Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection

by Sophie Barnes

  Chapter Nine

  THE DAYS LEADING up to the Christmas pageant resembled each other in every way. Ginny woke up at the same time, prepared breakfast for herself and her father (though she didn’t eat). She opened the store and went about her daily business. The one stark difference in this week from the last was that Phin wasn’t a part of this routine. She’d become too dependent on watching him saunter in with that teasing smile, and too accustomed to the fun she had when he was around. He’d left, and she was sad to say, a part of her she’d come to like had disappeared as well.

  She tried to smile as often as possible to avoid any more concerned looks from her father, and though she doubted she fooled him, he’d respected her enough not to come out and ask her what was going on. He’d managed, “Just tell me this, are you all right?” and when she’d nodded, he’d seemed satisfied, proving that fathers couldn’t compete with mothers in some respects, and unfortunately, Ginny didn’t have someone she could speak to about Phin. Not when it was something so personal and so intimate. If only his kiss weren’t seared in her memory, she might be able to sleep at night.

  A part of her knew she’d pushed him away. If he wasn’t here, it was her fault. Then the other half of her reminded her that she’d done what was best, for surely if he’d had stronger feelings for her, he would have stayed. She had these mental bouts all day, neither side winning over the other. It hardly mattered now because he was, in fact, gone, and should he return, things would be different. That was the good thing about time, she supposed. She could hide her feelings and thoughts in time and try to forget.

  GINNY TRUDGED INTO the bakery on Christmas Eve alongside her father. She was quick to blow into her gloved hands to warm them from the cold outside. Her father nodded a greeting to Mrs. Jameson, then went to the back to collect Mr. Jameson, as he did every year. It was tradition for the two families to walk to church together for the pageant, then have supper together at the Jameson table.

  Ginny focused on trying not to freeze to death when Millie came bounding through to the front and hugged Ginny with all her might.

  Ginny couldn’t help laughing as her friend pulled away, keeping her hands on Ginny’s shoulders.

  “I’m getting married!”

  Ginny’s amusement turned to shock. “What? To whom?”

  Millie laughed and hugged her again. “To whom? To Ed, of course.”

  “You’d have to be blind not to have noticed his pursuit of Millie,” Mrs. Jameson said.

  Millie turned to her mother and giggled. “Oh, don’t listen to her.” She returned her attention to her friend. “He came over this morning and asked Pa for my hand. And then he asked me. Of course, I said yes.”

  “Naturally,” Ginny murmured. She couldn’t believe the plan had worked, and so soon. Phin had been right. All Ed had needed was a little nudge to make him aware of his feelings. She let herself be embraced again.

  “I’m so happy for you, Millie.”

  “Not as happy as Hank,” Mrs. Jameson said dryly.

  Millie laughed. “Oh, I know! Ginny, it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s going around the house with the biggest smile, as if he were the one who was going to get married.”

  Ginny felt a genuine laugh bubble up inside of her because she knew exactly what it was Hank Jameson was celebrating.

  “Come on, you cheerful lot,” Mr. Jameson called, tugging on a hat and gloves as he made his way to the front. “You’ll have months yet to gab and gossip about Millie’s wedding. We don’t want to be late. I’ve got baby Jesus,” he said, patting the bundle tucked under his arm.

  Ginny listened to Millie’s excited whispers about the proposal as they walked arm in arm to the church, feeling relief at being able to focus on something other than Phin. For once, Millie’s mother was not part of the conversation, as she was too busy scolding her husband for carrying the porcelain Jesus as if he were a pile of dirty laundry, to which Mr. Jameson responded, “I’m just keeping the little fella warm.”

