Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for ChristmasHer Montana ChristmasAn Amish Christmas JourneyYuletide Baby

by Brenda Minton

  This weekend had been a good start. The twins had stayed with her Friday night and all day Saturday. Yesterday, Jake had stopped by in the late afternoon to pick up the twins but he’d stayed for dinner. After they had finished eating the twins played in the living room. Only one thing had dampened the mood. Once as they all sat in the living room, Violet had looked around and said, “Mama?”

  Breezy knew that someday it would hurt less. At that moment, knowing there was no mama and knowing Breezy couldn’t fill Elizabeth’s shoes, it had hurt.

  So for the twins, and maybe for herself, she was going to church. It wasn’t that she had something against church, or even against God. She believed. She even prayed. But church, it was all about the past when it came to church.

  Someone rapped on her window, and she jumped then frowned at the man smiling at her. He opened the door, cowboy cool in a plaid button-up shirt, jeans and boots. He had shaved off the stubble that had covered his cheeks the previous day. As she stepped out of the car she realized he smelled good, like country air and expensive cologne. A combination she could cuddle up to, if it were any other man. Chivalrous and Old West he might be, but safe? He was anything but safe.

  “Nervous?” he asked as she just stood there next to her car.

  “A little.” She glanced around. “Where are the girls?”

  “I’ve already checked them into the nursery.”

  “Oh.” She studied the building. It felt like looking at her future, all wrapped up in a neat package with a Christmas bow on top. This town, the church, the twins and even Jake.

  She wanted to accept it, to believe it. This was her life now. But how many times had she thought she might be able to stay, to put down roots, only to have it ripped out from under her?

  Even her life in Oklahoma with her sister.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m good.”

  One brow arched and he studied her face, and then surprised her by reaching for her hand. “Good but a little shaky?”

  “You grew up here, didn’t you? You’ve always lived in this town, with these people who know you and this church that has been there for you?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Of course. Because it was Martin’s Crossing. Duke had told her that their great great grandfather had settled this area, building up a farm and starting the general store. And that grandfather’s brother had been the law in these parts. Family history.

  Breezy’s family history was of a drug addict who overdosed and a man whose life story she didn’t really know.

  “Breezy?”

  His voice was soft, husky, and he was standing too close. She pulled herself together and gave him an easy look, the kind she knew how to give. The smile that said she was okay. Everything was good.

  “I’m ready,” she said. “I have gone to church. I went while I lived in Dawson. It’s just…I’ve had a different experience than you have.”

  And she was so tired of starting over.

  “What was your experience?” he asked as if he really wanted to know. But how did she tell him?

  Maria had used churches. She had used Breezy. But how did she explain that to a man who had lived this perfect, American dream kind of life?

  He would never understand the embarrassment of being dragged from church to church. He wouldn’t get how it felt to sit in a classroom where every other kid had families, homes and nice clothes.

  She stopped walking, wondering what to tell him. There was so much about her life that people didn’t understand, so she didn’t share. Not even with Mia. But she and Jake were raising children together. That changed everything. “My experience was that church was the place where I never really belonged. We were always passing through.”

  He started to comment but she put a hand up to stop the words that would be some variation of “sorry, shouldn’t have been, this will be different.” They were facing each other on the sidewalk and somehow her hand settled on his arm.

  “This will be different,” he assured her. His gaze held hers and he looked like he meant it. And she believed him.

  Of course it would be different. She wasn’t that dirty little girl anymore. She no longer stood on street corners with her guitar, hoping someone would throw a few dollars in the case. Maria wasn’t here, telling her to play along at church, to listen to the stories about God and fishes and loaves, just long enough to get money for a room or food.

  The difference between Breezy and Maria was that Maria hadn’t believed. She’d only used the people who had been kind enough to put their faith into action. Breezy had wanted to know more. She had wanted to understand the stories, the faith, the hope that the teachers spoke of.

  She had always wanted a home, a place to plant roses, maybe a garden. A place to stay. And now she had it, even though it didn’t feel like her life. It felt like she was borrowing Lawton’s. The idea of staying scared the daylights out of her. And the longer she stayed, the more she grew to love the twins, the more she feared it might all be taken away.

  “What should I say?” he asked as they walked toward the building.

  “Nothing, really. Just understand that you grew up here, where this was a safe place. I grew up being used by a lady who took me to church to get money.”

  He nodded, and she was glad that he didn’t say anything else. He touched her back and then dropped his hand to his side. The brief gesture cause a shiver to race up her spine.

  “I have a roast in the Crock-Pot for lunch,” he said as they walked up the steps of the church.

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “Yes, it’s an invitation. It used to be a big family event. There are fewer of us these days but we still have lunch together every Sunday. Today Marty has plans with friends, so it will just be you, me, Duke, Brody and the twins.”

  “Can I bring something?”

  “No, Marty’s taken care of everything. And Duke is bringing pie.”

  Duke’s pie. She’d had a slice the other day when she’d had coffee with Jake and it was the best pie she’d ever had. Even better than Vera’s at the Mad Cow in Dawson.

