A Christmas Bride in Pinecraft

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  He shook his head. Then, to her surprise, flushed. “This is probably why we’ve had more than our fair share of ups and downs. I’m not all that good at sharing my feelings.” He frowned. “And I pretty much stink at surprises.”

  She yearned to shake him. He was flustering her! “You stink at speeches, too. Eric, you need to be far clearer. What in the world are you talking about?”

  He held up the box in a death grip. “I, um, bought you a ring.” After looking at the box again, he kind of thrust it at her.

  She took it. Held it in her hands carefully, like it might explode. “A ring?”

  “Yeah.” Staring at her intently, he added, “Beverly, I bought you a ring. It’s, um, like an engagement ring.”

  She was so stunned, she kept staring at the box. “Like an engagement ring?”

  And as each second passed, he looked more nervous. “Um, I know you grew up Amish. And the Amish don’t wear jewelry. But, well, I’ve always imagined buying you a ring, so I did.”

  Her heart felt like it was beating a thousand times a minute. “Eric,” she whispered. “Are you . . . are you proposing marriage to me?”

  “Well, yeah. Aren’t you going to open the box?” He paused, looking even more unsure. “Or are you offended? Do you really not want to wear my ring?”

  Oh, she wanted to. She wanted to wear that ring and launch herself into his arms! She wanted to smile and cry and maybe even shout. But first she wanted to hear the words from him that she’d secretly been dreaming about.

  Carefully, she set the box on her lap. Then looked directly at him. “Aren’t you going to ask me a question?”

  His gaze flickered to hers before he nodded. “Yeah.” A second later, he shook his head. “I mean, yes, Beverly, I am going to ask you a question.”

  Before she could ask what he intended to do now, Eric stood up, took a deep breath, and knelt at her feet.

  Looking into his handsome face, seeing how earnest he was, Beverly had to remind herself to breathe. This was it! Suddenly, everything around her became brighter, more vivid, more pronounced. She smelled the pine in the room, noticed the glow from the red candles she’d lit over an hour before. Noticed a faint chill in the air.

  Realized that everything she’d ever imagined happening was a pale substitute for the bright reality of this moment.

  Eric reached for her hand. “Beverly, I don’t even know when I fell in love with you. Maybe it was when you knocked into me at the library. Maybe it was when we had our first argument and I realized that you were just as stubborn as I am.” Glancing down at their intertwined fingers, he smiled softly. “Who knows? Maybe it was when I realized that you have the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen. As well as the most generous heart I’ve ever known.” Meeting her gaze again, he said, “All I do know is that I want to be your husband. Forever. So, will you marry me?”

  “Forever,” she repeated.

  His eyes lit. “Yeah. I’m not going to want to ever let you go.” The faint smile playing at the corners of his lips broadened. “Come on, Bev. Please say you’ll marry me. Say you’ll be my Christmas bride.”

  A Christmas bride.

  Eric’s Christmas bride. Could she have ever imagined anything more romantic? More perfect?

  The tension between them tightened. Eric’s broad smile dimmed as he waited.

  “Yes,” she finally replied after struggling to think of something just as perfect and beautiful to say back to him.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes!” She laughed. “Here,” she said as she handed him the ring box.

  Instantly, he looked crestfallen. “Bev, you don’t even want to see it?”

  “Of course I do. But I want you to put it on my finger, silly. I mean, isn’t that how you Englishers do things?” she teased.

  “Oh. Oh, well, okay, then.” Carefully, he opened the box and pulled out a lovely white gold band inlaid with small diamonds all the way around it.

  It was so sparkly and stunning, she gasped.

  He looked almost apologetic. “I was going to get you a big diamond, but when I looked at the choices, I couldn’t do it. Those big, showy diamonds didn’t really seem like you. But then the jeweler showed me this. It’s called an eternity band. He tried to tell me that it’s usually only given for anniversaries . . . but I told him that we do things a little bit different in Philly.” He rolled his eyes.

  Finally, he held it up, turning it left and right, so it twinkled against the lights glistening on the tree. “Do you like it?”

  She held out her left hand. “Let’s see.”

  He held her hand and carefully slid it on her finger. The band felt warm from his touch. Though feeling it around her finger was a little strange, it was so very beautiful. She loved the idea of Eric wanting the world to know that she was his fiancée. Holding her hand up, she shifted it left and right, much like Eric had, enjoying the sight of such a lovely thing on her hand.

  “Oh, Eric. It’s so very perfect. I love it.”

  “It does look perfect on your hand. So, you’ll wear it? You’ll wear my ring, Bev?”

  “I’ll never take it off.”

  Smiling, he lifted her hand, gazed at the ring on her finger, then pressed her hand to his chest. And before she could ask what he intended to do next, she got her answer.

  Because he was kissing her.

  Just as if she was everything to him. Everything that mattered, anyway.

  Epilogue

  Christmas Eve, one year later

  You are going to be late for your own wedding if you aren’t careful, Aunt Beverly,” Tricia said, walking into Beverly’s room.

  “I won’t be late. I’m almost ready.” Fussing with one of the sleeves of her wedding gown, she added, “I was, um, just doing a little bit of last-minute primping.”

