Jingle Bell Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “Uh, because I didn’t know.” Johanna didn’t look sorry about it. “Did you know, Meg?”

  “No, as I’d never met the man before.”

  “I knew, but I figured you already knew. I mean, you’ve spent so much time talking with the man.” Sara Beth’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. “But I won’t tease you about it, if you don’t want me to.”

  “Thank you. I would appreciate that.” Because if they stopped talking about him, then maybe she could get Michael out of her mind—the man and his reason for becoming an oncologist, the man and his heart-arresting half smile— Oops. She was doing it again.

  “Are you ready to order?” the waitress interrupted.

  Perfect timing. A change of mental focus was exactly what she needed. No more thoughts of Michael Kramer.

  “Cheeseburger, curly fries and a chocolate shake,” she said without looking at the menu. So much for her healthy diet. Recent events called for heavy artillery, meaning French fries and chocolate.

  “The same.” Sara Beth handed over her menu.

  As Meg and Johanna ordered, Chelsea wondered how Michael was doing on the drive home. The roads looked terrible. She didn’t know why she cared so much, but that was the problem. A big one. Huge. Massive. Detrimental.

  “So, any ideas on what to get Dad for Christmas?” Johanna gathered her steaming teacup in both hands.

  “Dad? He’s impossible to shop for.” Meg flicked a long lock of dark hair over her slender shoulder.

  “He has everything and wants nothing.” Sara Beth gave a thoughtful look. “There has to be something we can get him. Something he doesn’t even know he wants.”

  “No idea what that would be.” Johanna scrunched up her forehead in thought. “Nope, no idea.”

  “Then we’ll just have to mull.” Chelsea wished she had an idea for the perfect gift, but right now all her gray matter could think of was the one man she shouldn’t. “An answer will come to us.”

  “It should be something really great. He deserves that.” Sara Beth’s eyes shone with emotion.

  “He does,” they all agreed together in unison and fell silent, leaving so much unsaid. Loss, love, the wish for the kind of Christmas Mom would have wanted.

  The waitress returned with their cheeseburgers. The clatter of dishes, the smell of hot fries and the waitress’s friendliness broke the silence between them. After making sure they didn’t need anything else, she hurried away to help other customers.

  “My turn to say grace,” Johanna spoke up, catching hold of Chelsea’s hand. “Lord, thank you for bringing us together safely again, in good health and with hope in our hearts. Please watch over our dad, because we worry about him being lonely, and take care of our mom, wherever she is in heaven with You. Let her know how much we love her. Amen.”

  “Amen.” The word slipped past Chelsea’s dry throat. She really did miss Mom.

  “So, Chels, are you coming with me to choir practice?” Johanna grabbed the ketchup bottle propped up against the napkin dispenser and squirted a puddle onto her plate.

  “I didn’t know there was choir practice.” She tore off the paper wrapper on her straw.

  “Weren’t you paying attention in church?” Meg took the ketchup bottle from Johanna. “Practice for the candlelight service starts today.”

  “You always used to sing in it when you were home.” Johanna dove into her fries.

  “That was when I was in high school.” It was kind of weird to be home again, living in her old bedroom while so much had changed. Nothing stayed the same. “I don’t know how my work hours are going to go, so I can’t commit. Probably I’ll be working late a lot of weeknights.”

  “You didn’t work late today,” Sara Beth pointed out. “Besides, we’re all going and since you need a ride, you’ll have to come with us.”

  “Not that I’m objecting, but you could have told me that before.” Honestly. She plunged her straw into her milkshake and took a sip. Sweet, cool, chocolatey. Can’t go wrong with that. “I guess I could join and see how it goes.”

  “Ah, she fell into our trap.” Johanna waggled her brows and bit into another fry. “Success?”

  “Success,” Meg and Sara Beth agreed in unison.

  Her sisters. What would she do without them? “Pass me the ketchup, and let’s be clear. I have responsibilities. My obligations at the clinic come first.”

