by Leigh Bale
He laughed, the sound vibrating through her.
“Sure, I want to help,” Gracie responded with enthusiasm.
After a warm hug, the little girl zipped into the living room, as though searching for her dress.
“Wait until I’m there. I don’t want you to get stuck with pins,” Josie called after her.
Clint gestured toward his daughter. “You sure you’re up to watching her?”
“Oh, yes. It’s no problem, really. We’re going to have lots of fun. I fear you’re getting the short end of the straw with repairing the roof in this cold weather.” Josie stepped out onto the porch with him.
“No problem here. We’ve had several days of sunshine, so the roof is clear of snow.” He picked up a small white bucket.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
“Garbage, to put the decayed shingles in after I remove them from the roof.”
Josie wrapped her arms around herself and peered at him as he hopped down off the porch in one graceful lunge. She couldn’t help admiring his long, muscular legs and wide shoulders as he picked up a ladder and leaned it against the siding. A heavy tool belt hugged his lean hips. Armed with a bundle of new shingles, nails and a thin piece of metal flashing held beneath his left arm, he gripped the ladder with his right hand and stepped up on the bottom rung.
“You sure it’s safe to climb up on the roof loaded down with all those tools?” She touched his shoulder.
He jerked his head around, lost his balance and dropped the box of nails. It hit the snow-covered ground and burst open, the metal spikes peppering the area.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.” She scurried to help him gather up the nails.
“It’s okay. Guess I’m a bit clumsy today.” He gave a nervous laugh.
“As long as you’re not clumsy up on the roof. It’s a long drop down.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Fearing he might think her a bit too forward if she fretted over his safety, she looked away. But inside, she knew she’d be heartbroken if something bad happened to this kind man. Gracie needed him. Having lost her own dad, Josie understood that very well.
Together, they plucked the wayward nails from the snow and deposited them back in the box. Gazing up into Clint’s warm brown eyes when they’d finished, Josie felt as though the summer sun was shining down on her after she’d survived a long frigid winter. A happy feeling pressed in on her. A unique emotion she hadn’t felt in...
Never. Not once in all her life had any man made her feel this way. Not even her two ex-fiancés.
She stepped back, wondering what being near Clint did to her senses. He seemed so grounded. Even when he lost his balance and dropped a box of nails, she felt complete confidence that he knew what he was doing, and would take care of everything.
An odd thought, surely. She had no idea what made her think such things.
“Thanks.” He smiled down at her, stepping closer.
“You’re welcome.” Her lips parted. As she gazed up into his eyes, a sudden breathless tension overtook her. She felt lost and found all at the same time.
“Hey there, Clint!”
Josie jerked back as Doug Parson and Mike Burdett walked up the driveway, neighbors who had lived on this street as long as she could remember. Doug worked for the state road crews as a supervisor and Mike owned a trucking company. Each man carried a variety of hammers and other tools. Josie had already spoken to Mike’s wife, Rachel, about cleaning Gramps’s house every week, once Josie returned to Vegas.
“Hi, Josie.” Mike grinned at her.
“Hi, Mike. You two gentlemen here to help out Clint?”
Doug nodded, flashing a half smile. “Actually, Clint’s doing all the work. We’re just going to inspect it to make sure it’s up to par.”
Josie laughed at Doug’s teasing, impressed that these men would take time out of their busy day to help her grandfather. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much Gramps and I appreciate your help.”
“Ah, it’s no problem. Your grandparents have sure been there when my family needed help over the years.” Mike brushed aside her praise.
“Yeah, mine, too,” Doug declared.
No doubt Clint had called them together. Their generosity touched her deeply. Once again, Clint’s service reminded her that there were kind people in the world. That she wasn’t alone. And she made a resolve to lessen her hours at the pharmacy and start looking for ways to help others. It was time she had a life outside work.
“Good morning, neighbors. You ready to tackle this job?” Gramps appeared, dressed in his winter clothes and packing a beat-up red toolbox.
“Oh, no. Not you.” As he passed by Josie, she grabbed his arm and tugged him back.
His mouth dropped open in surprise. “I’m gonna help.”
“No, you’re not.” She could just imagine her elderly grandfather plummeting off the roof into a snowbank, followed by a frantic race to the hospital in Bridgeton.
“I’m sure not gonna sit inside while all the men are out here working,” Gramps said.
Josie rested her hands on her hips. “Well, you’re certainly not going up on the roof, either.”
They stood there facing one another, a silent battle of wills waging between them. Finally, Gramps relented. “Okay, I won’t go up on the roof. I can just be their fetch and carry man.”
She tilted her head and peered at him with suspicion. “You promise?”
He pursed his lips, his gaze dropping to the ground. He grumbled something about sitting around like an invalid while everyone else did the work, but finally nodded. “I promise.”
He stomped off to join the other men. Looking up, Josie’s eyes met Clint’s and he winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he stays safely on the ground.”
A gentle comfort settled over her and she smiled as the four men huddled together to discuss their repair strategy. Josie took that as a cue to go inside.