  Ginny felt her own excitement welling up; it wouldn’t be long before people would have the gifts they’d wished for. Instead of getting creative to somehow secretly distribute the gifts all at once, as she and Phin had originally planned, Ginny realized that it would be easier for her to do so in two waves. She’d been stealthy as she delivered the first gifts, whose recipients would receive them once they reached home after the pageant. Thankfully, Phin had dealt with the bigger projects prior to leaving. The piano for the Wilders would be delivered sometime after Christmas, and the stained-glass window for the church was on a train traveling to Preston that very moment. She would sneak out later tonight to leave the rest of the gifts on doorsteps, and the thought made her giddy. Who would have guessed she’d be playing Santa Claus this year?

  The church looked lovely, with boughs of pine and holly pinned to the pews and another larger garland decorating the pulpit in front, with several white taper candles adding a nice, homey glow. The small stage was already set up to look like a barn, with an empty manger in the middle, where Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt’s baby would be placed later in the program. Ginny always felt most moved by the spirit of Christmas when she was in this building during the pageant. Despite the hardships or weather, or whatever trials a person was dealing with, it was all put to the side on this day to celebrate with friends. Her heart might be sad, but she had plenty in front of her to lift her spirits. She turned to Millie and smiled at her, at the flush of happiness that had her eyes glowing. She glanced to her other side to see if Bea and her family had arrived and felt her smile slip. Phin was by the front entrance of the church, and he was looking directly at her.

  Ginny’s father came to her side and bent to whisper in her ear. “Darlin’, Phin would like a word with you outside.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him even as her father waited for a response. She drank in every detail of his appearance. His expression was serious in the extreme. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold, and his hair was shorter than the last time she’d seen him. She realized he’d only been gone four days. It had felt like a year. Ten years.

  Her father repeated himself, and she locked gazes with him. He gave her a peck on the cheek, which was alarming, and cupped her chin. “Go on.”

  HER LEGS WEREN’T steady as she walked over to him, and they threatened to buckle when he guided her back outside into the empty path.

  They didn’t say anything to each other for several minutes. She could only stare at him and remember the last time they’d seen each other. She couldn’t take it any longer, and she cleared her throat. “You came back.”

  He dusted a few snowflakes from her coat lapel. “I never left.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I left, but I didn’t go all the way to Boston. I meant to”— he took a breath—“until I realized I forgot to do something.”

  It was hard for her to breathe. She swallowed to wet the dryness that had lodged in her throat. She wanted to ask him what he’d forgotten to do, so badly, in fact, that she was twisting her fingers in pain, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

  He’d been so good at reading her that he did so again now. He reached down and took one of her hands in his own, then maneuvered it so that her palm faced up. He reached into his coat, and what he took from there made her gasp. He rested the ring of wise men on her outstretched palm.

  His voice was as soft as the snow falling to the ground. “You never got your turn to make a wish.”

  Ginny felt the tears begin to well up at the corners of her eyes. She looked at him rather than at the wise men. She wet her lips. “Is that all?”

  He laughed quietly. “No, Eugenia Leonie Overton, that’s not all.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “I was angry at you when I got on the train, and I was committed to meeting this other woman and courting her, leaving Preston for good. I was mad at you because you hadn’t told me what I wanted to hear, and it hurt because . . .” He closed his eyes.
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  “What? Because what,” she prompted.

  His eyes opened, and he searched her own. “Because I had come to feel so much for you. But you never said anything.”

  Ginny tried to speak, but he shook his head so that she wouldn’t interrupt. “Then, sometime before I reached Chicago, I realized something important. I was guilty of the same thing I was angry with you for. I’d never once confessed my feelings to you. You’re the most unpredictable person I know,” he said with a slightly crooked smile, “but I know you would never say the words before I did. You couldn’t take that chance.” He bridged the gap between them. “So then I had to worry. I thought, maybe she doesn’t feel the same way, and wouldn’t I look the fool if I bared my soul to her?”

  “Phin—”

  He wasn’t done yet and silenced her with a brief peck on the mouth. “But then I thought, I should at least give you the chance to reject or accept me in person. There, I’m done. What do you have to say?”