  “Right.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Understandable.”

  All three sisters smirked at her, as if they had other plans.

  Yes, it was definitely good to be home again. Lord, thank You for my sisters, she prayed.

  * * *

  “Michael!” His mother swept open the front door of her home, squinting out into the dark swirling storm. “I was just starting to worry about you. You could have called.”

  “I needed both hands on the wheel. Bad roads.” He stomped snow off his boots and marched into the warmth of the house. Cold to his bone marrow, he unzipped his winter coat but kept it on and peeled off his gloves, heading straight for the hearth. The crackling heat drew him like a tractor beam, offering comfort, kind of the same way Chelsea McKaslin’s presence did, and that more than troubled him. He’d never noticed anyone the way he noticed her. And considering how easily he’d opened up to her, well, that bothered him. Big-time.

  “Daddy!” Macie bounced up from the coffee table, where she’d been kneeling, clutching a bright red ball ornament. “Look what we’re doing. Me and Gramps picked out the tree and me and Grammy are decorating it.”

  “Looks like you’re doing a good job, too.” He knelt down, awkward, folding the little girl into his arms. He’d never been the nurturing parent. He’d always left that to Diana, who’d been so good at it. How he hated that he was inadequate for the job left to him. He moved away, ruffling her soft dark hair. “Glad you’re helping Grammy with her tree. Saves me from being recruited.”

  “Don’t think that will stop me,” his mom kidded with a wink.

  “Good thing you only live a block away.” Jay, his father, lumbered through the house, snow sticking to his wool shirt and his thinning hair, a load of wood in one arm. He must have come in through the back. “The weathermen say we’re in for a hard blow.”

  “That’s not what I wanted to hear.” Last year’s relatively mild winter was only a dream at this point. Two storms in three days. Who knew what the rest of the month held? “I’ll have a tough trip into Jackson tomorrow. Smells like you’ve got dinner in the oven, Mom. I’ll pack up Macie’s things and we’ll get out of your way.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” June Kramer was never one to let her granddaughter go easily. “Michael, take off your coat and stay awhile. I made your favorite chicken dish. Oops, that’s the oven timer. You fill in for me and help Macie decorate the tree.”

  “Me? I don’t have an artistic eye. Not even an artistic cornea.”

  “Excuses won’t help you, son.” His father nodded toward the television in the corner, set on mute, where a new announcement scrolled across the bottom of the screen. “I’ve learned a lesson being married all these years. Never go against the woman of the house.”

  “Hey!” June called from the kitchen. “I heard that, although it is the truth.”

  “See how rough my life is?” Dad quipped.

  “There are worse things.” Michael took a few pieces of wood from his dad and knelt down, fitting them into the grate. “Ebola, for instance.”

  “Or the black plague,” his dad quipped back, filling the wood box beside the hearth. “You’re right. That does put it in perspective.”

  “Glad to help.” He and Diana had never had the kind of harmonious connection his parents did. The fire’s heat fanned his face, thawing him out, but nothing could stop his mind from boomer
anging back to Chelsea. They did have a natural accord. Troubling. Very troubling.

  “Dad, look.” His daughter gestured toward a delicate glass ball hanging from a branch. “Hmm, maybe it’d look a lot better over here.”

  Macie hung her ornament thoughtfully on a low branch of the fresh-smelling fir towering between the couch and the front window. She stepped back, dark curls framing her round face, and considered her work. With a serious nod, she seemed satisfied. “Much better.”

  “You’re doing a good job, kiddo.” He wrestled another red glass ball out of its plastic holder and handed it to her.

  “I know.” She pursed her lips together, debating where it should go. “Hey, Dad, do you know what?”

  “What?”

