A (kinda) Country Christmas: A Christian Holiday Romance

by Krista Phillips

  There were so many questions and zero answers.

  She sat there and stared at the fire until it died down to ashes, no loud booming voices giving her direction, and no soft whispers either.

  Just silence.

  She glanced at the clock.

  Quarter after one. Christmas morning had come.

  Curling up on the couch, she tucked the throw pillow under her head and pulled the blanket she kept handy over her.

  In the fleeting moments before sleep arrived, she finally recognized the searing pain that wouldn’t let go.

  It was the cruel sensation of her heart breaking in two.

  Seventeen

  Light attacked her eyes, shaking her from an odd dream that was just out of grasp.

  Sadie stretched and moaned, wincing at the loud crack that came from her back.

  She kicked off the blanket her legs were tangled up in and stood, stretching again.

  Her eyes caught sight of the presents under the tree.

  Ah. Yes. Christmas morning. None of the typical excitement she usually felt was present at the thought.

  Her brain jolted as her eyes caught the light streaming in from the front window.

  It was Christmas morning, and Mari hadn’t woke her up at the crack of dawn, as she had every year for the past sixteen-ish years.

  “Mari?”

  No response.

  Fully awake now, she pounded up the stairs. They’d been up late. She probably had just overslept, too.

  Knocking on her door, she jumped when it opened under her hand. Peeking in, she frowned. “Mari?” The covers were rumpled, but the bed was empty.

  She checked the bathroom.

  Empty.

  Her heartbeat thudding in her throat, she ran down the stairs. “Mari! Where are you?” Maybe she’d been in the kitchen or—

  A little white piece of paper on the small table by the front door caught her eye.

  Grabbing it, she collapsed on the floor as she scanned the note.

  It’s time for me to fly, Mom. Merry Christmas. Love, Maribelle.

  No, no, no.

  She buried her face in her hands. Mari must have heard her and Nate last night.

  Nate. This was all his fault. Well good, then he could help Sadie find her. She stood up and reached to grab her keys from the hook by the door only—

  They were gone.

  One glance out the front door confirmed.

  Her little bird had flown away in Sadie’s only vehicle.

  Of course.

  At least she wasn’t walking or taking the bus or something. Sadie could be thankful for that anyway.

  Fishing her phone out of her purse, she clicked Nate’s name and tried not to panic as the phone rang. He answered on the second ring. “Merry Christmas.”

  “She’s gone.”

  He paused. “Who’s gone?”

  “Mari. She left a note. I think she heard us talking last night. She took my truck and is gone.”

  “Hold on. I’ll be right there.” A click and dead air followed.

  She stuffed her phone in her pocket then realized, duh. She could always call her daughter. Clicking on the smiling face framed with beautiful blond curls, Sadie prayed Mari would answer.

  But the call went straight to voice mail. “Mari, this is mom. Please call me. I’m worried sick. Love you, sweetie. And—Merry Christmas.”

  Tossing the phone onto the couch, she paced the floor. Should she call the police? Alert the news station?

  No. That was dumb. Mari was eighteen and had left a note. She legally wasn’t running away or doing anything wrong, except, of course, stealing her mother’s truck.

  And there was no way she’d report her own daughter for theft.

  Let her fly. Let yourself fly.

  Nate’s words from last night haunted her.

  What if he was right? What if instead of protecting her daughter, she’d just been grasping tight and stifling her, not letting her stand on her own two feet?

  What if—what if she was afraid she didn’t know how to fly without her daughter?

  She’d devoted every minute of every day to Maribelle for eighteen years, her attention only distracted by helping to run the boutique, but even that was to be able to pay bills to fund all Mari’s activities and put food on the table.

  After a few minutes of pacing, the front door opened.

  Sadie whipped around, but instead of Mari, Nate stood there. Two quick steps and he was bundling her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Sadie. This is all my fault.”

  She couldn’t even respond except to burrow herself deeper in his embrace.

  Oh it felt good not to be alone right now. To be held in his arms and have someone else to worry with her. For a moment, she let him hold her up and support her. Burying her face in his t-shirt clad chest, she inhaled his scent. Clean and soapy, minus the cologne he usually wore, but still masculine and still a hundred percent Nate. “It isn’t your fault.”

  He pushed her back to look in her eyes but didn’t let her go. “Yes, it is. I should have realized she might hear us and take what I said the wrong way.”

  “I think she realized you were right.”

  He slid a hand across her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. “How so?”

  “I think I’ve just been so afraid of losing her and being on my own, that I was holding on too tightly. But she’s her own woman now. And maybe it’s time I be my own woman too.”

  “That sounds very wise.”

  She pushed out of his embrace and wrapped her arms across her chest, a shiver of cold spiraling through her core.

  Nate glanced at the door. “Sorry. Forgot to close it.” He walked to shut it, then stopped. “Sadie, did you call anyone else?”

  “No, not yet. Why?”

  He pointed out the door. She came up behind him to see the most glorious sight in the world.

  Two vehicles came up the drive. A gray Honda sedan she’d never seen before, and behind it, Dad’s old truck.