  They stepped through the doors of the church. A man wearing bib overalls over a dress shirt handed her a bulletin. His gray hair was combed back, and his beard was neatly trimmed. He winked.

  “How do you do? I’m Robert Carter.”

  Breezy took the hand he offered. “I’m Breezy Hernandez.”

  “Good to know you, miss. And I see you dragged in this scoundrel. How you doing today, Jake? Looks like you’re hanging with a better class of people than normal.”

  “I hope you haven’t told Duke he’s outclassed,” Jake said with a grin.

  “I’d say he already knows it.” Robert pounded Jake on the shoulder. “You’d best get a seat. And, young lady, watch out for those Martin boys. They’re trouble.”

  Breezy smiled at that as they made their way to the front of the church. Duke was indeed waiting for them. He’d left two seats to his left empty. As they approached he stood, a welcoming look on his face. Breezy breathed a little easier. Duke made people feel at ease. He held a hand out to her and pulled her to the seat next to his.

  “Smile, sunshine, or they’ll think we’re holding you hostage. You know, back in the old days…”

  “Don’t tell stories, Duke.” Jake sat down.

  Breezy smiled and took the seat between the two brothers. For a moment there was peace. She glanced around, not wanting to be conspicuous as she surveyed the building. The walls were wood paneled but painted white. A cross hung at the front, behind the pulpit. The band was tuning up. A drummer, guitar player and pianist. Someone stepped forward with a violin.

  After a song service that had the church on their feet, the pastor stepped forward. He didn’t wear a suit, just jeans and a button-down shirt. His hair was buzzed short and he looked to be not much older than Breezy. But as he spoke, she stopped thinking about his appearance and focused on a message that asked his congregation
to really think about what Christmas means to them. Not as Christians, but personally.

  How does it change their lives? How does it affect their choices and the way they reach out to others? What makes them different than everyone else in the world?

  Breezy leaned in a little, listening to his words. What did Christmas mean to her? As a child it had been a hard time of year, spent in shelters and run-down motels. They’d rarely had a tree. They hadn’t spent the day with family, enjoying a big meal. It had been a holiday when churches would reach out to people like Breezy and Maria. She would get a few gifts, maybe new socks and a sweater, sometimes gloves or a jacket. She’d always felt embarrassed taking those gifts, but she’d always wanted them. She’d wanted pretty packages, something new. She’d opened each silly little gift as if it were…

  She held her breath and closed her eyes as an image of three wise men kneeling before a baby flashed through her mind.

  Duke patted her arm in a brotherly way and told her to take a deep breath. She tried but it came out as a sob. Christmas had changed her life because for one day each year she’d mattered to someone. The kindness of strangers had mattered.

  How could she make that difference in other people’s lives?

  When the service ended, she didn’t move, not right away. She needed time to reflect on how, in one message, Christmas had changed for her. Pieces, broken and scattered, had come back together. Jake stood, his blue eyes reflecting understanding.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m good. Thank you.”

  He nodded and walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  *

  Jake headed for the nursery to get the twins. He should have stayed and said more to Breezy, but he hadn’t known what. She’d been sitting there in a prairie skirt, denim jacket and a pastel scarf around her neck, looking like someone who needed a hug. He was the last man for that job.

  Duke was there. He was a hugger. They all had their roles in the world. Duke was better at sympathy and compassion. Jake was the brother who made sure everyone was taken care of.

  When he walked up to the nursery the girls ran at him, tackling his legs with chubby arms that held tight. The nursery worker, Janet Lester, told him the girls had been good but that Rosie seemed to have the sniffles. He picked both girls up and Rosie did look a little the worse for wear. Her nose was red and her eyes a little misty. Jake’s aunt Patty appeared from the back of the nursery, a sympathetic look on her face.

  “She’s not feeling her normal happy self.”

  “No, doesn’t appear to be,” he agreed.

  He kissed her forehead the way he’d seen Elizabeth do. Thinking about his sister brought a sharp ache to his heart. His own twin, the person he’d always counted on to share the burden of raising their ragtag family, was gone. Now her little girls needed him to protect them, to raise them and love them.

  Without really thinking, he stepped away from the nursery, forgetting for a moment to thank Janet and his aunt Patty. He turned at the last moment and called out to them. They waved and went back to the children whose parents hadn’t yet picked them up.

  Outside the air was cool but not cold. He headed toward his truck and Duke waylaid him.

  “You invited Breezy for lunch, didn’t you?”

  “I did. Where is she?” He shifted the girls. Duke reached for Violet, taking half the load.

  “Talking to Margie Fisher. Margie is in charge of the caroling this year and I mentioned to her that Breezy sings. I thought it might help her to adjust if she felt included. I think they’re also discussing the decorating committee. When Margie finds a willing volunteer, she hangs on tight.”

  “You’re not getting her involved. You’re throwing her to the wolves.”

  Duke grinned at that. “Yeah, well, everyone needs to feel included.”

  “Right.” He glanced around and saw Breezy on the sidewalk. Margie stood in front of her, talking nonstop. Margie, with her dark gray dress, neat gray bun and glossy black cane looked like a formidable woman at first glance. But as starched as she appeared on the outside, she was spun sugar on the inside. No one had a bigger heart than Margie Fisher.

