“Including me, I know. But it doesn’t matter. They won’t see anyone else once you walk into the room.” She radiated joy. Abe Mott was a lucky man. How had his sister found the man of her dreams at such a young age while the woman God had chosen for Joseph continued to elude him? His thoughts drifted to Alice Johnson again, and he wondered if she might be the one.
“We’re praying our love will be as eternal as the Word of God. ‘For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven.’ “Grinning, Jean opened a well-worn book that looked vaguely familiar to a page where the text appeared beneath an artist’s rendition of an evening sky. “I’ve used this little book so much that Mama says I should carry it down the aisle instead of the Bible I won.”
The sight of the book triggered a memory in Joseph’s brain. A dark-haired girl with bright brown eyes, smart as a whip, who could out-quote anybody when it came to scripture. “Polly Jessup gave that to you.” He snapped his fingers. “For your thirteenth birthday.”
“And then she helped me memorize every verse. She’s the reason I won that year.” The grin left Jean’s face. “Polly hasn’t had an easy time of it since her mother died. Promise me you’ll say hello to her today.”
“Of course. I’m looking forward to seeing all my old friends.”
Jean’s mouth opened but she didn’t speak right away. “Good. Come down as soon as you’re ready.” She hugged him and disappeared out the door.
What was Jean about to say? Joseph mused. Give him time, he’d figure it out. After all, he was a lawyer.
He headed down the stairs.
“Polly Jessup.”
Polly repressed a shudder. Of course Alice Johnson had come; everyone in Breading was invited. But her derisive tone made Polly’s name sound like she was a misbehaving schoolgirl sent to the corner, even though Polly had excelled at her lessons while Alice had struggled. At the teacher’s request, Polly had tutored the banker’s daughter so she could pass English. But the effort hadn’t earned her so much as a thank you.
Polly reminded herself to be pleasant to Alice. After all, the Bible said she showed her love for God by how she loved others. Forcing a smile on her face, she turned around. As she expected, Alice was dressed in a style straight from the latest issue of Godey’s magazine. The ecru silk and lace that adorned her claret-colored dress and outlined the bodice was not only expensive, it wasn’t available locally. She might have had her father order the material all the way from New York.
“Look who’s just arrived.” Alice spoke to someone behind her.
Eyes as piercing blue as a summer sky, hair the color of hay in the fall … all six feet of him. Joey. Her Joey. With Alice.
“Joseph, you were asking after the Jessup girls earlier.” Alice batted her eyelashes at Joey as boldly as any flirt. “As you can see, they’re here.” She twined a gloved hand around Joey’s arm.
“Polly.” Joey eased away from Alice and grasped Polly’s hand. “Let me look at you.” He looked her up and down, as if committing every detail to memory in case he needed to testify about her in court, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You and Jean grew up while I was gone. Come this way. I know my sister is eager to see you.”
He offered Polly his free arm and walked with the two women to the corner of the room where Jean held court. At the sight of Polly, she stood. “Oh, good, you’re here. Now we can get started. Mama? Papa?” She nodded at her parents.
Jacob Carpenter, an older, craggier version of Joey, clapped his hands for everyone’s attention and motioned for quiet. “Mrs. Carpenter and I have invited you here today to celebrate with us. It gives us great pleasure to announce the engagement of our dear daughter, Jean Louise, to Abraham Mott. They’re planning a spring wedding. Mrs. Carpenter insists they cannot do it any sooner.”
Applause sprinkled with chuckles greeted the announcement. While Abe’s father expressed his delight at the upcoming nuptials, Polly looked around for her father. Noise sometimes bothered him. She scanned the crowd and saw him in the corner. Her little sister was tugging at his arm and pointing at the table, where a specially decorated cake waited.
Maybe Hazel didn’t realize she should wait for a piece of the cake. Polly decided she’d better check it out and excused herself from the people around her. Before she reached them, Pa nodded and headed for the table. A sinking feeling formed in Polly’s chest, and she pushed through the edge of the crowd.
