The Doctor's Christmas

by Marta Perry

  “The fact is, it’s Christmas Eve,” he continued. “Even if you had a reason for suspecting someone was breaking the law, I can’t imagine any good social worker would try to snatch children away from a safe situation on Christmas Eve.”

  “I knew I’d find them in church on Christmas Eve if they were here.” Her arrogance was tinged, for the first time, with defensiveness.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really.” Two syllables to express doubt. “That hardly seems a reason to me for such drastic action.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying right along,” Gus said. “We ought to let this go till after Christmas.”

  The woman’s flush deepened alarmingly. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

  Gus hesitated, probably weighing his desire to go home to his family against the Hadley woman’s political clout. He needed something to push him over the edge.

  Grant pulled out his cell phone. “Something was mentioned about calling Nella Bascom,” he said pleasantly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, but my speed dial does connect with the home phone of John Gilbert, senior partner in Gilbert, Gilbert and Hayes. He handles the legal affairs of the Hardesty Foundation. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind disturbing—” He paused, turning to Gus. “By the way, who’s the county judge?”

  Gus grinned. “That would be Layton Warren.”

  “I’m sure my attorney wouldn’t mind calling Judge Warren on Christmas Eve, if necessary, to obtain an injunction preventing you from removing the children pending a hearing.” He raised the phone. “Shall I make the call?”

  The sanctuary was hushed. It felt as if no one so much as took a breath. He sensed, quite suddenly, the wave of prayer flooding the room from all those souls sending up the same petition at one time.

  Mrs. Hadley was as pale now as she’d been ruddy before. Her mouth moved twice. Then she spoke.

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said in a strangled tone.

  “No, indeed,” Gus said promptly, taking her arm in a firm grip.

  Grant could breathe, but he couldn’t relax yet. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. I’m sure none of us wants further unpleasantness.” Grant dropped the phone back into his pocket.

  “Guess we’ve held up the Christmas pageant long enough.” Gus nudged the woman toward the door.

  For a moment Grant thought she’d stage a comeback. Then she seemed to sag into herself. She allowed the deputy to propel her to the door.

  Gus paused, touching the brim of his hat. “Merry Christmas, folks.”

  Grant caught the sound of Maggie’s sigh of relief, so soft no one else could have heard it. He wanted to turn to her, sharing the moment.

  But even if they hadn’t stood in full view of the entire village, that probably wasn’t a good idea. His own emotions ran too high, and he could only imagine what she might be feeling.

  They’d saved the Bascom kids for the moment, but nothing was resolved between them. That was the bottom line.

  He’d better be perfectly sure he knew what he wanted before he said one more word to her.

  There’d been a moment when she might have said something to Grant—tried to express her feelings. Then the organ started to play, the children filed into their places and the opportunity had passed. Maggie, kneeling next to the front pew, motioned the shepherds to close their eyes in feigned sleep before the angels startled them awake.

  God, breaking into ordinary lives and making them different. Making them new.

  Was that what was happening to Grant? She couldn’t think of anything else to account for the extraordinary change in his attitude.

  Grant, the person who’d pushed all along to turn the children over to social services, had instead walked into the sanctuary and taken on the system he’d claimed to rely upon.

  Walked in? Maybe that wasn’t quite the right explanation for Grant’s appearance.

  The angels popped out from behind the chancel rail, waking the shepherds. Mary Jo Carter’s blue jeans peeked from the hem of her white gown, adding an interesting contrast to her angel costume. Someone should have caught that before the performance started. Her, probably. But she’d been a bit preoccupied, hadn’t she?

  She’d called Grant. In that moment of crisis, when she’d faced something she couldn’t handle on her own, she’d called on him for help.

  Maybe that wasn’t as surprising as she thought. Maybe she’d been moving in that direction throughout the past month, as their lives had become more and more entwined.

  He’d come—that was the significant thing. He’d answered her cry for help, and he’d saved them.

  She had no illusions about that. If Grant hadn’t appeared just when he did, the Bascom kids would be on their way to spending Christmas Eve in foster care. No one else would have succeeded in stopping Mrs. Hadley. He’d thrown his power and influence into the mix, and that had swung the balance to their side.

  What was it going to cost him?

  The organist hit the opening chords of “The First Noel,” and the congregation rose to join the children in the carol. Under cover of the movement, she glanced back to the center aisle.

  Halfway back, Grant shared a hymnal with Aunt Elly. He could have left. He could have walked right out the door behind Gus and Mrs. Hadley, but he hadn’t. She wasn’t sure what that meant.

  He’d been willing to risk the partnership he wanted for the sake of the children. He could still lose, and so could they. If Nella didn’t come back, Mrs. Hadley would undoubtedly be seeing the judge the day after Christmas. The resulting clash might end with the clinic closed and Grant’s partnership destroyed.

  Why had he taken that chance?

  Not because of me, Lord. I know that. Have You found a way into his heart?

  The shepherds, sneakers showing beneath their robes, had found their way into the stable to kneel before the manger. The sheep, provided by Dawson Carter from his flock, gazed at them benignly. Her throat tightened.