  Not caring about her bare feet, she ran out to the snow-covered sidewalk to meet Mari jumping down from the cab of the truck. Sadie didn’t waste even a second before crushing her in a hug. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. You scared the daylights out of me.”

  Mari squeezed her back. “Sorry, Mom. I just needed to think a little, I guess.”

  Sadie let out the breath she felt like she’d been holding for the last twenty minutes. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. I should have let you fly a long time ago.”

  Nate called from the doorway. “Might wanna get back inside. Your feet are going to get frostbite.”

  Sadie grabbed Mari’s hand and scurried across the snow to the front door. Her feet were numb at this point anyway.

  Once they were inside, Mari paused. “Uh, Mom? There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Sadie braced herself. Mari’s expression scared her. She looked—worried. And a little guilty. Oh, Jesus, please no— “It’s okay, Honey. You know I’ll still love you no matter what.”

  Mari wrinkled her nose. “What? Oh my gosh Mom, I’m not like pregnant or anything. I was gone for a whole eight hours. Geez.”

  Relief flooded her. Not that she really thought that but—well. She was pretty sure she’d worn that same expression when telling her mom about Mari all those years ago. “Then what is it?”

  A knock sounded on the door that Nate had discreetly closed.

  Sadie looked at it, then at her daughter. She’d forgotten about the second car. “Are you—dating someone then?” Lord, I’ll be okay with this as long as he loves you and doesn’t do drugs—please!

  “No, I’m not dating anyone. You trained me well to just be friends with boys until I was ready for something more.”

  Sadie let go of her daughter and walked to the door. “Then who is visiting on Christmas morning?” She flung open the door to see—

  The world spun for a moment at the familiar face that had filled her nightmares for so long.


  How could—

  No. She blinked. Was she still dreaming? Another nightmare?

  A strong arm pulled her back against a solid body and supported her. Nate.

  She glanced back at her daughter who was biting her nails, a tell-tale sign of nerves and guilt, then back at the man who she hadn’t seen in almost nineteen years.

  “What are you doing here, Phin?”

  Eighteen

  “Merry Christmas, Sadie. It’s been a long time.”

  Gripping the doorknob, she motioned for him to come in. Not that she wanted to. She’d love nothing more than to slam the door in his face and never see him again.

  But if her world was going to crumble underneath her, she’d like to at least understand why. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” She shut the door behind him and straightened her spine.

  “Mari invited me.”

  Nate’s hand on her waist and gentle squeeze was the only thing that kept her from yelling liar at the man. “That makes no sense. Mari doesn’t even know you.”

  Her daughter stepped forward, an arm wrapped around her stomach. “Actually, I meant to tell you, Mom.”

  Sadie blinked and shook her head. “Tell me what? I don’t understand.” She’d always been honest with Mari. At first, she’d told her that her daddy was young and not ready to be a daddy. As she got older, she’d explained that her daddy had made some really bad choices which made him not be able to be a good daddy anymore. And in high school, they’d talked about drugs and how they ruined lives, her daddy’s a prime example.

  She’d given her a small old high school picture of Sadie and Phin, the only one she had. Mari kept it in one of the drawers of her jewelry box.

  “I looked him up over the summer. Online. You’d already told me his name, and I knew he’d gone to high school with you, so it wasn’t that hard. I found out he lives in Knoxville and got his email address.”

  Sadie blinked. Her daughter had done all this behind her back? “But—why? Weren’t you happy here?”

  Mari brushed away tears with the palm of her hand. “Of course I was, Momma. But—a girl wants to know her daddy too, you know? And so when I found him, I couldn’t help it. Did you know that I have two sisters and a little brother? We’ve been emailing back and forth for the last six months, just getting to know each other. I—I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you’d get mad.”

  And she would have. She was. Kinda. She looked from Phin to Mari, then back to Phin again. He looked—normal. Like a typical thirty-something guy, trim, a few early gray hairs speckling his black hair. His eyes were clear and serious, not distant and cloudy from drugs.

  Phin looped his thumbs through his belt loops. “I'm sorry to barge in like this on Christmas morning, but when Mari showed up this morning, I told her you’d be worried sick about her.”

  “Have you—have you two met before this then?”

  Mari shook her head. “No. Phin—I mean, Dad—thought I should tell you first. But I didn’t know where else to go this morning. I sat outside his house for over two hours before I had the courage to knock on the door.”

  “Listen, I need to be going back. Sadie, I—I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to tell you that for years, but never felt right intruding on your life after I left like I did. But I really am sorry for how I treated you. I was a messed up kid who was running as fast as I could away from God. I’ve already apologized to Mari for missing out on her growing up, and she’s forgiven me. I just—I’m really sorry.”

  She blinked away tears and sniffed, desperately trying not to completely come unglued in front of everyone. “I—forgive you.” And she did. Truth be told, she was a pretty lost kid herself back then.

  He reached out a hand, and she met his grip and shook it.

  “Merry Christmas everyone.” And with that, Phin was gone.

  Mari stood, her chin down.

  Sadie left Nate’s silent but strong presence to wrap her arms around her daughter. “You know that I love you, Maribelle Renee Jenkins, right?”

