How could she have done that for him, despite whatever pain had derailed her faith? He looked heavenward.
God, show me how to bring your light back to her.
Chapter Two
The bell jingled on the door. Carly glanced at the clock. Was Drew back already? She lay her paint brush on the palette and walked back into the front of the shop. She smiled when she recognized an elderly lady who’d frequented the shop in recent days. Her flowery knee-length dress with delicate cream lace around the neck matched her usual sunny disposition.
“Hi, Ms. Lottie. What brings you by this morning?”
“Just plain ‘Lottie.’” Her eyes danced. She unclicked the snap on her purse and reached inside for her glasses. “No sense in being formal.”
“Manners was one of the few things I learned growing up.”
“Even so…” Lottie pressed the glasses onto her nose and grew serious. “I need a vase for my god-child’s wedding. Think you have something that’ll beat what I can find at the mall? I don’t relish riding over there.”
“I think we can find something in here.” Carly motioned for her to follow her to a shelf on the side of the store. “If you don’t find what you’re looking for, we can brainstorm, and I’ll make something.”
Lottie’s face lit up. “You would do that?”
Carly nodded. “For you, anything.”
The elderly lady’s grin grew wider. “Good to hear.”
They stopped in front of the shelf, and Carly handed her a small slender glass vase with red and silver roses painted on it. “The glass is hand-blown over in Cashiers, and then I paint the roses on. If you don’t want glass, I have a selection of ceramic vases and accent bowls.” Carly moved down the aisle to the next arrangement.
“No, no, this is exactly what I wanted.” Lottie traced a thin, trembling finger over the roses, her elderly veined hand resembling the vines running up the vase. “The artwork is impeccable.”
“Thank you, Ms…I mean…Lottie.”
Her shoulders straightened, and she handed the vase to Carly. “This is the one I want.”
“I’ll gift wrap it for you. I have an assortment of wedding paper, if you’d like to choose a pattern.”
Lottie waved her away. “I’ll let you decide.”
Carly stepped behind the counter and wrapped the vase in tissue paper then secured it in a box. She selected a soft cream-colored paper with roses to match the vase and started wrapping.
“Do you go to church somewhere, dear?” Lottie peered over her glasses still perched on the end of her nose.
Carly’s stomach tightened. “No, ma’am.”
“Maybe you’d like to go with me one Sunday.”
“I’m pretty busy.” How lame. Carly focused intently on securing the wrapping with extra tape.
“I understand. But we all need some down time.”
Carly snuck a peek at the elderly lady, who wore a smile like a banner.
“And what’s better than spending a Sabbath in the house of the Lord?”
Yes, indeed. Well, she didn’t have an answer for that. To her horror and surprise, she heard a voice saying, “I’ll think about it.” Did that come out of her mouth? No, why couldn’t she simply say no? She straightened and looked at the petite gray-haired lady beaming in front of her. That’s why.
“Great. How ‘bout I come by for you this Sunday?”
Carly swallowed hard. Ride in that oversized, 1990s Buick piloted by one of the fastest drivers in Bethlehem? She held her breath every time she passed Lottie on the streets. “No, thank you. I’ll meet you there.”
Lottie took the package and patted Carly’s hand. “Good. Meanwhile, I have a favor to ask.”
Going to church wasn’t it? Carly cleared her throat. “Sure, what is it?”
“The annual Christmas pageant is coming up. We need help with the set design. It’s old and rickety—like me.”
Carly laughed. “You’re not rickety.”
“I assure you, I am. Nonetheless, we need help.” Lottie searched her face. “Would you consider helping us?”
“I…uh…well,” Carly stammered.
“No need to give me an answer now.” Lottie reached out and squeezed her hand, flooding Carly with memories of her grandmother. She didn’t trust her voice with the ache filling her.
When Lottie reached the door, she called over her shoulder, “Sunday will be soon enough. See you then.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Carly dropped her head into her hands.
What had she gotten herself into?
***
“Mmm.” Carly wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Best turkey sub ever.”
Drew grinned. “Hungry, huh?”
She nodded. “Starving. Seriously, thanks for bringing me a sandwich. My packed lunch consisted of chicken noodle soup out of a can and crackers.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t starve off that.”
“Exactly.” She took another bite then reached for her soda. Normally, she’d steer clear of sharing a meal with a man, but something about Drew made her feel secure. She shook her head. Where did she get such a crazy thought? He’d been a complete stranger two days ago.
“Enjoying that conversation with yourself?” He reached for a barbecue chip.
“At least I don’t argue with myself. Not much, anyway.” Her cheeks warmed. “I guess there’s too much rolling around up here.” She tapped her temple.
He wadded up his Subway wrapper and leaned back in the wooden slat chair, lifting its front legs off the floor. “Care to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
She smiled. “Actually, I’ve been asked to help out with the Christmas program at the Methodist church downtown. You know, help with set design, and oversee the painting and artwork.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Not really.” She sighed and tossed her sandwich wrapper in the garbage.
“I’m not catching on.”
“I haven’t been to church in years.”
