Yuletide Redemption

by Jill Kemerer

  “Yes, I do. If I don’t, I might never come back. I need this. Need my job. Need something to occupy my time.”

  And he needed Celeste. And Parker.

  He needed them more than he needed the dealership.

  They were the best part of him. And he’d thrown them out.

  “Bry?”

  Bryan raised his eyebrows.

  “I probably won’t ever walk without a cane or a limp. I might always need this wheelchair to some extent.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Heat climbed his neck. He loosened his collar. “Can a guy like me, with my limitations, be a good husband? A good father?”

  Bryan’s face contorted in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

  He didn’t want to explain. He shouldn’t have brought it up.

  “You don’t need to walk to love someone.” Now it was Bryan’s turn to look embarrassed. “To cherish them.”

  “And when a baby cries in the night? I might not be able to get it out of the crib.”

  “Your wife would.”

  “What if she’s sick?”

  Bryan rubbed his chin and stared into space. “You can always call one of us. Or you could hire a nanny at night. There might be special cribs you could buy.”

  True. But maybe Bryan was missing the point.

  “Okay, but when all the dads are lifting a toddler on their shoulders and my kid wants to sit on mine, what am I going to do? I’ll let him down.”

  “Buy him a balloon or something. He’ll get over it.”

  True again. But was Bryan still missing the point?

  Bryan leaned back, crossing his arms. “I think you’re scared. I know scared. The worst scare of my life—the thought of losing you—prompted me to get over my biggest fear. You helped me give my heart to Jade. The night of your accident, I left your hospital room and felt destroyed. And she came to me like a gift from God.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “If you’re afraid of taking a chance on Celeste—and don’t deny it, we all know you like her—don’t be. I had a lot of excuses why it wouldn’t work between Jade and me, too. But that was fear feeding me a bunch of lies.” Bryan leaned forward. “Tommy told me something when I was being a thickheaded dolt about Jade. He asked, ‘Do you believe you’re divinely guided?’ You’ll have to ask yourself the same thing.”

  “I shut God out for a long time.”

  “He was still there. He’s always there.” Bryan flourished his hand. “When you trust God, He will always lead you to the right turn in the road.”

  The right turn in the road.

  “You’re right.” Sam could see it all—God’s hand in his life. The accident had happened, but God had allowed him to live. God had saved him, saved his leg, protected him and sent Celeste when he needed her most. “So I should fight for Celeste and Parker?”

  “I wouldn’t let anything keep me from Jade.” Bryan grinned. “Does Celeste feel the same?”

  Sam blew out a breath and shrugged. “I was a jerk yesterday. I honestly don’t know. Wouldn’t blame her if she hated me.”

  “Get ready to grovel.” Bryan laughed.

  “Real funny.” Even if Sam groveled, could he convince Celeste they were right for each other?

  Maybe.

  If he did it right...

  Chapter Fifteen

  Celeste had to tell Sam she loved him. Today.

  Or tomorrow.

  No, today.

  Down by the lake on Saturday morning, she wrapped her arms around herself as the sun rose. Mom and Dad had agreed to watch Parker the rest of the weekend, so she’d driven back to the cabin late last night to strategize. To plan. To pretend she wasn’t taking the biggest risk of her life.

  She needed to gather her courage and march up to Sam’s door.

  She wasn’t ready yet.

  The sun’s glow lit the sky above the tree line behind the lake. Darkness faded little by little. One year ago, she’d put in eight hours at the most boring job in the world, gone back to her apartment, thrown on her cutest outfit and driven straight to Brandy’s.

  Today could end up as traumatic as a year ago, or it could be the best day ever.

  Either way, she had a feeling she’d be okay.

  God was with her. Guiding her. Supporting her.

  She was ready for this.

  She reviewed her plan. Since she’d slept all of forty-seven minutes last night, she’d had plenty of time to get ready. She wore her favorite jeans, warm boots and a red sweater. She’d straightened her already straight hair.

  Her makeup was light. It didn’t cover her scars, and she didn’t want it to. Either she was good enough for Sam with her scars or she wasn’t. And if she wasn’t, well, he wasn’t right for her, either.

  Stop procrastinating. Go over there, already.

  Celeste headed back up the lawn. When she reached the driveway between her cabin and Sam’s cottage, she stopped short. On her porch steps, Sam leaned against his crutches. Their gazes locked. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

  What was he doing there? Out of his wheelchair? On her steps?

  “Hey,” he said, extending his neck in greeting.

  “Hey.” Brilliant response.

  “We need to talk.” The words brought mixed feelings—hope, yes, but fear and disappointment over their last encounter, too.

  “Now?” She hated that her head and heart were clashing right now. Her plan to tell him she loved him fled out the back door, and all that was left was uncertainty. “What if I don’t want to?”

  He hung his head. “Look, I’m sorry. And I don’t blame you, but we need to talk.”

  She nodded, wishing his apology could wipe away all their problems, but it couldn’t. They did need to talk. She could invite him in, but she wanted all her memories in the cabin to be good. If he was going to break her heart, she preferred he do it somewhere else. “Not here.”