Mr. Mott was finishing his speech. “… you may all enjoy the cake that Mrs. Carpenter has made for the splendid occasion.”
Every head turned in time to see Pa placing a corner piece with plenty of icing on a china plate and handing it to Hazel.
A high, piercing laugh floated across the crowd. Alice.
A look of panic replaced the pleasure on Pa’s face, and he dropped the plate, the china shattering into dozens of pieces.
Chapter 2
One glance at her father’s face erased any anger Polly felt. He reminded her of a cat that was unsure why people didn’t appreciate the mouse he dragged into the house.
“Let’s go find a seat, Pa.” She led him toward the kitchen where he could escape the stares. Jean and her mother followed a few steps behind, and Polly scanned the room for the broom closet. As many times as she had visited in their home, she should know where to find it. At last she spied it and grabbed the broom and dustpan.
“Don’t you worry with that.” Mrs. Carpenter took them out of her hands. “You take care of your father. Are you all right, Mr. Jessup?” She spoke as she might to someone who was hard of hearing—slowly and loudly.
“I’ll be fine if people stop screaming.” His gaze took in the room and settled on Mrs. Carpenter. “Who are you? You’re not my Mary.”
A puzzled look crossed her face, and she took a step back.
“No, I’m your neighbor. Rose Carpenter.”
Pa blinked. “You’re not Mrs. Carpenter. She is.” He pointed at Jean.
Please, heavenly Father, not now. Polly had never seen Pa this confused. He clutched his coat close about him and crossed his arms, staring at the floor. “I’m so sorry.” At least the kitchen afforded them some privacy, preventing the other guests from seeing him disintegrate before their eyes. She’d known the Carpenters all her life; they were good, decent people.
“How can we help?” Mrs. Carpenter asked, but her gaze shifted to the door.
“I think he just needs peace and quiet. I’ll take him home.” Polly swallowed her disappointment.
Jean hugged her. “We’ll talk later. I’ll tell you all about it.”
“No need for the rest of your family to leave.” Mrs. Carpenter went to the door. “We’ll make sure they get home safely.”
Polly nodded. “Come on, Pa. Let’s go home.”
He accepted her arm. “Whatever you say, Mary.”
Mary might be her real name, but Polly knew that’s not what Pa meant. He thought he was talking to her mother.
What next?
Joseph stared at his mother and sister as they scurried through the door after Polly and her father. He took a half step in their direction before realizing someone had to attend to the rest of the guests. If he could divert people’s attention from whatever happened, he would be doing everyone a favor—perhaps Polly most of all. The fathers of the newly affianced couple talked together, and Abe looked lost without Jean by his side. Joseph decided to take charge.
“Please, everyone, help yourselves to a glass of lemonade while we prepare to serve the cake.”
Mrs. Mott took her position behind the table with the bowl of lemonade while Joseph headed in the other direction. Chocolate icing stained the carpet like muddy boots after a rainstorm. He grabbed a napkin to pick up the cake crumbs.
“Do you have to do that?” Alice’s soft voice tickled his ear. “You’ll get the legs of your trousers dirty.”
At the touch of her hand, his knee dropped to the floor. As she predicted, chocolate frosting smashed into his dark twill trous
ers. He brushed at it with the napkin, dropping all the pieces he had managed to pick up in the process.
“Joseph,” Alice squeaked and searched around the table for more napkins.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered why Alice wasn’t helping clean the floor. Then he reminded himself that she was his guest, not a family member.
Frustrated by his lack of progress, Joseph headed for the kitchen and met Jean at the door, broom in hand. She saw the guests clustered around the punch table and sighed in relief. “Thanks, brother.” Within a couple of minutes, she had swept the mess away and cut the remaining cake into pieces.
Joseph took two pieces and joined Alice by the window.
“Poor Polly. Mr. Jessup works at the bank, you know, but after today, I don’t see how Father can trust him not to make mistakes.” Alice nibbled at the cake like a rabbit, one tiny bite at a time.
Something about Alice’s comment set Joseph’s teeth on edge. She had no right to make fun of Polly or her family. “Mr.