“So why did they ask you? Doesn’t someone within the church do that sort of stuff?”
“Usually. But one of my customers, Lottie Mae Adkins, asked me to help out.” Carly stood and straightened the table where they’d eaten. “She’s elderly, and well…”
Drew set his chair down, the legs thudding onto the wooden floor. “Special?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds like my grandma. When she was alive, she could get me to do anything. Didn’t matter if it was a hailstorm and a monsoon combined. If she needed something, I was out the door and down the road.” His words soothed the ache in her soul, empty now that her own grandmother was gone.
“Sounds like a great lady.”
“She was.” He stood and reached for the vase of flowers Carly had on the table before they ate and set them in the center. “I’m not an artist, but how does that look?”
“Can’t really mess up flowers.”
He clutched his chest. “Ouch.”
“Seriously.” She flashed a smile and stepped back behind the counter. “I’ve got three paintings to wrap this afternoon, and then I’m headed to Charlotte for an exhibit. Thanks for the sandwich and the company. It gets kind of …” Lonely? Yikes, what am I doing pouring my heart out to this man?
Drew grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “Say no more. I’ve got a wayward brother to track down, anyway.”
Was he leaving for good? Of course, he was. He was merely a customer. She summoned her courage. “Feel free to stop in any time.”
A smile lit his eyes. “Sure. I’d like that.”
***
Wednesday morning Drew strolled into the garage, this time finding his brother in riding gear and the shop empty.
“Where is everybody?”
“Why weren’t you at the race Saturday?” Keenan’s shoulder-length brown hair hung into his face as he strapped on his chest protector and pulled on his dirt bike boots. He reached into his gear bag, pulled out his g
oggles, then looked up at Drew. “Well?”
No small talk, huh? His brother brewed more than usual. He’d placed in the top ten in the race, so it had to be something else. Drew crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Had business to attend to.”
Keenan grunted. He slipped on his gloves and stood, coming almost face-to-face with his brother. “Sounds about right.”
Drew held his gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Always something more important—”
“Than you? Yeah, sometimes the world turns without you being there for it to rotate around.”
Keenan’s face clouded, and his hands balled into fists. “You’re pushing it.”
It was Drew’s turn to grunt his dissatisfaction. “Lighten up. I went up to the mountains intending to take care of some business then head to the track. The weather stopped me. In Cashiers.” His memory of Saturday with Carly, rain pelting the tent, and their comfortable chat warmed him.
Keenan cocked his head. “What’s that goofy grin for?” His eyes widened, and he snorted. “Who is she?”
Drew turned away, rubbing his neck. “It’s not like that.”
“Woo-hoo, big brother’s got a lady. Again.” Keenan strode toward the dirt bike, jumped on, and kicked the engine over. He revved it up, spewing bluish-white smoke into the air.
“Why do I put up with this?” Drew muttered and crossed the garage. He snapped off the bike’s ignition.
“Hey, I’ve gotta warm it up before I can ride.”
Drew put up his hand. “I came to make sure you’re okay. I know you have a tendency to…celebrate…too much.”
Keenan’s eyes narrowed. “What’s it to you?”
“Second, I wanted to invite you to church on Sunday.”
“Nope.” Keenan checked his clutch then kicked the engine over again. He shouted above it. “You got your answers. I’ll see you later.”
“What’s the matter?” Drew crossed his arms and waited.
Emotion flitted across Keenan’s face before he clouded up again. He released the throttle and let the bike idle. “Lost one of my sponsors. At this rate, I’ll never make pro.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t let it worry you too much.”
“Someone has to worry about you.”
“That’s Mom’s job.” He revved the engine again.
Drew stepped back. “Speaking of which—do you wanna drive down to Mom’s tomorrow night and have dinner?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” He climbed down from the bike, lifted it off its stand, and remounted. He putted until he reached the garage door and then accelerated across the worn-down grassy parking lot and hit the track, where he launched into second gear.
Drew shook his head. “Lord, will it ever get any easier with him?”
A question with no answers. At least not at the present. He flipped open his cell phone and googled the address of the Methodist church in Bethlehem. The men’s ministry director there was a friend of his and had invited him more than once. If Keenan wasn’t going to church, then Drew would visit a different one this week.
He rubbed his chin and thought back over his conversation with Carly at her shop. Slim chance she’d be there, but if his motives for attending happened to include her, was that so bad?
Chapter Three
Carly scanned the church for Lottie in the sea of unfamiliar faces. Her stomach churned as she took a step down the aisle. She’d arrived early to try to avoid being caught in this situation.
Rats! This is why I don’t like coming to church. Lots of people I don’t know staring at me.
She caught the elderly woman’s wave across the sanctuary. Carly exhaled and hurried to her side.
“Oh, I’m so glad you came, dear.” Lottie scooted over for Carly to sit. She grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.
Carly tried to still her trembling hand.
“Don’t worry, we don’t do snakes or anything here. We’re Methodists.” Her mouth quirked a smile.
“Oh, my.” Carly gasped and then giggled.