  “Let’s go to town, then.”

  “I’ll get my keys.” Celeste went inside and grabbed her purse, refusing to get her hopes up. He could have any number of things to say. Maybe he wanted her to move out. Since he didn’t need her to drive him around, he didn’t want her living there. Could that be it?

  He would never be that cruel.

  They drove in silence until Sam told her to park in a lot behind the most picture-perfect church she’d ever seen. Huge wreaths with big red bows hung from the double doors, and holly bushes were planted around the front porch.

  “Here we are.” He waited for her to bring his wheelchair around and then wheeled himself to a bench in front of the church. “Looks like it’s getting ready to snow again.”

  As if on cue, snowflakes started falling. He sat on the bench and held his hand out. “Come here.”

  She obeyed, shivering at the cold seeping under her jeans. This wasn’t how she’d planned it. She was supposed to go to him, tell him what was in her heart—when she was ready.

  She was not ready.

  “I’m sorry, Celeste.”

  The block party raging in her veins lowered a notch. Another apology wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted a declaration.

  “No, I mean it. I was stupid. I hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” Why did her voice sound as if it was six miles away? Because his feelings didn’t match hers.

  He wiped a finger across his eyebrow. Seemed nervous.

  Well, join the club, buddy.

  “Celeste, I was in a bad place when we met.” He faced her. “Bitter. Angry. Sorry for myself. You changed all that.”

  She did?

  “I saw how you rebounded from your accident. Raising Parker. Starting over in a new town. I admired that
. And you gave me the courage to start living again. And I mean, really living. Like leaving the cottage and thinking about work. I even went back to church. This is my church, by the way.”

  Her throat felt fuzzy. Thoughts jammed in her mind, but she couldn’t make sense of them. “It’s really pretty.”

  He nodded. “It is. But that’s not important. The more progress I made with my leg, the more hope I felt. Until Thursday. Everything kind of fell apart on Thursday. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. My breakdown had been brewing for a long time.”

  She winced. Usually when a woman heard the words it’s not your fault, it’s mine, it meant a guy was blowing her off. Was Sam here to blow her off? Or wait—hadn’t he already done that?

  “I blamed God for not healing me. I let my pride get in the way of going back to work. I pushed away my family and friends. And then you came along.”

  She met his eyes then—those stunning blue eyes—and a glimmer of hope lit in her chest. He looked at her with such intensity, such need.

  “I tried to push you out of my life because I was scared. I thought you needed a man who could protect you, take care of you and help you. I’m not going to pretend I’m that man. I can’t carry a baby around on these legs. This week, I couldn’t even keep Parker safe for more than an hour. Watching him fall and hit his head because I couldn’t pick him up just about broke me, Celeste. I love him.”

  “I know you do.” She did know. What she didn’t know was how he felt about her. “You lost a lot in your accident. You had every right to be angry, Sam.”

  “I shouldn’t have blamed God.”

  “Well, I blamed myself for Brandy dying. I told myself I’d been driving too fast, enjoying our night out too much. Yesterday I even blamed the telephone pole. I wanted it to make sense, but I’ll never know why it happened. I had to accept it. Finally, I do. Do you still blame God?”

  He shook his head. “No. Like you, I may never understand why I went through this, but God knows why. He loves me and that has to be good enough.”

  “I’m glad you got right with Him.”

  “Me, too.”

  The words she’d been getting up the nerve to say sat on the tip of her tongue.

  “Celeste, I need to get right with you, too.” He took her hands in his. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m sorry your appointment didn’t go the way you hoped, but I’ve never noticed your scars. I see your big brown eyes and your long, shiny hair. You have a slightly crooked tooth that drives me wild. I see your heart. The way you love Parker with a love so big it can’t be contained. I see more than you know, and I love it. I love everything I see. Everything about you. I love you.”

  He loved her?

  But what about his words at the hospital? She had to know for sure if he really meant what he was saying. “At the hospital you said my scars mattered.”

  His eyes darkened. “Not the way you think. I was afraid of letting you down. I know you’d been let down by the accident and then by not hearing what you wanted from the doctor. Your scars only mattered because I convinced myself I would be one more letdown in your life.”

  “You could never let me down.”

  “I could, Celeste. And I probably will.”

  * * *

  Sam watched Celeste’s expression as his words sank in. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and her hair slipped over her face. He wanted to run his fingers through the silky strands. But he wasn’t selling himself as anything more than what he was. If they were going to have a future together, he had to lay out exactly what life with him would be like.

  What if he did and she rejected him?

  At least he wouldn’t have any regrets.

  He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. “Ever since you walked through my door in October, I’ve been trying to convince myself that this—” he gestured to his right leg “—isn’t forever. That I could make it better. Be who I wanted to be. And I wanted to be a man who could carry a bride over the threshold, who could hold a baby during late-night feedings, who wouldn’t limp but would be on both feet protecting his loved ones.”

  Her face, pink from the cold air, oozed sympathy. She squeezed his hand.