  “I’m sure you look—Oh!” Tricia gasped as she rounded the corner and gazed at Beverly in wonder. “Oh, Aunt Bev, look at you.”

  Beverly turned back to the mirror she’d been staring blankly into for the last ten minutes. She was wearing a long, thick white satin gown. It was devoid of lace and bows and such. Instead, it featured a simple neckline, long sleeves, and had princess seams along the bodice. On her head was a silver comb with fresh orange blossoms threaded into it. It held a lovely white veil that flowed over her shoulders and down her back.

  Walking to her side, Tricia said, “Aunt Beverly, you look beautiful. An absolutely beautiful Christmas bride.”

  “Thank you, dear. I, um, well, I feel beautiful today.”

  “You should. You’ve been waiting forever for this day.”

  “Not quite forever. I’m only thirty-four, you know.”

  “You know I didn’t mean your age,” she protested, blushing softly. “I meant that you’ve been engaged for a whole year.”

  “Most people don’t consider a year engagement to be too long,” Beverly pointed out. “It’s only around here in Pinecraft that people seem in a rush to tie the knot.”

  “Ben and I didn’t see any need to wait.”

  Beverly looked pointedly at Tricia’s stomach. “I can’t say why I ever thought you would want to wait. You do everything quickly. Even beginning your family,” she teased. Tricia had discovered she was pregnant just five months ago.

  Her sweet niece folded her arms around her middle. “As you’ve told me time and again, everything happens at the right time and for the right reason.”

  “That is true.” Beverly had planned to get married outside the Orange Blossom Inn under a big white tent like Emma and Jay Hilty had done. Unfortunately, the Lord had other plans. About four days ago, the weather had turned unseasonably cool. And with the colder temperatures had come torrents of rain. It had been raining steadily for days.

  Knowing there was nothing to do for it, Beverly and Eric had moved everything indoors. At first she’d been disappointed, but so many of her friends had stepped in to make things as wonderful as they could, it was impossible to not be excited now.


  Her longtime friends Winnie and Sadie had fashioned a garland of red roses and threaded it through every banister and over every surface. Ginny Kaufmann had gotten her family to help move furniture and set up all the tables and chairs around the inn. Penny Knoxx and Emma Hilty had organized the food in the kitchen and so many others had stopped by, offering good wishes and their assistance. Beverly never could have made everything work out alone. Their help had been invaluable.

  Beverly stepped away from the mirror and peeked at her closed bedroom door. “How is everything going downstairs?”

  “Great.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, it is pretty crowded down there,” Tricia said. “A lot of people came. A whole lot of people. It feels like half of Pinecraft is here!”

  “Yes, all we’re missing is the rest of our family.” A fierce winter storm had prevented most of her and Tricia’s family from making the trip down to Florida.

  Tricia nodded. “Everyone sounded so sad when they called. But at least they’re planning to come in a few weeks, when you are back from your honeymoon.”

  “You’re right. Their visit will be just as welcome then.” She was about to tell Tricia how glad she was that she was there when a brisk knock sounded at the door. Before Tricia could reach the handle, it opened.

  “Bev, you decent?” Jack asked, looking very dapper in a black suit with a red rose pinned to his lapel.

  “I am,” she said with a smile. “How did you manage to be the person to check on me?”

  “I’m the best man,” he said with, she thought, a look of pride. Tilting his head to one side, he grinned. “Just so you know, Eric is going crazy downstairs. He sent me up here to tell you that you’re late.” Looking over at Tricia, he added, “You were supposed to bring her downstairs, not sit up here chatting.”

  “We’re not that late,” Tricia protested.

  Obviously not about to start debating the time, Jack carefully placed the veil over Beverly’s face, taking the time to arrange it so it fell in perfect waves over her shoulders. Then he smiled. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tricia handed her a bouquet of red roses tied simply with a wide green velvet ribbon. “Now you’re all set, Aunt Bev.”

  “Danke, Tricia.”

  Jack walked to the door and opened it wide. “You ready to go put my brother out of his misery?”

  “I suppose I had better,” she teased as she took his arm.

  “She’s a bride, Jack,” Tricia pointed out as she followed them to the door. “You should be saying something more romantic!”

  “I don’t need to be romantic. That’s my brother’s job,” he replied over his shoulder. “All I’ve got to do is get her to him. On time.”

  “Which I was already doing,” Tricia muttered.

  Beverly stifled a smile as Jack walked her to the top of the landing. Then she became aware that pretty much everyone she’d ever met was standing below them. Ready to watch their descent.

  And right in front, standing directly at the foot of the stairs, was Eric. He, too, was wearing a black suit with a red rose on his lapel. He looked exceptionally handsome. But what caught her attention the most was the way he was staring up at her. He looked awestruck.

  Tricia moved around her and slowly descended first. When she reached the main floor, Eric kissed her cheek and handed her off to Ben.

  Then Eric looked back up at Beverly and grinned. And held out his hand.

  Tears pricked her eyes. It was really happening. Years after a broken engagement and running an inn by herself and months after meeting the man who’d changed her life, she was getting married right here in Pinecraft, in front of so many people whom she now considered close friends and family. She was so blessed.

