by Colleen Coble, Kristin Billerbeck, Denise Hunter, Diann Hunt
“I know all about that. Believe me.” The way he stared at her caused a fluttering in her stomach. It meant nothing, though. Nothing.
Michael walked around, checking random tools. Anna stayed close, unsure of what creatures might inhabit the barn. When a mouse scurried across the floor, she grabbed his arm and a scream erupted from her throat. She leaped onto an empty crate.
He chuckled and helped her down as the mouse ran off. “You’ll have to get used to that in the country. Comes with the territory.”
Anna didn’t like the sound of that, but she hoped the sheep would keep the mice away. She felt cold when Michael’s hand dropped away from hers.
“I feel better when I’m out here in the country somehow. Sometimes I still get anxious when I’m not busy doing something productive. I have to keep telling myself I don’t have to be making money to be valuable.”
“Owning my own business, I have to be careful too. With no children at home, work can consume me sometimes. It’s a balancing act.”
“It’s a hard balance. I just know I don’t want to come to the end of my life and realize I didn’t do anything but make money. I want to make a life.” He looked at her and laughed. “Sounds cheesy, huh?”
She laughed with him. “Maybe a little. But I understand where you’re coming from.”
“How long have you been in Smitten?” He leaned against a wooden beam.
“Born and raised here. We traveled some when my husband was in the military, but we always knew we’d come back to Smitten to raise our girls.” She shrugged. “We had family here. We liked small-town living.”
“Was your husband from here too?”
She shook her head. “He came here to visit a friend when he was on leave. We met, had a whirlwind courtship, and got married.” Opening herself to conversation about Joe unnerved her. She wanted to change the subject and fast. She glanced around. “I’ve prayed about it, Michael. And now, seeing your space here, I’m going to give it a trial run.”
“That’s great,” he said. He leaned toward her as though to give her a hug, coughed, and edged back. “I think you’ll enjoy the adventure.”
“Thank you so much for your help and encouragement. And for bringing me out to the barn this afternoon. It’s been fun.”
“One good turn deserves another,” he said. “You helped me when I couldn’t get around much. Now it’s my turn.”
She smiled and pulled the handle on the truck door to get in, ignoring the disappointment she felt that he’d helped her out of a sense of responsibility.
Friday night Anna joined the other angel choir members on the risers. This was not a singing choir. Music played over the sound system, and the angels merely raised their arms in praise. Their wings, large and feathered, were attached to their arms and backs. It made quite a spectacular sight.
The air was icy, but at least the wind stayed calm. Participating in her church’s live nativity was one of the highlights of Anna’s Christmas season. This year was especially fun because Mr. McCreedy allowed the four sheep she was borrowing-with-the-option-to-buy to take part. In fact, the bleachers she stood on overlooked the sheep pen where four men, dressed as shepherds, watched over the sheep. They had a fire pit with a strong fire going to keep warm.
Everyone wanted to be a shepherd.
Tires crunched in the snow as cars meandered through the lot and down their street. Some people pulled in and got out of their cars to take pictures or to take their children up close to see Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus.
Because of the cold weather, participants worked in halfhour shifts. When each shift was done, they’d go inside and eat sandwiches and cookies and drink hot chocolate. It was a festive yet meaningful time for all.
With the sting of winter on her cheeks and the tingle of cold air on her fingers and toes, Anna was looking forward to her break. They were halfway through the “Hallelujah Chorus”; once that was over, she could go inside.
Just as the singers on the CD belted out, “Forever and ever,” a car backfired next to them. The sheep bleated, then scattered. One of them jumped the fence.
Anna gasped and pushed her way through the adoring angels, sideswiping a few with her enormous wings.
“Sorry, Shelby. Excuse me, Natalie. Sorry, Julia.”
“Ouch!”
“Didn’t mean to do that, Reese.”
Once she’d made her quick apologies, she ran toward the sheep, wings flapping at her back, feathers flying willy-nilly, halo askew. She had to get to that sheep before it ran out into traffic.
