Would she ever get tired of this, she wondered, holding Simon more tightly. She knew they would have their difficulties. Any relationship came with ups and downs. They’d had their differences already, but worked through them.
But she also knew that their love was founded on God’s love. And with His help, their home would be a place of refuge and comfort.
“Let’s go have supper,” Simon said, drawing away from her.
Caitlin smiled and hooked her arm in his. But as they left, she glanced back over her shoulder, out of the windows to the mountains beyond, praying they might be able to show the same view to their children and, Lord willing, children’s children.
Their family.
* * * * *
Dear Reader,
Our family has fostered for a number of years. Throughout that time we’ve seen the brokenness that can happen to children and their siblings when they are separated. We’ve seen some happy endings and some sad endings. Some children have stayed in touch, others we never hear from again. As foster parents, we’ve had to learn to truly let go of “our” children and pray that what we’ve shown them of God’s unfailing love will someday take root.
This book, the first of a series of three, was a way of saying “what if” with some of the stories we’ve been a witness to in both our and other foster parents’ homes. I’ve portrayed some “good” homes and, in Simon’s case, one that wasn’t quite as good as the norm. Most of the people we have met, however, are strong, faithful stewards of what God has blessed them with. This book is for them.
Carolyne Aarsen
P.S. I love to hear from my readers! Send your letters to Carolyne Aarsen, P.O. Box 114, Neerlandia, Alberta T0G 1R0, Canada.
Yuletide Homecoming
Bear with each other and forgive whatever
grievances you may have against one another.
Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
—Colossians 3:13
To those who struggle with the hurts of the past.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Excerpt
Chapter One
Thirty-six minutes to go. And though Sarah Westerveld had been driving west for five days to get to her old hometown of Riverbend, she needed every second of those thirty-six minutes to compose herself before meeting her father.
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time to the song blasting from the radio and waited at the town’s single stoplight. Not much had changed in the six years she had been gone. The bakery, the bank, the drugstore and the flower shop still anchored the four corners of the main street. Just down from the bakery was her cousin’s coffee shop, a rare new addition to Riverbend.
And the place she had arranged to meet her father.
Since she had moved away, she had received an envelope from him on the first of every month, his decisive handwriting on the outside, a check inside.
And nothing else. No letter. No note. Nothing to show that this came from her father.
A few weeks ago, however, instead of the check, inserted in the envelope was a single piece of paper with the words “Come Home. I need to talk to you” written on it.
When she phoned to find out what he wanted, he kept the call short, as he always did, and businesslike, as he always did. He said he wanted to tell her what he had to, face-to-face.
Her father wanted to meet her at home, but after all this time, she had no desire to visit with him in that large empty house echoing with memories. So they had arranged to meet at her cousin Janie’s coffee shop. Neutral ground, and not far from his office.
A horn honked behind her and Sarah jumped. The light had turned green. She gunned her car through the intersection and slid over the snow and into the lone parking spot down the block from her cousin’s coffee shop. Obviously Mr. Kennerman, the street maintenance man, was still around, and still not on the job.
She wound her scarf around her throat and pulled out a toque, jamming it over her long, blond hair before stepping from the warm confines of her car into the crisp winter weather.
I missed this, Sarah thought, tugging on a pair of gloves. Missed the bite of the cold, the invigorating freshness of the chilly air. Sarah pulled back the cuff of her glove.
Thirty-five minutes to go.
She had planned to stay at her cousin’s. Her father hadn’t objected when she told him. Still, she wasn’t sure if it was because he understood why, or because he simply didn’t want her in the family house, either.
Sarah locked her car and glanced down the road. The trees, now bare, reached farther over the street than she remembered. One of the older buildings in town had been renovated to its original glory. Flags, hanging from new streetlights, drifted in the cool breeze that scuttled rivulets of snow across the street.
The town was busy this early in the day. Busy for Riverbend, which meant most of the parking spots on Main Street were taken. A few people wandered down the sidewalks, their conversation punctuated by puffs of steam. Sarah shivered as she hurried along the path toward the coffee shop, anticipation fluttering through her at the thought of seeing her cousin after all this time.
The door of the coffee shop swung open and a man stepped out.
Dark was the first thought that came to mind. Dark eyebrows. Dark hair. A lean jaw shadowed by whiskers. Angular features molded in a look that both challenged and engaged all comers. His coffee-
brown hair brushed the collar of a faded canvas coat open to reveal a denim jacket and sweatshirt. Brown eyes swept over her and Sarah’s heart did a slow turn in her chest.
Logan Carleton.
Logan of the scribbles in her notebook, the long, slow looks across the gymnasium and stolen kisses that still haunted her.