  These people—her people—probably understood as much as anyone about this familiar scene. They lived close to the land, too. They knew what it was to stand in a barn on a cold winter’s night and feel the warm breath of the animals, patient in their stalls.

  The kings, surprisingly stately in their makeshift finery, moved toward the manger. Their presence pricked her.

  God had not kept His revelation only for the poor and humble. The rich and powerful had been invited to that stable, too.

  She glanced at Joey, half expecting tears, but he watched the kings with a critical eye, apparently ready to pounce on any mistake.

  The pageant moved to its timeless conclusion, and the organ sounded the final carol. As always, it was “Away in a Manger.” The children’s voices piped in the first chorus, and her tears spilled over. She let them fall, unashamed.

  As the congregation joined in the second verse, she looked again toward Grant. He sang with the rest, and his eyes shone with tears.

  Has he resolved his quarrel with You, Father? Has he found his way through his grief?

  If he had, then Grant was whole again. She couldn’t ask for more than that.

  She couldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to. She’d never really believed there could be anything serious between them, but she’d gone and fallen in love with him anyway.

  Well, she’d deal with it. He’d go back to Baltimore, and she’d deal with that, too. Knowing him, loving him, had helped her move past some of her private demons. She’d be a better Christian for having loved him.

  Her gaze drifted over the faces of her friends—no, her family. She loved them. They loved her. With all their faults, they’d never let her down. They never would.

  Someone moved, drawing her attention to the very rear of the sanctuary. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Nella. Nella had come home for Christmas.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maggie’s heart was so full she couldn’t speak a word. She could only watch as others realized Nella was there. A wave of
joy seemed to pulse through the sanctuary, uniting them.

  Willing hands pushed Nella toward the front, with people patting her, hugging her.

  Maggie grabbed Tacey, who was nearest to her. “Look.” She pointed. “Look who’s here.”

  Nella stepped clear of the crowd. Tacey and Robby were a blur of movement as they rushed into her arms.

  Maggie started toward Joey, but Grant reached him first. He scooped the boy up and carried him to his mother.

  Following them, Maggie saw the expression on Grant’s face as he put Joey into Nella’s arms. The guarded look had vanished from his eyes. Anyone who looked could see the loving person Grant was inside, and he didn’t seem to care.

  Thank You, Father. Somehow the thought that he would leave didn’t hurt quite as much, because she could see beyond her own personal pain. You used us to reach him. No matter what he does or where he goes, he’ll be a better person and a better doctor for having been here.

  “Maggie.” Nella reached out to embrace her, squishing Tacey between them in a joyful hug. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  She looked tired and thin, but her hazel eyes shone with a peace that transcended the external. Nella looked like a person who’d been through fire and come out with a new sense of who she was.

  “We’re glad you’re home.” Maggie gestured toward Grant. “This is Dr. Hardesty.”

  “I already told her,” Joey said importantly. “I told her how Dr. Grant took care of me.”

  “I’d heard about the doctor. My aunt told me you folks came all the way to West Virginia looking for me.”

  Maggie shook her head, remembering the elderly woman who’d shut the door in her face. “She did a good job of telling us she’d never heard of you.”

  “I was worried.” A flush rose in Nella’s pale cheeks. “Guess about now I’m feeling pretty ashamed of how I acted. I don’t know why you went on trusting me.”

  “Because we knew you’d do the right thing.” Maggie squeezed her.

  Nella wiped away a tear. “I figured I wasn’t a very strong person. But knowing you—” Her glance seemed to gather in the whole village, pressing around her. “Knowing all of you had faith in me, well, I guess that convinced me I should have faith in myself.”

  “You have friends here,” Pastor Jim said. “We won’t let you down.”

  “Probably Mrs. Hadley would still say I can’t make it, if I have to depend on other people.”

  “Mrs. Hadley isn’t human enough to understand.” Maggie realized she could think of the woman now without her childhood’s fear. “We all need help sometimes.” Did Grant understand what she was saying? “Sometimes we just have to learn how to ask for it.”

  Nella’s smile trembled on the verge of tears. “I won’t be the person I was in my marriage. Not ever again.”

  For an instant Maggie seemed to see her mother’s face, and the last faint bitterness slipped from her heart.

  She did the best she could, Father. I see that now. Thank You that Nella found herself before it was too late for her and the children.

  “Thank you, all of you.” Nella’s whisper seemed to penetrate the farthest reaches of the sanctuary. “God bless you.”

  Pastor Jim cleared his throat. “That sounds like a benediction to me. God bless us all. And now—” his smile broke through “—I happen to know that a birthday cake for Jesus is waiting downstairs. Let’s celebrate.”

  Maggie was caught in a flood of goodwill as people moved toward the stairs. As she reached the last pew, Grant caught her arm.

  “Come outside with me for a minute, Maggie.” His eyes were very serious. “I have something to say to you.”

  Goodbye.

  The word pierced her heart. Grant’s time in Button Gap had come to an end. He wanted to say goodbye.