Onlookers watched as shepherds and angels closed in on the runaway sheep. Joseph peered through a crack in their temporary shelter to see what was happening. The donkey turned and hee-hawed. Other sheep bleated their sympathy to their runaway comrade, and a goat fainted right on the spot, knocking over a bucket and sending it clanging and rolling across the frigid parking lot. An agitated llama—compliments of a llama farm in Stowe—spit toward its llama partner, but the glob landed smack-dab on Anna’s chest. She stopped and stared at the gooey mess, then gasped as the sheep reached the corner where the manger stood.
Moving cars were only a few feet away. She had to get him— now. Seeing the sheep round the bend and enter the manger scene, Anna closed in on him. Just as the animal took steps toward moving traffic, Anna threw herself on him, wings and all, and held on for dear life. Once she realized the sheep had stopped moving, she grabbed his halter and stood to her feet. That’s when she heard clapping. Turning toward the sound, she spotted Michael and Pastor Walden grinning and clapping.
“I told you she’d make a great shepherd,” Michael said to the pastor.
She tugged on the sheep. “Years of mothering three active girls was great practice.”
The men laughed, then Michael went to the sheep pen and opened the gate for her.
“Let’s go in and eat,” he suggested, his hand nudging the small of her back.
The crisp air, the excitement of rounding up the sheep, and Michael’s compliment left her practically breathless . . . or was it because of Michael’s guiding hand on her back?
With Michael offering his barn for her sheep, Anna had felt compelled to invite him and his mother over to share Christmas Day with her family. It was the least she could do, she had told her girls, though they just grinned at her.
After they had finished their Christmas meal, everyone settled in the family room near the decorated Christmas tree. Beneath the tree, wide ribbons and bows adorned colorful wrapping paper that covered gifts of assorted shapes and sizes.
The wind wailed against the house while the little group snuggled into the warmth of the fireplace and Anna read the Christmas story from the gospel of Luke. A time of sweet prayer followed.
Aunt Violet, Aunt Petunia, and Anna’s mother, Rose, got up and played some Christmas carols on their instruments. As “Silent Night” flowed across the strings of their instruments, Anna thought it a perfect moment. She couldn’t help looking at Michael, sitting next to his mother, holding her hand. He seemed nothing like Joe, but how could she be sure? Once married, some men changed—at least Joe had. Not that she was thinking of marrying Michael . . .
Just then he met her glance, and she prayed he couldn’t read her mind. Marriage, or any kind of relationship for that matter, was most likely the furthest thing from his mind.
The sisters finished their music and received the appropriate applause from the tiny audience. Afterward, Anna asked Michael to pass out the gifts.
The air soon filled with ribbons and scraps of Christmas wrap and the chatter of happy family and friends and glee over each thoughtful gift displayed. Sweaters, makeup, jewelry, and gift cards piled around each individual’s small fortress.
“I figured a shawl might keep you warm when your room gets cold,” Anna said to Emma when she opened the gift Anna had made for her.
Knobby fingers stroked the soft yarn a time or two. “It’s lovely, my dear.” Mrs. Conner draped the shawl around h
er shoulders. “And it feels so nice.” She looked over at Anna’s mother. “You have a lovely daughter.”
Rose smiled. “I happen to agree.”
Anna felt her cheeks flush with the attention. “I’m so glad you like it.” She turned to Michael. “You missed one,” she said, pointing to the lone gift beneath the tree.
Michael pulled it out. A look of surprise came over him, and Anna grinned. “You didn’t think I’d invite you over without a gift, did you?”
“Thank you.” Michael worked his fingers through the tape while everyone watched.
Zoe tossed a wink at Anna, much to her dismay. Rose smiled. Aunt Petunia clasped her hands together like a little girl about to break out in a clapping frenzy. Aunt Violet looked as though she would reserve her judgment until she saw the gift.