Lottie looked pleased. “We’ll eat at Fiesta when we’re done. My treat.”
The organist started playing the introduction and the choir filed into the loft, so Carly didn’t have a chance to respond. For the next hour, she joined the congregation in hymns and listened attentively to the pastor’s message. No fire and brimstone. Her shoulders softened, and she settled into the pew. She could do this. Before she knew it, the closing hymn played, and she stood next to Lottie, enjoying the sound of her warbly soprano. Tears stung her eyes as she thought of her grandmother.
Carly looked at the cross on the wall behind the choir. She’d never been able to reconcile her feelings in church with the silence she felt when she prayed. Did God truly care about her? He’d never answered a single prayer, so how could she know for sure? She shook her head. Coming to church scraped an old scab covering her heart.
She cleared her throat as people mingled and trickled out. “I’ll meet you at Fiesta, okay?”
Lottie nodded. “Sure. Get us a table. I’ll be there shortly. I wanna speak to a couple of people first.”
Carly turned and hurried toward a side exit. Her breath caught when she saw Drew standing next to the door chatting with another parishioner. What was he doing here? Was it because of her? Her cheeks warmed. No, he couldn’t know she would be here. Could he?
His eyes brightened when he looked up and recognized her. His usually unruly hair was neatly groomed. A clean shaven face, as appealing as the stubble he’d sported the last few times she’d seen him, smiled at her. With his dark sport coat draped over his arm and a pale mauve button-down shirt tucked into dress slacks, he couldn’t possibly get any more attractive.
By the time she reached the door, he’d said his good-byes and turned to face her.
“Carly, I didn’t expect to see you.” His woodsy cologne floated through the air assuaging her senses.
Didn’t you? She flashed a smile. “I didn’t know you attended here. Don’t you have a church in Hickory?”
“Thought I’d try something new for a change.”
She frowned. “This doesn’t have anything to do with our conversation the other day, does it?”
“No, not really.” He smiled sheepishly. “Okay, a little.”
She crossed her arms. “So you’re a stalker, huh?”
His eyes sparkled as he put his finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t say that so loud in church.”
Giggles bubbled inside her. “So you admit it?”
“Actually, I have friends who attend here, so I thought I’d join them today. Based on your comments the other day, I doubted you’d be here.”
Smiling, she hitched her purse strap over her shoulder. “Good seeing you again, but don’t let me keep you.”
He slipped his arms into the sport coat and straightened the collar. “I’m leaving anyway. Care to have lunch?”
“Sorry, I’m meeting Lottie. We’re going to discuss the Christmas pageant.”
His eyes widened. “So you agreed to help?”
“Couldn’t really say no.”
“If you need an extra set of hands, I know a strong man who’d be willing to help.”
What would it be like to count on someone like Drew? Strong, yet kind, seemingly with a servant’s heart. A ray of sunlight caught her eye from the stained glass window and warmth filled her. She looked down and fumbled for her keys inside her purse, unwilling to meet his gaze. It would be a disaster if she fell for him. She’d never fit into this world. Yet, something about him was hard to shake. “Thanks. I might take you up on that.”
He touched her arm. “Is something wrong?”
She swallowed hard. “No. I’ve really gotta go now.”
“Sure. See you ‘round.”
Every inch of her screamed at her to run from this man, but she willed her feet to methodically walk down the sidewalk and to her car.
God, if you’re up there,
now would be a good time to intervene. Don’t let this man hurt me like the others have.
She glanced heavenward.
Silence.
She blew out her breath, fluffing her bangs, and threw her car into gear. Why did she even try?
***
Drew tossed the last of the cord of wood into the back of his pickup bed and clanged the tailgate shut. He stripped off his gloves and shoved them in the back pocket of his jeans. If he could get this finished before lunch, he’d still have time to see if Carly and Lottie needed help with the Christmas set and get back to Hickory in time to meet with a client then attend midweek evening services at his church.
“I don’t know why you can’t just write me a check.” Keenan leaned his back against the fence post, his elbows resting on top of the wooden fence and his boot heel hitched up on the bottom railing.
“Because I’ve already written you one this month.”
Keenan’s face clouded. “Boy…” He muttered something unintelligible as he turned away from Drew.
“What did you say?”
He looked back. “I said, ‘Seems like you have charity for everyone except me.’”
Seriously? Drew inhaled deeply and counted to ten. “I’ll tell you what, help me deliver this firewood, and I’ll give you an extra hundred dollars.”
Keenan’s eyes brightened, and he rubbed his hands together. “Now you’re talking.”
“Grab that tarp and help me secure it over this wood.”
Keenan caught the edge of the tarp and tied down his side while Drew did the same. Within minutes, they were winding up the road that trailed deeper into the mountainous countryside.
When Drew pulled up in front of an old wooden single-story home, Keenan grunted. “I’ll wait on you.”
Drew shot him a look. “Nothing doing.” He tossed him an old pair of gloves that lay in the console of his truck.
Keenan held his gaze then took the gloves and climbed out.
Silent Stars of Bethlehem (O Little Town of Christmas) Page 2