  She was warm all over now, snow forgotten. There was a sensation within that felt as if her heart were being pumped up in size, so that soon it wouldn’t fit in her chest. She could see the hope in Phin’s face and the fear that matched her own. She couldn’t help but smile. “You still haven’t said it.”

  “What?”

  “You keep speaking of these things you’re going to share, but you have yet to actually share them.”

  His jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed, whether with nervousness or anger, she didn’t know. With two of his fingers, he pushed her palm up to eye level. “Look inside and say that again.”

  Ginny looked at the wise-men figurine that had started their feud, then jolted in surprise, for there in one of the boxes shone a gold ring. In the other two boxes were slips of paper. She glanced at him before taking the slips and opening them. One of them read, “I love you,” and the other, “Will you marry me?”

  She could now understand Millie’s earlier joy when recounting her proposal from Ed, but she wasn’t ready to celebrate yet. Despite the fluttering fury of her heartbeat, she was steady as she said, “Is this because you need to fulfill certain conditions to win your enterprise?”

  Phin wasn’t angry she asked. He knew she had to know for herself. “Damn the conditions, Ginny. Marry me.”

  He scooped the ring out of the box and held it in front of her. “What do you say? Do you think you could stand to be married to me?”

  Ginny’s smile was wide now as she shot him an arch look. She took the ring and slid it onto her finger. “I don’t know that I can stand it,” she said coyly. She laughed at his expression, then surprised him with a kiss. “But I know that I wouldn’t be happy without you.”

  “Ginny,” he sounded exasperated. “Are you going to say it?”

  “Very well . . . are you going to the Christmas pageant?”

  Phin barked out a laugh at the reminder of the first time they met, when he’d teased her about not asking the customary question. He pulled her in close, resting his hands at the small of her back.

  She made a big show of sighing. “Oh, all right. I will marry you.” She looked into the face of her former archenemy, former and current love of her life, and felt the magic of Christmas envelop her. “I love you, Phin.”

  “I love you more, Ginny.”

  They stayed in a warm embrace, each picturing a future of wonderful moments, until the chimes sounded inside the church, signaling the commencement of the program.

  “We can make the announcement after the show.”

  “Oh no, Phin,” she said hastily. “Millie’s just gotten engaged as well. I don’t want to ruin her moment. Let’s wait until tomorrow.”

  Phin didn’t see how it would be ruining it, but he let her have her way. They couldn’t, however, keep the good news from Ginny’s father, and so they shared it with him during the intermission. Phin promised he would finish the last bit of the wish-project, and join her father and her for breakfast the next morning. For the rest of the show, Ginny kept her ring hand tucked away so that others might not see her ring, but Phin was content in the knowledge that soon everyone would know his happy news, and as soon as he could, he would be making Ginny his forever and always. And he couldn’t have done it without the help of a few wise men.

  JOHN EXCUSED HIMSELF from the breakfast table for a moment, leaving Phin and Ginny talking about the miraculous Christmas gifts that many in town had received. Already, Mrs. Clancy and Millie and her nephew had been to visit, exclaiming over the wondrous surprise.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Millie had said.

  “I can see you were also the beneficiary of a gift,” Mrs. Clancy had said slyly, upon hearing the news of Phin and Ginny’s engagement.

  “Do you see, Mr. Baldwin,” Millie began. “Do you see how lucky you were to have the wise men this year? And I can’t even imagine how everyone’s wishes came true. But I’m so happy they have.” John saw Phin and Ginny exchange looks. He supposed they were thinking that now wasn’t the time to reveal Phin’s true identity. They’d have more than enough time to explain.