  Mari sniffled against Sadie’s shirt. “I know, Momma. I’m sorry.”

  Setting her away, she wiped her daughter's tears with her fingers. “Now stop that. No crying on Christmas unless they are happy tears. I think we should open presents, what do you think?” Talking could come later. But that would need to be a no-boys-allowed, PJ’s and popcorn type of talk.

  They spent the next hour taking their time, opening gifts, and finished off with Nate reading the Christmas story from Dad’s old Bible. They headed to Nate’s for lunch, where Kendra had already stationed herself, making the most delicious Christmas ham Sadie had ever tasted.

  The afternoon passed in lazy fashion, watching old movies and Nate beating the socks off everyone in checkers.

  When Mari declared she was tired at a mere six pm, Sadie stood from the couch to leave, but Kendra hopped up. “I’m going right by your place on my way home. I’ll just drop her off so you don’t have to rush.”

  Her little townhouse wasn’t even close to on the way to Kendra’s mountain home. “That’s okay. I need to—”

  “Fly.” Mari stood behind her and whispered the little word in her ear, then grabbed her purse and followed Kendra out the door.

  “Looks like we’ve been ganged up on.” Nate sat on the edge of the couch, folded the checkerboard and tossed the pieces into the box, then slid it on the shelf under the coffee table.

  Busy work to keep his mind off the woman he had confessed to being in love with last night after she kicked him out of her house.

  Not one of his brightest moments.

  “I think you’re right.”

  He sat back on the couch and patted the seat next to him.

  She sent him a wry smile and sat, keeping a good five inches between them.

  That would never do. He reached behind her and tugged her to him, settling her into the curve of his arm. “That’s better.”

  She didn’t answer except to curl her feet up behind her and snuggle into him.

  Bliss. Pure and utter bliss.

  He propped his feet up on the table, clad in the crazy elf-like Christmas socks Kendra had gotten him for Christmas.

  “Cute socks.”

  He wiggled his toes. “I’m afraid Christmas socks are going to be an annual gift from her, now.”

  “Maybe she’ll twist it up from time to time with a Christmas sweater or something.”

  “I think we’ll stick with the socks, thank you. Enough about my footwear and crazy sister, though. How are you doing?”

  She toyed with a button on his shirt as she sighed.

  He pushed away the image that played with his mind at her innocent motion. He didn’t have a right to that train of thought—yet. He gently grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. A little safer. Barely.

  “I’m doing okay. Today was just a lot. But—I’ve been thinking.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Thinking is always good.” Usually. Most of the time.

  “You were right about me.”

  He’d spent half the night praying for Sadie and Mari and their future. If Jesus was here, Nate would give him a giant hug and back slap right now. “Oh?”

  She squeezed his hand. “Now don’t get all cocky on me. I still don’t know how all—this would work out. But I do know that I need to let Mari fly and need to explore what that means for me.”

  He let go of her hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers, bringing her gaze to meet his. “Why don’t you know how all this will work out?”

  “You’re going to be gone for what, six months after the first of the year? And not just across the state, but across the world. I don’t know if I can be the woman that does the whole long distance thing. And—there is a lot still to figure out here. Even if I close Bethlehem’s boutique, I still need an income. It’s the only income Mari has right now too. I just—”

  “Marry me.”

  Her words jammed to a stop and her body
tensed at his side. “What did you just say?”

  What did he just say? He was not a rush-into-things kinda guy. That’s how mistakes got made, how businesses failed.

  But this wasn’t a business. It was the rest of his life. And deep in his heart, he knew it wasn’t a mistake. He’d just planned to initiate it a little more eloquently. “I turned down the Japan job. In fact, I put in for a transfer to an open position stateside in our Nashville office. It isn’t as close as Gatlinburg, but it’s only a few hours north of Chattanooga, so you’d still be in driving distance to Mari. And I might still have to travel some, but nothing like I do now.”

  She disengaged from his arms and stood up, wringing her hands together. “That’s—great. But—”

  He stood up beside her. “But what, Sadie? What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m afraid I’ll say no and regret it the rest of my life.”

  “Then say yes.”

  “But what if I say yes and a year down the line, regret that too?”

  He slid a hand behind her neck and brought his lips to her forehead, kissing over top of her bangs. “I can’t promise you we won’t fight, baby. I can’t even promise you there won’t be moments you’ll want to kick me to the curb. But I will promise to always love you and cherish you. To be the husband I never thought I’d be able to be. To honor our marriage and honor you, and most of all, honor God. There is not a thing that would change that between now and next month or next year. I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life getting to know every detail about the woman I love.”

  She reached up and ran her finger across his lips, sending shudders of pleasure down him. “Say it again.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “The whole thing?”

  A smile touched her lips as she swayed forward, closing the small gap between them. “No. The part about you loving me.”

  Pressing his forehead to hers, he looked into her deep, blue eyes. “Sadie Jenkins, I’m madly in love with you. I love the way you giggle when you laugh, even without knowing it. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you’re talking to a child, and how you love them well, regardless of how rascally they are. I loved the way you scowled at me when I broke your tree—”