  “Did you know you could get a sleigh ride? They have ’em at the riding stable.” She took the ornament from him and hung it carefully. “It’s really cool. Lots of other girls get to go on a ride with their dads. I thought we could go, just you and me.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” Sleigh riding. Not sure how he felt about that. He dug another ornament out of the box, Macie took it and wandered around to the far side of the tree. Where did his mind go? Not staying focused on his family. Not on worrying how he’d get all the way into Jackson tomorrow, nearly an hour’s drive in good weather. Not even on his child. Chelsea McKaslin. She filled his thoughts like presents in a stocking. He couldn’t forget the sight of her bounding down from his Lexus with the snow dancing around her, her movements graceful, always moving as if she heard an inner song.

  The faint scent of strawberries and vanilla clung to his coat as he shrugged it off. His stomach felt fisted up, troubled by something he did not want to feel. Chelsea McKaslin was a colleague and a fellow doctor, that was all. Nothing more. And that was the way he was going to start thinking of her.

  Problem solved.

  * * *

  “Too bad choir practice was cancelled,” Chelsea quipped from the backseat of Meg’s SUV. “That’s it. It’s official. I’m not meant to sing in the candlelight service. It’s a sign from above.”

  “Nope, sorry, you’re wrong.” Johanna shifted in the front passenger seat. “It’s not a sign. It’s more like a delay.”

  “I’d already texted the choir director, so you’re committed.” Meg took her eyes briefly off the snowy road to grin at Chelsea in the rearview mirror. “She was totally thrilled, as they’re short on altos.”

  “Ever since Mom passed,” Johanna explained. “It feels right, doesn’t it? It’s like Chelsea is taking her place.”

  “It’s fitting.” Meg nodded, keeping her eyes on the road this time, since a wind gust battered the side of the vehicle. “Mom would have liked it.”

  “Remember how she sang right up until the last few months?” Johanna’s voice turned soft, full of love. “Her last Christmas service, remember how we had to wrap her up so well because of the cold?”

  “It was ten degrees.” Chelsea remembered flying in on Christmas Eve for a fast trip home and how frail Mom had looked. They all knew she was losing her battle, even then. “I stepped out of the airport into that cold air. It cut like a razor straight through my clothes. There you were waiting for me at the curb. I can still see Mom smiling and waving. Her dark curls, caring eyes, a smile as bright as dreams. I should have taken a leave from school.”

  “No, she wanted you to finish your residency.” Meg chanced another glance in the rearview, her dark eyes serious. “She said you were right where you were meant to be.”

  “I know, she told me.” Over and over, but that hadn’t stopped the guilt or the sense of duty that warred with Mom’s wishes. Chelsea had always been ambitious, but what was ambition in light of a family member’s illness? Nothing, that’s what. “No one knows how many times I almost walked away from school. From everything I’d ever worked for.”

  “I know.” Johanna twisted in her seat, her lovely face wrinkled with regret. “I had to leave her, too. I was in my last year of vet school, remember?”

  “Don’t feel guilty, Chels.” Meg slowed for a barely visible curve in the road. “You have no idea how much hope you gave Mom. She told me so. She used to say all the time, that life goes on. It encouraged her to know that we were all going to be okay.”

  “Seattle was too far away.” She watched the white flakes beat at the windshield, feeling the vastness of the dark. Headlights reflected back on the falling snow, keeping the road ahead a mystery and unseen—just like life. You could only do the best you could and trust the Lord to lead the way. But that didn’t stop the sense she’d somehow failed Mom. “Phone calls and emails weren’t enough.”

  “Are you kidding? She called you every day.” Meg’s forehead crinkled, her eyes soft with understanding. “Trust me, it was enough. Besides, she’d like you taking her place in the choir. It’s like a full circle thing, you know?”

  “I know.” Chelsea sat back in her seat, spying a faint flash of light through the storm. The flicker grew brighter as Meg maneuvered through the deep snow. The shining icicle lights came into view, marching along the roofline of home.

  “Mom used to love those lights,” Meg said to no one in particular as she hit the garage remote, unnecessary since everyone already knew it. It was impossible to see the lights and not think of Mom.