  John sat at the edge of his bed, reaching below until his fingers found purchase on his box of treasures. He pulled it out and placed it on his lap, opening the lid to look down at the objects within. This was where he kept his memories—a daguerreotype of his parents, a curl of hair from each of his children upon their first birthday, a gold nugget Monty had sent him from California, a small portrait of a horse Ginny had painted him when she was younger, a few of his late wife’s trinkets. He reached for the most important one, a photographic portrait of his Marie. He took in a hitched breath as he looked into the face of the woman he’d adored. There was a time when he’d kept this photograph on his person, but he’d had to break himself of the habit in order to cope. Now, he only looked upon that lovely face when he felt like speaking to his wife.

  “Marie, my love,” he started, feeling the knot in his throat, “We did it. We made the miracle happen. You know, I’ve been praying for some time that she’d find somebody worthy of her, someone who will love her as I loved you. And you made it happen, darlin’. The people in town may have their wise men, but I have a wise woman in my corner, and you finally made it happen. Merry Christmas, love, and thank you for the gift.”

  He took a few more minutes before putting his treasures away and returning to the joy of his family.

  About Rena Gregory

  RENA GREGORY, a former middle-school teacher, has been writing stories—romantic and otherwise—since she could hold a pencil. She enjoys stories that make her laugh and think, and tries to establish a little of both in her work. She received an MFA in Creative Writing and lives in Southern Arizona. “War of the Magi” is her first published short novella.

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  Her Christmas Knight

  SANDRA JONES

  Chapter One

  Pembroke, Wales

  Christmastide 1272

  THE FOREST TOLD Lady Nia de Brionne something was amiss long before her escort gestured for their horses to stop. The birds stopped singing, the clouds rolled ominously above, and she felt the eyes of an audience somewhere in the frost-laden trees.

  “We’re being followed.” Her breath made a puff of mist in the frigid morning air. She twisted in her saddle, her gaze following the flight of a startled chough. Its loud chee-ow sent more of the birds into the woods. She clutched the hilt of the sword at her side. “Someone is east of us.”

  “More guests of the castle, likely,” the fair-haired knight, Sir Maddoc, a guest himself, grumbled. “Do not worry, my lady.” He edged his mount close enough to hers that his knee brushed her kirtle.

  Maddoc’s interest in her was clouding his judgment.

  Most of the recipients of her father’s invitations were entrenched in the castle these past few days, vying for the hands of her and her sister in marriage. Nia had only wanted to get some relief
from the cloying men by taking fresh air. She knew that the well-traveled road leaving her father’s estate was safe, but that was no reason to take risks. Outlaws were always a possibility in the forest.

  Nevertheless, she had eagerly accepted Sir Maddoc’s invitation to spend the morning hunting outside the curtain wall even though it came at the price of more unwanted attention. Despite the lamentable flirtation from the eager suitors, she hoped she hadn’t led her companions into danger.

  There were three knights and herself in her riding party, but against how many?

  Ignoring her suitor’s assurance of safety, she motioned for the men to be quiet. In the utter stillness of December gloom, she could sense every breath, every stir of the dead leaves.

  In the distance, a twig snapped, and her ear twitched toward the sound. In a flash, she unsheathed her sword, and Maddoc and his men followed suit.

  “Look out!” one of the knights cried behind her.

  As Nia turned her horse’s head, an arrow whispered over her shoulder before striking an oak tree. Hurriedly, her gaze tracked the arrow’s path to its source, and she saw a pair of brigands on foot darting between the pines. Maddoc called her entourage to form a protective circle with their mounts, but before they could rally, another arrow flew overhead in their defense, striking one of the attackers in the shin. The outlaw’s cry was drowned under the distant sound of horses. Two groups of them. One just beyond the brigands, and a group approaching opposite.

  “Heads down!” An authoritative tone issued from the trees.

  Nia obeyed with a ripple of new fear, reining her skittish horse with one hand while covering her head with her sword in the other. Suddenly, a volley of arrows pelted the woods in the direction of the first attackers. Another brigand yelped as the tip struck, just as his companions reached him on horseback. The bandits wheeled in the opposite direction and thundered away into the gloom, taking their injured with them.