Logan of the Across the River Carletons of whom her father couldn’t speak without risking a coronary. Which, in turn, had given the broodingly handsome Logan an additional forbidden appeal.
An appeal that only grew when they secretly started dating.
He still had it, she thought as she met the eyes she thought held no sway over her anymore. But old emotions flickered deep within her and the six years she’d been gone slipped away as easily as a young girl’s tears.
Six years ago all he’d had to do was send her that crooked smile across the cab of his truck and her heart would do the same slow turn it just had.
Sarah put the brakes on those silly, schoolgirl thoughts. She was older now. Wiser. Harder. She had left Riverbend with tears in her eyes because of this man. Now, after all this time, just seeing him could bring forth feelings she thought she had reconciled into her past.
And then, thankfully, his mouth lifted in a faintly cynical smile negating the connection.
“Sarah Westerveld. So you’ve come back west.” The tone in his voice was cooler than the freezing air.
“Hello, Logan,” she said quietly. In a town as small as Riverbend, this first meeting was inevitable. She just hadn’t counted on it being five minutes after her arrival.
“You remembered who I am.” He lifted one eyebrow in a mocking gesture. “I’m surprised.”
His tone cut. But life and time away from Riverbend had changed her. She wasn’t the girl who longed for his
approval. Needed his smile.
“I was sorry to hear about your father’s death.” She had stayed in touch with her friends and family here, so she knew.
Logan’s eyes narrowed and for a moment she thought she had crossed an unseen line.
“Me, too,” he growled. “He had a hard life.”
“That he did.” And Sarah knew part of the blame for that difficulty could be laid at her father’s door.
Nine years ago, Jack Carleton had been falsely accused of murdering his business partner. The lengthy trial had scandalized the community and, even though Jack had been exonerated, the verdict hadn’t stopped Frank, Sarah’s father, from canceling his gravel-crushing contract with Jack. This in turn created the animosity between Frank and Jack that Sarah grew up with but couldn’t completely understand.
“I heard you took over your father’s gravel business,” Sarah continued, determined to act as if meeting Logan was no different than meeting any other high school acquaintance. She had a hard time looking at him, so she focused on the top button of his jacket. “How is that going for you?”
Logan gave a short laugh. “It’s going to be better.”
Sarah couldn’t stop her attention from flying upward at the harsh tone of his voice.
“So how long are you around for this time?” he continued.
“I’m here to visit my father. That’s all.”
“That’s all? I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” He held her gaze a heartbeat longer, then stepped past her and walked away.
Just as she had walked away from him six years ago.
As Sarah watched him, his hands tucked in the pocket of his canvas coat, his whole demeanor one of a man in charge of his world, she felt her heart twist with pain. Logan had always had a strong self-confidence, which had served him well amid the whispers and innuendos during his father’s trial.
It was that self-assurance to which Sarah had been drawn. Unfortunately, Sarah had not possessed the same confidence while they were dating; she had insisted they keep their relationship secret. And they had. For the entire eight months. And then her father, who had never disguised his active dislike for the Carleton family, found out.
Sarah pushed open the door to the shop, shivering in the warmth and letting the welcoming scent of ground coffee beans draw her back to the present. She wasn’t here to reminisce over old flames. She had a job to do, plain and simple.
As the door sighed closed behind her, she drew in a slow breath, willing her heart to stop its erratic beating.
“Sarah. You’re here!” A high-pitched squeal pierced the low murmur of the customers in the coffee bar.
Janie Corbett threaded her way through the people perched at high stools and tables, her arms outstretched, her Westerveld blue eyes wide with excitement. With great relief, Sarah walked into her cousin’s embrace, letting Janie’s arms pull her tightly close.
Janie patted Sarah’s cheeks, her smile threatening to split her face. “Look at you. All grown-up and even skinnier than ever. And I love the longer hairstyle,” Janie said, flicking her fingers through Sarah’s shoulder-length curls. “Looks elegant. Refined.”
“Well, I’m not. Refined or elegant, that is.”
“Not the way you play basketball.” Janie adjusted the bandanna holding her own pale blond hair back from her face. “I heard that Uncle Morris and Ethan saw you in action in Calgary, at some university competition.”
Sarah remembered and smiled. Seeing her uncle and cousin’s familiar faces after the game had been a bright spot in her life. “That wasn’t my best game.”
Sarah followed Janie to the counter, glancing around the shop as she did. She saw a few familiar faces but could tell from the slightly puzzled frowns sent her way that her own face wasn’t ringing any bells.
