drifted to him through the SUV’s speakers.
As Clint’s head of security, picking up a replac
ement mandolin player for the last two dates on a four-month tour didn’t exactly fall into Bryant’s job description, but for reasons he still hadn’t figured out, he’d volunteered to make the airport run.
Clearly he’d gone insane.
In the first place, Layla Cole didn’t like him.
In the second place—as if the first wasn’t enough—Bryant was too intrigued with her by half, and the idea that she was going to be spending three days with them on the road had given him a sense of anticipation, outright excitement and expectation that he’d never experienced before.
As if Christmas had come early and she was the ultimate present.
Oh, yeah, Bryant thought. He’d lost it.
No doubt Layla Cole was going to be someone’s Christmas present—the idea made his gut tense with uncomfortable dread—but she sure as hell wouldn’t be his. Long story short, he’d rebuffed her little sister’s advances and little sister had evidently cried foul, because the next time he’d seen Layla—another party, another friend—she’d been quite cool. Strange how they kept bumping into each other over the years, Bryant thought. They’d never really traveled in the same circles, but the spheres definitely overlapped enough to be jarring.
Or at least jarring to him. And the great pity in all of this? He thought he’d caught a glimpse of mutual interest in her covert gaze prior to the issue with her little sister. Thought he’d recognized a kindred soul. He’d been drawn to her, had loved merely hearing the sound of her voice, had found himself circling closer and closer to where she stood. Compelled, for lack of a better description.
Which made her all the more dangerous and him all the more stupid.
It was a cocktail for disaster, and the hell of it? He was more than ready to drink up.
COUNTRY MUSIC STARS SURE knew how to travel in style, Layla Cole thought as she settled against the king-size leather recliner on Clint Walker’s private jet. She nursed a shot of whiskey—Jack Daniel’s, of course—from a cut-glass tumbler and hoped that the alcohol would relax her enough to get her through this first performance.
It Must Have Been the Mistletoe... Page 7