  “Don’t even think about crying, Bev,” Jack warned under his breath. “Eric’s going to kill me if you fall down these stairs.”

  His gruff warning was all she needed for her tears to become a chuckle. “I won’t fall.”

  His hand tightened on her arm, and without another word, he guided her down the two flights of stairs. Jack needn’t have worried. Even though she was wearing a long satin gown, holding a bouquet of red roses, and walking with several yards of netting covering her face, she’d never felt more sure-footed.

  Down and down they went, each step confident.

  Next thing she knew, Eric had her arm in his and he was walking her through the throng of people to the preacher at the front of the inn’s gathering room.

  While all of their guests took their seats, Eric leaned close and whispered in her ear. “You’re my beautiful bride, Beverly. My beautiful Christmas bride. Right here in the Orange Blossom Inn. Right here in Pinecraft.”

  Beverly didn’t even attempt to stifle her bright smile. While Tricia might think his words a bit less than romantic, she thought they were the most glorious ones she’d ever heard. Because they signified everything good in her life. Everything that was perfect and vibrant and special.

  Because it seemed that she no longer merely dreamed in color. She lived it now. And her future had never seemed so bright.

  Acknowledgments

  Though I am sad to now say good-bye to Pinecraft after writing four full-length books and one novella, I am so grateful to have been given the opportunity to write this series. I also want to thank the many people who have worked so hard to make these books so much more than my dreams for them.

  First and foremost, I am grateful to my editor, Chelsey Emmelhainz. From our first conversation about Pinecraft, she guided the direction of the series and helped me craft four books of which to be proud.

  I’m also indebted to the whole team at HarperCollins for their support of these books. Thank you to the art department for designing the beautiful covers and to Laura Hartman Maestro for designing an adorable Pinecraft map. Thank you to Molly Birckhead for working so hard to spread the word about the series. I’m also in awe of the sales teams who work so hard with both bookstores and libraries to get these novels on shelves.

  I am so thankful and appreciative to my publicist, Joanne Minutillo. Not only did she make our series launch and girlfriend getaway such a success down in Pinecraft, she joined me there! When I say she’s amazing, she really is!

  Thank you also goes out to photographer Katie Troyer for providing the lovely photos of Pinecraft, for author Sherry Gore for providing many of the recipes, and for Laurie and Lynne here in Cincinnati who do more things behind the scenes than I could ever list.

  No acknowledgments like this would be complete without mentioning my husband, Tom. Thank you, Tom, for all the dinners you’ve cooked, the miles you’ve driven me to signings, and the hours you’ve listened to me talk about people who only exist in my imagination. You are one in a million, Tom. Really.

  Thank you to my readers whose enthusiasm makes me want to write every day.

  And finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how grateful I am for God’s blessings and His presence when I write these novels. I know I don’t write these books alone. He gives me the words.

  P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . . *

  About the author

  * * *

  Meet Shelley Shepard Gray

  About the book

  * * *

  Letter from the Author

  Questions for Discussion

  Golatschen Christmas Cookies

  Read on

  * * *

  Shelley’s Top Five Must-See Spots in Pinecraft

  Scenes from Pinecraft

  A Sneak Peek from the First Book in Shelley’s New Series, A Charmed Amish Life, A Son’s Vow

  About the author

  Meet Shelley Shepard Gray

  The New Studio

  PEOPLE OFTEN ASK how I started writing. Some believe I’ve been a writer all my life; others ask if I’ve always felt I had a story I needed to tell. I’m afraid my reasons couldn’t be more different. See, I started writing one day because I didn�
�t have anything to read.

  I’ve always loved to read. I was the girl in the back of the classroom with her nose in a book, the mom who kept a couple of novels in her car to read during soccer practice, the person who made weekly visits to the bookstore and the library.

  Back when I taught elementary school, I used to read during my lunch breaks. One day, when I realized I’d forgotten to bring something to read, I turned on my computer and took a leap of faith. Feeling a little like I was doing something wrong, I typed those first words: Chapter One.

  I didn’t start writing with the intention of publishing a book. Actually, I just wrote for myself.

  For the most part, I still write for myself, which is why, I think, I’m able to write so much. I write books that I’d like to read. Books that I would have liked to have in my old teacher tote bag. I’m always relieved and surprised and so happy when other people want to read my books, too!

  Another question I’m often asked is why I choose to write inspirational fiction. Maybe at first glance, it does seem surprising. I’m not the type of person who usually talks about my faith in the line at the grocery store or when I’m out to lunch with friends. For me, my faith has always felt like more of a private thing. I feel that I’m still on my faith journey—still learning and studying God’s word.

  And that, I think, is why writing inspirational fiction is such a good fit for me. I enjoy writing about characters who happen to be in the middle of their faith journeys, too. They’re not perfect, and they don’t always make the right decisions. Sometimes they make mistakes, and sometimes they do something they’re proud of. They’re characters who are a lot like me.

  Only God knows what else He has in store for me. He’s given me the will and the ability to write stories to glorify Him. He’s put many people in my life who are supportive and caring. I feel blessed and thankful . . . and excited to see what will happen next!