  “You’ve had a hard life,” he said. “I don’t want to make it harder. I’m being selfish.”

  “You make it easier,” she blurted. “I don’t need a guy to carry me over the threshold or carry a baby or any of that. I need someone who loves me, scars and all. Someone who will be my partner and love Parker like he’s his own son.”

  “What if you change your mind five years from now?” he asked.

  “I’ve learned we have no guarantees. I might not be here five years from now. You might not be. But I don’t want to go through those years without my best friend.”

  He scratched his chin. “But Brandy’s gone.”

  She laughed. “I’m talking about you. You’re my best friend. You’re my safe place. I tell you everything, and I love you, Sam. I love you, too.”

  His heartbeat pounded, and his chest felt ready to burst. Could it be this easy? When everything else for the past eighteen months had been so hard?

  Who cared? He was taking it. Grabbing it.

  Sam wrapped his arms around her and drew her to him. Her lips were close, and he kissed her. Drank in their softness. Tasted a hint of coffee and vanilla. Was filled with the sensation of rightness, of his future, of forever.

  Before he got carried away, he owed it to both of them to say everything on his mind. He ended the kiss and brushed her cheek with his lips.

  “I may always need the wheelchair, Celeste. I’ll probably always have a limp. I’ve lived with chronic pain every day since my accident. It might never go away. I can’t carry groceries indoors or play volleyball with you at a picnic. I can’t even drive anywhere, although I hope that will change soon. Are you sure you can accept that?”

  She cupped his face with her hands. A smile full of joy lit her face. “I’ll bring the groceries in, and you can help put them away. I hate volleyball. I like driving. And you’re acting like you bring nothing to a relationship. You support me. You brought me out of my shell. You allowed me to run again. You make Parker laugh. You’re so good with him.”

  “I’m worried about watching him. Worried he’ll get hurt, and it will be my fault.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re great with him. He’s going to get hurt sometimes. That’s how life is.”

  He nodded.

  “I think he’s been trying to call you Daddy. If you want me to stop him, I will...” Worry dimmed her eyes.

  “I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want any of this to stop. I feel like I’m in a dream—a good dream, finally. I don’t want to wake up.”

  “It had better not be a dream. If it is, it’s the best one I’ve ever had.”

  He leaned in, kissing her again. She twined her arm around him, sinking her fingers in the hair at his nape. Her gentle touch undid him, made him forget why he had ever doubted they should be together. He kissed her slowly, savoring this woman who’d saved him from the pit he’d sunk into.

  Thank You, God. Thank You for sending her here, for giving us both another chance at life. For leading us to each other.

  Celeste broke free with a shy smile. They stared at each other for a long moment.

  “Are you still up for the parade?” He pushed her soft hair away from her face.

  “Are you?” Her nose scrunched in concern.

  “I am. The doc told me I have to protect my leg at all costs, though, so I’m stuck in the wheelchair today.”

  A smile bigger than Lake Endwell spread across her face. “Fine with me. Besides, you promised.”

  “I did. And it’s officially a date.” He grinned. “Let’s get breakfast, then head up to Main Stre
et. I know just the spot on the parade route.”

  * * *

  Celeste smoothed her skirt over her knees and peeked back at the church entrance for the twelfth time in two minutes. Why was she so nervous? Parker would be a great baby Jesus.

  “Are you as nervous as I am?” Sam squeezed her arm.

  “More.” They sat in the second row of Brandy’s church Christmas Eve night. The children’s service would be starting soon. Celeste, Sam and Parker had stopped by her parents’ house earlier, and the introductions had gone better than she could have hoped for. When they got to the church, Parker happily went to Shelby.

  The days since the parade had flown by in a blur of shopping, wrapping gifts and watching Christmas movies—all with Sam, of course. The parade had been wonderful. She and Sam had sipped coffee and joined his siblings and their families on the sidewalk of Main Street. The marching band played “Deck the Halls” as dancers spun and leaped down the street. Miss Lake Endwell had waved from the back of a silver convertible, and Shriners drove miniature cars. The best part? Sam had held her hand the entire parade.

  As he’d held it every day since.

  “Here comes Grandma Pearl.” She sucked in a breath and exchanged a charged look with Sam. “I hope Parker does okay.”

  They rose to let Grandma Pearl sit with them, and after she settled in, she turned to Celeste. “It was so nice of you to join me for the service. I know you have your own church to go to. Where’s Parker?”

  Celeste had talked to Sue Roper earlier, and they’d agreed not to say anything. To let Grandma Pearl realize that Parker was baby Jesus on her own. After the service they would reveal why they wanted to surprise her.

  “You’ll see.”

  A hymn began to play and the congregation stood. Dressed up in costumes, the excited children strode to the front of the church, stopping where they’d been directed. Shelby, dressed as Mary, held Parker—who was wrapped in a beige cloth—as she walked to the manger set. Matt, dressed as Joseph, stood beside her, a staff in his hand.

  Grandma Pearl pressed her hand against her chest. “Oh!”

  “Are you okay?” Celeste asked.