  The headlights from Sara Beth’s truck bobbed into view behind them—she’d swung by the vet clinic to pick up Dad who’d stayed late. It was good Dad was home, too. Chelsea grabbed her bag, hopped off the seat and the garage echoed around her. It felt good to know they were all safe and out of the storm. She was thankful for that.

  Chapter Six

  The week whizzed by at an alarming rate. The snow stopped falling, the sunshine came out, but the temperatures weren’t high enough to melt the accumulation. Chelsea took a second to glance out the window after another crazy-busy morning at the clinic. The Wyoming landscape lay still and frozen. Sunshine glanced off white, sparkling snow like Christmas morning.

  “I looked over the charts you left on my desk.” Dr. Steve Swift’s friendly tenor broke into her thoughts. His crutches clunked on the tile as he hobbled closer. “Good job. Couldn’t have done better myself.”

  “There wasn’t much to it. Lots of colds and flu, and a few cases of strep. Everything’s routine.” With her tablet computer tucked in one arm, Chelsea pushed away from the break room window, greeting her mentor with a smile. “How is your first day back at work?”

  “Going about as well as my wife predicted it would.” A pleasantly stocky man of average height, Steve crutched farther into the room. His warm personality made everyone feel at ease with him, and his round face wore a perpetual smile. “My leg is throbbing. Time to head home and put it up, lay back and take it easy.”

  “You? Take it easy? I don’t believe it.” Chelsea fetched a plastic container from the fridge and snapped it open. Lunchtime. The scent of Sara Beth’s chicken salad made her mouth water. It was fabulous to have a sister who really knew how to cook. “Have you ever taken it easy a day in your life?”

  “Hey, I’m turning over a new leaf. Becoming a more laid-back man.” Steve’s green eyes sparkled with good humor. “It’s the new me.”

  “Really?” She plopped her lunch on the table next to the window. “You couldn’t stay away five whole days.”

  “It was an administrative thing. I had to come in and sign checks.”

  “Right, because no one could have dropped them by your house.” So not fooled, Chelsea poked a straw into her juice box.

  “I didn’t want either Audra or Carol to go to all that trouble. Besides, who would cover the front desk and the phones?” Steve lumbered over to the other side of the table and stared out the window. “I’m just trying to be thoughtful.”

  “A
dmit it. You couldn’t stay away.” She sank into a chair.

  “Just between you and me? Yeah, I miss this place. It’s been a madhouse this morning. Just the way I like it.”

  “Me, too.” At least she was getting lunch today. That was an improvement over other days earlier in the week. “I’ve totally enjoyed covering your patients.”

  “With you and Susan doing such a good job, not a single patient is gonna miss me.” Steve shrugged, shook his head and turned from the window. “There’s the wife. She told me I’d better not keep her waiting, so I’ve got to go. She has a schedule to keep. She’s knee-deep in projects at the church.”

  “It’s a busy time of year there. How is she managing to do everything and take care of you?”

  “It’s a mystery.” Steve crutched toward the door. “Keep emailing me daily reports, call if you have a patient question and above all, keep up the good work.”

  “Thanks, Steve. You take care of that fracture.”

  “Count on it.” With another rattle of his crutches, he trudged through the door and out of sight.

  Did it feel good to get off her feet? Absolutely. She relaxed into the cushioned chair back, closed her eyes and bowed her head for a quick grace. That done, she turned on her tablet computer and pulled up her day’s to-do list. Shockingly long.

  “Sorry to bother you, but we’ve had three more walk-ins.” Audra from the front desk knocked on the open door. “Can you help cover them? Please?” She pleaded with clasped hands.

  “How can I say no to that? Give me ten minutes.” Chelsea excelled in speed-eating. Plus, that would also give her enough time to add a few dire items to her to-do list.

  “Terrific.” Audra smiled in relief. “Oops, looks like you have company.”