Gracie sat before the coffee table, leaning her elbows on top, with her chin in her hands. A bored expression clouded her eyes until Josie appeared. Then the girl stood up straight, a bright smile flashing across her face. “Where’s my dress?”
Josie laughed. “It’s in the back bedroom. Come on. Let’s go see if it fits.”
Taking Gracie’s hand, she led her into the back room. The dress fit beautifully, except the hem was too long.
“I’ll have to shorten it,” Josie said, and reached for the pin cushion.
The girl swirled and swayed, making the taffeta swish around her spindly legs. “Oh, it’s so pretty. Daddy will think I’m beautiful.”
“That’s because you are,” Josie said.
“Thank you.”
Another hug followed. Josie set the length of the hem, relishing this special time with Gracie. Pretending for just a few minutes that she was her mother.
Soon, they retired to the kitchen. An occasional thump and tapping on the roof told her the men were hard at work. As she reached for the flour and mixer, Josie couldn’t help feeling a sudden warmth deep inside her soul. The sense that God loved her, and had sent good men over to repair Gramps’s roof and this endearing child for Josie to love.
Grandma had told her the Lord used other people to perform His work. Maybe even Josie was God’s tool to help Clint, by making the dress for Gracie. She’d never thought of it that way before. And right now, she knew Gracie needed time with a mom. It felt so good to fill that role for the little girl.
Thirty minutes later, Gracie stood on a stool happily stirring sugar into the batter. “Dad and I are gonna go visit Santa down at Milton’s grocery store when he’s finished with the roof.”
“Oh?” Josie looked up as she reached inside the fridge for the eggs and milk.
&
nbsp; “Yep, and I know just what I’m gonna ask Santa for, too.”
Josie hid a smile, wondering if she dared ask. She waited, thinking the girl might volunteer the information. She thought about the little porcelain doll, books, games and hair ties she’d purchased the day before to give the girl, and figured Gracie was at the age when she loved doll houses, nail polish and pretend makeup, too.
“And what would you like this year?” Josie finally asked.
“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.” The girl hummed a tune as she popped several chocolate chips into her mouth and chomped down.
Josie shrugged this off. Maybe Gracie feared she might not get what she wanted if she told anyone but Santa.
When they pulled the first batch of cookies out of the oven, Gracie sampled one with relish.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Josie warned.
“Mmm, these are the best cookies I’ve ever had.”
“They are?” A feeling of harmony settled over Josie. For some reason, the little girl’s approval meant everything to her.
“Yes. Can I take some to Dad and the other men?”
“Sure.” Josie helped Gracie pull on her coat, then got a plate out of the cupboard and layered cookies on it before handing it to the girl.
“Careful, now. Hold the plate with both hands so they don’t spill.” She opened the door and the girl carried her offering outside. The screen door clapped closed behind her.
“Those are for me?” Josie heard Gramps’s gravelly voice coming from the front yard.
“Yep, and the other guys, too. Josie and I made them,” Gracie said.
Josie could just imagine the men devouring the soft cookies, and a smile of satisfaction curved her lips.
The buzzer sounded and she pulled the next batch out of the oven. As she sat at the table and placed dollops of dough onto the pan, she accidentally knocked Gracie’s red gloves to the floor. When she reached down to pick them up, a white piece of paper fell out of one glove. Josie couldn’t help noticing Santa’s name scrawled across the front flap in a child’s handwriting. She didn’t mean to pry, but the letter lay open for her view and the request was quite short. Expecting a request for various dolls and games, she quickly scanned it.
Dear Santa,
I’ve been extra good, so I know you’ll grant my wish. I want Josie for my mom. Dad doesn’t think I know he’s lonely, but he always looks so sad when we’re at home. And Josie and Grandpa Frank are lonely, too. We need to love each other. We should be a real family. That’s all I want.
Gracie Karen Hamilton.
Her hands trembling, Josie folded the letter and tucked it back inside the glove. Glancing over her shoulder, she felt a wave of guilt and helplessness. She shouldn’t have read the letter. No wonder Gracie didn’t want to tell her what she wanted for Christmas.
It touched Josie deeply to know that she was Gracie’s Christmas wish. That the little girl thought enough of her to want her for a mommy. And realizing these things made Josie wish her life could be different. That perhaps she and Clint could...
No! She mustn’t think that way. It wasn’t possible. She lived in Vegas. Clint lived here. It would never work.
But in her heart of hearts, Josie couldn’t help wishing she could be Gracie’s mother. She envisioned marrying Clint and celebrating next Christmas like a real family, right here in Camlin. They’d be so happy and in love. And he wouldn’t mind that she was unlovable and emotionally inaccessible. But that would mean she’d have to abandon her job in Vegas.
She shook her head, returning to reality. She’d messed up with her other fiancés. Her career had kept getting in the way. Clint and Gracie deserved someone that could be there for them at the drop of a hat. Not a workaholic who didn’t know when or if she’d be home to fix supper in the evenings. Besides, Clint wasn’t interested in her. His service here at Gramps’s house was a church assignment, nothing more.
And now what? How could Josie pretend she didn’t know the letter’s contents? How could she pretend she didn’t know Gracie’s true feelings? Or ignore her own loneliness?