When he opened the box, Michael pulled out a black cashmere scarf. “Did you make this?” he asked, admiring the gift.
“Yes, I did.”
The aunts exclaimed over the stitches. Even Aunt Violet.
“This is way too nice.” He wrapped it around his neck.
“My, my, I should say that’s nice,” Michael’s mother said, admiring the handiwork.
“Mom, you are so talented,” Zoe said.
“That’s our mom,” Tess said.
“Oh, stop, it’s just a scarf.” Anna looked at Michael. “You’ve helped me out with the sheep. It’s the least I could do.” She picked up the pieces of loose wrapping paper near her and stuffed them into a garbage bag. “Next year I’ll be knitting with wool from my very own sheep!”
“Knitting something for me?” Michael asked playfully.
“Who knows? Maybe,” Anna said with a grin. She stood to take the trash bag out to the kitchen.
“Wait,” Michael said.
Anna turned to him.
“I have something for you as well.” He smiled and pulled a box from his pocket.
The entire room went silent. Anna could feel the stares boring into her.
“Michael, you shouldn’t have.” The wrapping slipped from her fingers as she opened the box to find a sterling silver charm in the form of a sheep.
“I just thought it sort of, um, fit,” he said.
Whispered oohs and aahs followed. Obviously Michael had won her girls over. Aunt Petunia and her mother too, by the looks of things. Aunt Violet’s expression said she refused to commit one way or the other.
“It’s very nice, Michael. Really. Thank you.”
“I saw you wearing a charm bracelet one day, right? You do have one?”
“Yes, I have one. This will look perfect on it.” Anna tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The gift was so . . . unexpected. It tugged on her emotions more than she cared to admit.
After a moment Clare announced, “Sorry to run.” She pulled her coat from the guest closet and tugged it on. “I have to go, Mom. Josh’s family gathering is in a half hour.”
Anna got up and straightened the new scarf dangling from Clare’s neck and kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t break his heart.”
Clare laughed and waved her off. “You worry too much.”
Anna didn’t remind Clare of her track record of breaking it off with any young man who got too close.
Clare said her good-byes and headed out the door.
When Anna came back into the room with the others, she noticed Michael had gone into the kitchen for something. Her girls were talking with her mom and aunts near Emma, but Emma wasn’t paying attention.
“What are you talking about?” Anna asked when she stepped up beside her girls.
“I asked them if they’d heard of this Parakaleo Pal thing,” Zoe said.
“Yeah, I heard about it,” Tess replied. “Don’t know who it is, though. Could be a group of people.”
“I heard they help people all around town—single mothers, that is,” Zoe added.
“I heard about that too,” Aunt Petunia said. “It’s a nice thing, whoever is doing it.”
“What on earth is a parkaloo?” Aunt Vi said.
“Par-a-ka-le-o,” Tess corrected. “I think it’s Greek or something—at least it sounds like it. I think it means ‘encourager,’ but I’ll look it up on my computer when I get home.”
Michael cleared his throat. “Yes, well, Mom is getting tired, so I’d better get her back.” He stood. “Anna, I don’t suppose you’d want to go with me to check on the sheep later?”
“I’d love to. Everyone is leaving here to go to other celebrations,” Anna said. She always hated the quiet of her home after everyone left. This would give her something to do on Christmas afternoon.
“Great. The way that wind is picking up, I think we should make sure they have all that they need in case we can’t get to them right away. I have to stop by my house and change clothes after I drop Mom off. Then I’ll come by and pick you up.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Michael and his mother left the house with Anna looking on. The cold wind tossed snowflakes about and caused bare tree limbs to creak and groan. She shivered. A layer of frost covered the window on her door. Heavy gray clouds hung from the afternoon sky.
She was glad Michael had thought ahead about the sheep. If they weren’t able to reach them before the snow got deep, the poor sheep would starve. It was really more than a one-person job, this sheep-raising thing. Had she been foolish to jump in with both feet so quickly? With a sigh she closed the door, the last blast of wind chilling her to the bone. At least she could be thankful Michael had a barn and that the sheep were inside.