Jessup is one of the finest men I’ve ever met. He taught me most of what I know about the Bible.”
Alice leveled an indulgent look at him that bade him stay quiet. “You haven’t seen him for a long time. He changed after his wife died. Everyone says so.”
Joseph was considering the implications of Alice’s assertion when a stranger, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, approached and extended a hand to Joseph. “I was hoping to make your acquaintance today, Mr. Carpenter.”
“You have the advantage of me, sir.” The men shook hands. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Gabe Noell, at your service. The fine folks at Breading Community Church have invited me to carve a life-size nativity scene as part of this year’s Christmas celebration. But I’ve been wanting to meet you to talk over some business. Can we get together on Monday morning?”
Did Mr. Noell represent Joseph’s first client in Breading? “I’d love to, but where shall we meet? I confess I don’t have an office yet.”
The bearded man waved away Joseph’s concern. “We can meet at the church if that’s all right with you.”
Something in the man’s gray eyes captured Joseph’s attention. “At eleven?”
“Eleven it is.” The hand that grasped Joseph’s was strong, calloused, the hands of a workman.
“He comes well recommended as a wood-carver,” Alice told him. “I wonder why he wants to see you.”
Joseph made a noncommittal sound. If the man wanted to discuss business with a lawyer, Joseph wouldn’t reveal it to anyone.
“Joseph.” Jean approached them next. “You must come. People are anxious to speak with you.”
If not Gabe Noell, another person would be Joseph’s first client—and that person probably stood in this very room. It was time to celebrate Jean’s engagement and reacquaint himself with his friends and neighbors.
Polly packed hay around the gravy boat, turkey platter, and cake plate. She loved sharing Mama’s Flow Blue china of royal blue patterns swirling against a white background but at the same time feared something irreplaceable would break. Irreplaceable in terms of both monetary and sentimental value.
But today the Breading Community Church would celebrate the first Sunday of Advent as well as the Sunday after Thanksgiving. People brought whatever leftovers remained from their individual family feasts and enjoyed fellowship together. Polly looked forward first to hearing the pastor’s sermon. Every year he preached a special series related to the Christmas season, something that always added to her anticipation of the holiday.
Better to wonder about the pastor’s sermon than when she might see Joey again. After the embarrassment at last week’s engagement party, she wouldn’t blame him if he avoided her. Who would be interested in a young woman who came saddled with a ready-made family and a father given to unpredictable behavior?
Because they were bringing Mama’s china, Polly sat in the back of the wagon. She kept the box containing leftover pie, turkey soup, and the Flow Blue as steady as possible. Dolores took Polly’s usual place next to Pa on the front seat, while Hazel nestled next to her on the wagon bed. Her twin brothers rode with their legs dangling over the back.
Getting to church was much easier since Pa had sold the farm and moved into town to work at the bank. Polly hoped to arrive early and get Pa settled in, but the Carpenters’ surrey already stood beside the building. Joey caught sight of Polly as he assisted Jean from the carriage and waved a greeting. The moment Jean had both feet safely on the ground, he headed in their direction.
“Good morning, Mr. Jessup, Dolores.” Joey shook Pa’s hand and glanced at the back of the wagon. “Polly.”
Polly’s heart melted. Joey greeted them as if nothing had gone wrong at his sister’s party.
“Joey.” Pa’s face lit up with pleasure and recognition. “It’s good to have you home again.”
Joey helped Dolores from her seat, and she giggled. Polly waited for her brothers and Hazel to climb down before she scooted forward, her skirts scrunching beneath her, hampering her progress.
“May I help you with that?”
Amusement gleamed in Joey’s blue eyes, and heat rushed to her cheeks. I must look ridiculous.
“It’s my mother’s china. I’m always careful whenever we bring it.”
He bent over the side of the wagon and tugged at the box. “Is this it?”
“Yes.”
“Let me take it out first so you can be sure it’s safe. Then I’ll help you down.”