And worse yet, how could she ever look at Clint in the same way?
* * *
Sitting at the table in Frank’s kitchen, Clint bit into a piece of divinity and smiled with satisfaction. Doug and Mike had already left, each carrying a plate laden with mounds of chocolate chip cookies and candy Josie had presented to them for their families to enjoy. In spite of telling himself this service project was just about taking care of Frank, Clint enjoyed Josie’s appreciation. Karen had always hidden out when people came to their home. Instead of scurrying to the back of the house somewhere, Josie had stayed out front and showered them with kindness.
Standing at the kitchen sink wearing a gingham-checked apron edged by red rickrack, Josie looked domestic and attractive. A strand of long hair hung across her flushed cheek, and Clint’s hand itched to reach out and feel the silky texture between his fingertips. It’d been so long since he’d held a woman in his arms, and he couldn’t help wishing...
“Hop. That’s the word you want, Grandpa Frank.” Gracie’s voice came from the living room, where she was practicing reading with Frank. Her voice brought Clint back to reality.
“I’m so relieved that’s finished and no one got hurt. In these slick conditions, you could have fallen off the roof,” Josie said, oblivious to his wayward musings.
“Actually, the roof is completely dry. The sun has done its work over the past few days, but the weatherman is forecasting another storm on its way. We got the work done just in time,” Clint said.
“Thank goodness. Were the shingles in bad shape?” Josie asked as she dried a clean mixing bowl with a dish towel.
“Not as bad as I thought. We had to replace quite a few and repair the flashing around one of the vents. The rest of the roof appears to be sound. If we had ignored the problem, it could have easily worsened. I didn’t want Frank to have a leaking ceiling come February or March. Once the snow melts off in the spring, I’ll check it again, just to be sure. We can do more thorough repairs then.”
For some reason, he felt like talking. It was almost as though a surge of adrenaline pumped through his veins. He looked up and noticed a sheen of moisture in Josie’s eyes. She turned away, as though embarrassed by her emotions. He could tell she was touched by this outpouring of love from her neighbors. And wham! A lightning bolt struck him from across the room. This was where he belonged. Here with this woman.
He choked on his cookie and coughed. She stepped near and pounded him on his back. “You okay?”
He nodded, thinking he’d lost his mind. “Yeah, I’m fine. Your divinity is delicious. Very sweet.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and went back to washing dishes. He watched her for several minutes. When he wasn’t trying, he felt as though he’d known Josie all his life. Felt he could say anything to her and she’d understand. But then he remembered his failings with Karen and he felt suddenly out of place. If that wasn’t bad enough, Josie would be leaving soon. It’d do him and Gracie no good to become overly attached to her.
“Why haven’t you remarried, Clint?” she asked.
He blinked, stunned by her question. He coughed again, trying to find his voice.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.” Her face flushed a pretty shade of pink.
“No, it’s okay. Although it is a very personal question.” He wasn’t sure he was ready to discuss his personal life. And yet he longed to confide in Josie.
“And?” she persisted.
“Truthfully, I haven’t remarried because I figure I don’t deserve a second chance.”
“You mean because your first wife died?”
“Yes, but also because of the way she died.”
“And how was that?”
He he
sitated a long time. “She took her own life.”
Okay, he’d said it. But the words seemed to pour out of his mouth without his permission.
Josie flinched, her eyes filled with sadness. “I’m sorry, Clint. Suicide can’t be easy on the loved ones left behind.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. And what about you?”
“Hmm?”
“Why haven’t you married? And don’t tell me it’s because you haven’t met the right man yet.”
Her gaze slid to the ground, but not before he saw the regret and disillusionment in her expressive eyes. “Actually, I’ve dated a lot. I’ve even been engaged twice.”
“Really? And what happened?” he pressed.
“Me. I happened.”
He quirked one brow. “I don’t understand.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a perfectionist. Working all the time. Everything in its place. Neat and tidy. No room for error. You could say I worked a lot of late hours.”
Clint understood that dilemma. Especially during the summer months, when he worked some very long days.
“I failed. I couldn’t make them happy.” Her voice sounded small and wounded.
Clint couldn’t help comparing her doubts with his own. He couldn’t make Karen happy, either. “What do you mean, you failed?”
She hesitated, her shoulders tense. “My last fiancé told me I worked too much and was bitter and unlovable, and that I’m emotionally inaccessible.”
Unlovable? Inaccessible? Clint laughed, not believing that at all. Not when Josie had little trouble confiding in him. In fact, he’d never met a more loving, caring woman in all his life. Completely adorable and lovable.
“I doubt that. Not from my experience,” he said. “Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe your fiancé wasn’t the right man for you, after all.”
She gave a scoffing laugh. “I don’t know anymore. It doesn’t matter now. But lately, I wonder if he was right. I have stopped working such long hours. I love my job, but it doesn’t keep me warm at night.”
Clint rested his hand on her arm and gave a gentle squeeze. “I sure would never describe you as bitter or unlovable. In fact, you’re just the opposite.”