CHAPTER SIX
After the festivities of Christmas Day were over, everyone had gone home except for Anna’s mother, Rose.
“That was a lovely Christmas dinner, dear,” Rose said. “Are you all right? You look a bit worried about something.”
“I’m going out to the barn to check on the sheep with Michael.”
“And?”
“And what? I’m just a little nervous about spending time with him like that.” Nervous was putting it mildly.
“You’re just going to a barn, not out to dinner.” Rose took her daughter’s hand and gave it a pat. “I know it’s hard to forget the harsh words Joe said to you.”
“Harsh? He told me I looked like a cow in my blue dress.” Her throat closed at the memory. “Always said my hair was too short or too thin or too mousy. Of course, he compared me to his latest f ling—and she was always at least ten years younger. How could I measure up?”
Rose pulled Anna into a full embrace, then stepped back and with her hands on Anna’s shoulders looked her in the eye. “That was Joe. This is Michael. And you know as well as I do Michael isn’t anything like that.”
“I don’t know that at all. I barely know Michael. I thought Joe was special too, and my life was miserable.”
“Take your time. Get to know Michael. But don’t shut him out without giving him a chance. You have to allow yourself to love again, Anna.”
“He’s a friend, Mom. That’s all he is, and that’s all he’ll ever be.”
Her mother sighed and glanced at her watch. “Well, I should be going. Think about what I said?”
“All right.” Closing the door behind her mother, Anna leaned on it and sighed. She knew she was capable of love. But would she ever be able to trust a man again?
Michael leaned in toward the windshield to get a better view as the wiper blades brushed away the falling snow. “Boy, it’s really starting to come down. We’ll run in, feed and water the sheep, then head back to the truck. Sound good?”
Anna gave a nod, but the thought of facing the snow and cold was daunting.
“Let’s go.” The truck doors protested, cold steel upon cold steel. The howling wind chased Anna and Michael forward. Long icicles clung to the eaves of the barn. The old building rattled and groaned against the wind. Anna pulled her scarf closer to her neck, then tucked the sides further into the nape of her coat. Cold air nipped at their gloved fingers and the tip of her nose, w
hile snowflakes slipped onto their eyelashes, coating them in lacy white.
Out of breath from running and the cold, they found refuge in the barn.
Anna turned and saw Michael starting up the new wood-burning stove that stood in the middle of the barn.
“Did you install that since we were out here last?”
“Well, I had it installed,” he said, reaching into a pile of cut logs and loading a couple into the potbellied stove.
“But why? You don’t even live here.” Anna handed him another stick of wood.
Michael shrugged. “I thought if it got too cold, I’d come watch over the sheep and turn on the stove to keep us all warm.”
A bold and tender gesture. Her resolve against this man was melting.
They turned around at the same time to find the sheep out of the large stall, bleating and staring at them.
“The latch on that stall doesn’t work. I’ll have to fix that,” Michael said. “In the meantime, we’ll put them in individual stalls to keep them out of trouble.”
“Michael, there are only three. Where’s the fourth?” Anna scanned every nook, cranny, and stall for the lost sheep. It couldn’t be out there in that storm.
“It has to be here somewhere,” Michael said.
After a thorough look in the barn, Anna pointed out a small back door that was open partway. A paint can blocked it from opening more or the barn would have been North Pole cold.
“What are we going to do? I haven’t even paid for those sheep yet.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go out and look for him. He might have ventured into the woods behind us.”
“Not the woods!” Anna straightened her hat and scarf. “I’m going with you. They’re my sheep, and I’m responsible.”
Michael held her arm as they tromped through the snow and stepped into the cold forest where the wind whined and raced through the frigid trees.
“Here, sheep,” Anna called out, wishing she had taken Zoe’s advice and named the animals. Not that sheep probably came to their names being called.