  She wanted to run downstairs, hide in the crowd and pretend this wasn’t happening. But she wouldn’t be a coward about it.

  She nodded, and they stepped together out into the starlit, silent night.

  How did he say what he needed to say to Maggie? His heart was so full he felt as if he’d choke when he tried to speak.

  They walked down the few steps to the sidewalk. Button Gap lay still around them, its lights flickering bravely against the blackness of the mountains looming above.

  Maggie’s head was tipped back, and he realized she looked, not at the mountains, but at the sky. It was a paler gray, spread with the crystal light of countless stars. The village’s Christmas lights were a simple imitation of the real thing.

  “Do you ever wonder what it was really like?” Maggie’s murmur barely touched the silence.

  “I know,” he said as softly. “It was like this. Dark, quiet, seeming lonely, but filled with good-hearted people who are open to miracles.”

  “You see that now?” She made it a question.

  He turned, so that they stood facing each other. He wanted to take her hands, but wasn’t sure he should. Not yet.

  “Yes.” He took a breath, trying to find the words. “You know what I was doing before I came here. I was trying to deny God’s existence, as if that would make my grief easier to control.”

  “That doesn’t work.” Her voice was gentle. “I know. I tried. You can’t box up pain and pretend it’s not there.”

  “I might never have faced that if I hadn’t come here.” He looked inward, probing for the truth. “Jason knew God was with him every step of the way.” He had to smile in spite of himself. “He’s probably been bugging God ever since, wanting to know when He planned to make me recognize the truth. That was Jason.”

  It was the first time he’d been able to say Jason’s name without pain—the first time he could smile in remembrance. Suddenly memories flooded through him in a tidal wave. Happy memories—things he’d locked away with the pain of Jason’s death.

  “As long as I couldn’t deal with Jason’s death, I couldn’t remember his life.” He did reach for her hands then. Hers were cold, but warmed to his touch. “You’ve given him back to me, Maggie.”

  “Not me. The Father did.” Starlight reflected in her eyes. “He used me, and I wasn’t a very willing tool.”

  “You can think of Him as Father, in spite of what your own father did.”

  “Aunt Elly helped me see that I could either let my past destroy me or I could let God use it to make me stronger. Seeing Him as a true Father was a big step forward for me.”

  She had a way of putting matters of faith into the simplest of terms. Once he’d have thought that naive, but no longer. Now he understood the strength and power of that.

  “I almost let Jason’s death destroy who I could be. I thought I was handling things better than my parents, because all they could do was give money in his memory. I thought giving my talent to healing was enough.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  She deserved to hear all of it.

  “No. It’s not enough. I realized tonight that God doesn’t want the little pieces of me I’ve been willing to give. He wants all of me.” He took a breath, letting the certainty settle deep inside him. “So that’s what He’s getting.”

  Joy lit Maggie’s face, and her hands gripped his. “I’m glad. You’ll be a better doctor for it, I promise you. When you go back—”

  “I’m not going back.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “Your partnership—surely that won’t be a problem now. You can explain.”

  “I don’t want to explain. I want to stay here.” He smiled. “I might not be the doctor you’d have chosen for Button Gap, but I think I’m the one Someone Else picked.”

  “You can’t give up everything you’ve wanted professionally.”

  “Maggie, listen. It’s not giving something up when you’ve found something you want more. I want to be here. I want to be an important part of people’s lives in a way I never could somewhere else. Button Gap needs me, but I need Button Gap just as much. It makes me whole.”

  Hope battled doubt in her expressive face. “The
county can’t afford a full-time doctor. It’s been hard enough to get them to fund the clinic.”

  He smiled. “Oddly enough, I don’t need the county’s salary. As a matter of fact, I think I can convince the family foundation to provide us with a better facility. They like giving away money.”

  “You’d actually do that? You won’t be sorry sometime down the road?”

  He knew the answer to that one. “I’ll never be sorry. This is what I want.”

  The church bells began to chime. Maggie looked up at the starry sky, as if hearing their echo in the stars.

  “It’s midnight. Merry Christmas, Grant.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket for the gift he’d been carrying around all day. He held it out to her.

  “Merry Christmas, Maggie.”

  The crystal angel dangled from his fingers, glinting with reflected starlight.

  He heard the sudden intake of her breath. She took the angel in both hands, and tears shone in her eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

  It was time to say the rest of it, and he was absurdly afraid she might not give him the answer he longed for.

  “I love you, Maggie Davis. Will you be my partner and my wife?”

  The bells fell silent, as if the world waited with him for her answer. Then he heard the voices ringing out from the church. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come…”

  Maggie’s face reflected that joy as she stepped forward into his arms. “I love you.”

  His lips claimed hers, and his heart filled with the certainty that he’d finally found his way home for Christmas.

  Epilogue

  “Let’s put the angel toward the top of the tree.” Standing on a step stool, he smiled down at Maggie. “Just to be on the safe side.”

  She glanced at the table, where Nella and Aunt Elly were helping the children string cranberries and popcorn together. “Good idea.” She held the crystal angel up to him with a small, private smile. “I want this one to stay whole.”