  Duke tickled Violet and she giggled. Then he blew raspberries on her cheek. She giggled more. Rosie was a dead weight in Jake’s arms, sound asleep.

  “Rose not feeling good?” Duke asked.

  “Doesn’t appear to be.”

  “Take her on home. I can make sure Breezy escapes.”

  Jake nodded but his gaze caught and held on the woman in question. The wind picked up and she caught her hair and held it back with her hand, but tendrils drifted free and blew across her cheeks. Her hair smelled like sunshine, he knew. It bothered him more than a little that he’d noticed.

  But thinking about Breezy was less disturbing than thinking about the sermon that had stabbed at his conscience. Because what was Christmas to him? A time to bring family together? Traditions of a big meal, a tree decorated with ornaments that had been kept for years, maybe generations? What else? Community parties, events that kept them busy for the holiday season?

  He let his gaze shift to a man walking out the double doors of the church. Joe with no last name. He’d been in church and now he was walking next to a mom with two small children. Jake didn’t know their names.

  “I have to go. Can you hand Violet over to Breezy? I think she has a car seat in her car.”

  “Sure thing. I have car seats, too. We’re all prepared. Is Brody at the house?”

  “Yeah, at least he was when I left. See you there.”

  “Yep.” Duke shifted Violet to his other arm and the two waved goodbye as Jake headed out with Rosie.

  The young mom and Joe were still walking, the kids staying close to their mom as she tried to shelter them from the rain. Joe took off his jacket to hold it over the little ones. Jake hurried to his truck, unlocked the door and buckled Rose in the car seat.

  A few minutes later, he pulled up next to Joe, the mom and those two kids. The rain was falling a little harder now. He rolled down the window and they all looked at him. Joe smiled and tipped that bent-up hat he wore. The mom, who might have been in her early twenties, looked worn down.

  “Do you need a ride?” he offered, leaning a little to look down at the two kids, who had backed away but were grinning like the idea of riding in his truck was the coolest thing ever.

  The mom started to shake her head but Joe opened the back door of the truck and the kids piled in, wet hair and damp clothes. “Of course she does. It’s really coming down and she lives a half mile out. I told her someone would give her a ride.”

  “Of course,” Jake agreed. “Joe, you get in, too.”

  “I don’t have far to go,” Joe answered. The mom had climbed in the front. Jake pushed the armrest back to open the middle seat. She scooted and Joe stood, unsure.

  “Nevertheless…” Jake paused. “We have roast on at the house. There’s plenty for all of us.”

  “I’d never turn down roast.” Joe pulled himself into the truck. “Thank you, Jake.”

  Jake glanced back over his shoulder where the boys had buckled in, looking drenched and cold. He introduced himself to the young woman, who was trying hard to tell him he didn’t need to feed them. He cranked up the heat.

  “No reason to let a good roast go to waste,” he argued back. “Unless you have other plans.”

  She shook her head and her arms went around her two boys. “No, sir, we don’t have other plans.”

  What did his faith mean to him? He glanced at the man sitting next to him and the three people in the backseat and he wondered if he’d have thought to give them a ride last week. How had he gotten so wrapped up in his own life that he’d stopped thinking to look around him?

  And what had made a difference this week? A sermon? Or the woman sitting next to him during that sermon? A woman he didn’t know that well, but knew without a doubt would have driven this unlikely four to their destinatio
n and fed them along the way.

  Chapter Eight

  Breezy followed Duke, who’d offered to carry Violet, through the house. She’d been in Jake’s house before but only as far as the office. Today she walked down a wide stone-tiled hallway to the kitchen. The home was stone and log on the outside, and the interior walls were the same. The massive kitchen looked like a restaurant. The counter formed an L-shaped bar around the cooking area. Bar stools were arranged around the counter. There was a wood-plank-style dining room table in the open section with French doors that led to a deck overlooking the hills in the distance.

  The room was already crowded with people. She smiled at Brody, whom she hadn’t been officially introduced to. He had Rose in his arms and was tickling her until she bent over, giggling. Joe was stirring something on the stove. A young mom and two little boys were sitting at the counter bar looking half-scared and out of place. Breezy gave her best encouraging smile and the mom shrugged thin shoulders.

  “Hey, looks like a houseful!” Duke grinned big and the little boys shrank against their mom. Of course they did. It wasn’t every day a kid learned about Goliath at church and then went to lunch with someone that looked like he might be Goliath.

  Breezy stepped next to the giant. “Ease up, you’re a little bit scary.”

  He glanced down at her. “I’m handsome, not scary.”

  He grinned again at those little boys.

  “No,” she countered, “you’re scary. If I didn’t know you, I’d want a slingshot and some rocks.”

  He laughed at that. “Breezy, I’ve been described a lot of ways, but you’re the first to call me a Philistine.”

  “Well, if the shoe fits.” She glanced at his feet. “But do they make shoes that fit?”

  He laughed again, then the two little boys laughed and their mom broke into a hesitant smile. Breezy stepped away from the friendly giant. “I’m Breezy, and you are?”