Before she could protest, he hefted the heavy box onto his shoulder and, whistling, carried it to the church hall where they would enjoy the fellowship meal. Mrs. Denton, the pastor’s wife, met him at the door to let him in.
Why am I sitting here like a lady waiting on her escort? Now that her movements wouldn’t jostle the china, she could move about more easily. About the time she reached the end of the wagon bed, Joey trotted back, a frown on his face.
“I asked you to wait for me.” He put his hands around her waist and lifted her from the wagon as easily as if she were Hazel’s size. His hands lingered on her waist for a moment after her feet touched the ground. “Don’t you know I just want to help?” he asked in a low voice.
Unable to look in his face, Polly’s eyes sought the ground. Heat poured through her from the inside out, causing her to shiver where the cool air struck her hot skin. Joey tucked her shawl about her shoulders.
“Joseph! There you are!”
At the sound of Alice’s voice, Joseph stepped away from Polly. Enough heat to cook an egg rushed into her face.
“Please turn in your Bibles to the first chapter of Luke, verse forty-six,” Pastor Denton addressed the congregation.
Beside Joseph, Alice took out her fine-tooled leather Bible and rustled through the pages. His eyes strayed across the row in front of them where Polly put her arm around her little sister’s shoulders and helped her find the spot in her Bible.
“Please stand and listen as I read aloud.”
By the time Joseph found the passage, the pastor had started reading. He could see Polly mouthing the words as if recalling them from memory. “‘And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.” Polly didn’t miss a bit until Pastor Denton concluded his reading of Mary’s song.
“This year for Advent we will be considering the character of Mary, the woman God chose to give birth to His Son. We can learn a lot about the person God wants us to be by studying her life. First, we are going to look at her capacity to glorify the Lord. Look at the words she uses in the burst of praise she gave voice to when Elisabeth extra greeted her. She glorified the Lord, she rejoiced in God, she said He had done great things.”
For the remainder of the sermon, Pastor Denton outlined many ways Mary lifted up the Lord. “Was Mary having a mountaintop experience when she arrived at Elisabeth’s house? No. She had gone to her cousin’s home because of the rumors flying around Nazareth about her pregn
ancy. But she still rejoiced in what God was doing in her and through her and for her, regardless of the difficulties it presented. Can we say the same?”
His words sobered Joseph, and he remained thoughtful after the service. God had led him to return to Breading, although he could have joined a profitable practice near his school. Whatever challenges he faced paled when compared to what Mary endured. He prayed he would praise God whatever the future brought, starting with his meeting with Gabe Noell in the morning.
On Monday morning, Joseph arrived at the church a few minutes before eleven and heard someone whistling. He followed the sound and found Gabe Noell working in a lean-to behind the building. Bundled in a jacket and overalls, the wood-carver was studying a chunk of pinewood in front of him.
“Mr. Noell?”
“Ah! Joseph! You found me. I was about to head inside.”
“I followed the music.” Joseph smiled. “But we’d probably be warmer inside.”
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to stay out here. At least until I show you what I’m working on.”
That surprised Joseph. Most artisans he knew preferred to work in private. But the carver laid out several good-sized pieces of pine. The trees grew in abundance near Breading and seemed the logical choice for the manger scene. Perhaps Gabe felt more comfortable telling Joseph his problems if he kept his hands busy.
“Let me tell you about my plans,” Gabe said.
His plans? Did he need Joseph to draw up a will?
“The church wants a manger scene that can be displayed outside, to remind all the people of Breading of the reason for Christmas.”
Joseph wondered when Gabe would get to the point, but he played along. “How many figures have they asked you to make? Joseph, Mary, and the baby Jesus? Or more as well?”
“Well, that depends partly on you.”
What? Did he need Joseph to negotiate a contract for him? “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“The church wants the figures painted as well as carved. But if I do that, it’ll slow me down. Besides, I’m a wood-carver, not a painter. So you see, I thought another artist could help me design their faces.” He handed Joseph a piece of paper with rough sketches of the three main figures. “Work together, you see. So. Are you interested?”
Woodland Christmas Page 8