“They were still pretty impressed,” Janie said, pulling out a large mug. She gave Sarah a quick smile. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I am, too.” Sarah released a gentle sigh as she perched on an empty stool. She folded her arms on the granite countertop as she took in the bright and cheery decor. “This looks great, Janie. You did a fantastic job.”
“Well, Aunty Dot helped me with the design and Uncle Dan and Uncle Morris rounded up all the cousins to do the heavy work.”
Sarah glanced up above the coffee machines to the chalkboard filled with pink-and-green swirling script describing the menu for the day. “And the good people of Riverbend are really ready for espressos, cappuccinos and flavored macchiatos?”
“Honey, they are lapping it up.”
“From cups I would hope.”
Janie gave her a blank look, then laughed. “Very funny.”
“You walked right into it.” Sarah smiled and glanced at her watch while her stomach did another flip. Twenty-nine minutes left.
“You want something now, or do you want to wait for your dad?”
“I’ll have a hot chocolate.”
“And when are you coming over?”
“When I’m done here.”
“Your dad wasn’t really impressed with the fact that you’re staying with me, but I told him that I wasn’t going to get involved.” With a hiss of compressed air and quick, practiced movements, Janie layered thick whipping cream on top of the steaming cup of hot chocolate and carried it around the counter. “Let’s sit by the window.”
She waved away the cash Sarah pulled out of her purse. “On the house. Consider it a temptation to stay longer.”
“I hope you don’t do this for all the Westervelds,” Sarah said as she settled in at the table Janie led her to.
“I’d be broke if I did that.”
Sarah angled her cousin a quick smile then scooped up a dollop of whipped cream and popped it into her mouth with a sigh of satisfaction. Fat. The main ingredient in all good comfort food. Bring it on.
“So. Three weeks.” Janie leaned her elbows on the table. “What ever made you decide on that puny length of time?”
“It’s longer than the two weeks I had originally planned.” Sarah knew this conversation was a trial run for the many she suspected she would have with other family.
“I guess we were hoping we could convince you to stay longer, but my mom said you’ve got your escape ticket booked.” Janie gave her a penetrating look, as if trying to push past the defenses Sarah hastily erected.
“What? A girl can’t go traveling?”
“You’ve definitely got the family in a dither. We’re all trying to figure out why, after being gone so long after finishing school and graduating, you’re only here awhile.” The hurt in Janie’s voice teased out memories. Sarah had grown up with cousins and aunts and uncles all of whom had staked the claim of heredity on her life. Though she owed them collectively more than she could ever repay, she had hoped her current stay would cover some of the emotional debt. But to the Westervelds, if you didn’t live within twenty minutes of Riverbend, you were “away” and if you were “away” you had better make sure that you made the pilgrimage at least for Easter, Christmas or Thanksgiving.
But in spite of the pull of some family’s heredity and expectations, Sarah had stayed away, and her father had never extended any kind of invitation.
Until now.
“And what’s with this, not sticking around until Christmas?” Janie pressed.
“Christmas is not my favorite season.” This was her catchall comment when people back at the college would ask every year if she was going home for the holidays. Most people accepted that at face value and didn’t pry. But here in Riverbend, people didn’t have to pry. Most of them knew.
“I’m sorry.” Janie’s teasing look slipped off her face to be replaced by sorrow. “It’s been six years since Marilee died, hasn’t it?”
“Six years on the twenty-third of December.” Sarah s
wallowed down an unexpected knot of pain she thought had eased away.
“You know we all lost something that day,” Janie said, reaching over and covering Sarah’s hand with her own. “I just wish you could have let us help you through it all. You left so soon afterward. I’m sure your father missed you.”
And Sarah was sure he didn’t. Other than a terse phone call once a year on her birthday, she had instigated every connection between them. Every phone call, every letter. She had spent her whole life trying to please her father and in the end, her slavish devotion had turned out to be like pouring light into a black hole. She could never give enough to fill it.
Because Sarah was not Marilee, and Marilee was not here.
“Well, I’m here now.”
“I guess we were all hoping you’d want to spend some time here. I mean, it’s like you’ve wiped away all our years of family and visiting and holidays.” Janie waved her hand, the casual gesture underlining the hurt in her words. “And then you only come back for three weeks.”
“C’mon Janie,” Sarah protested. “I wrote you every week, posted on your blog, checked out the cousins’ MySpace sites, phoned...”
“A face-to-face visit would have been nice.”
“I know.” But a face-to-face visit would have meant seeing her father again, something she had avoided ever since that horrible confrontation after Marilee’s funeral.
Even coming here had been fraught with second thoughts and fears that she was simply slipping back into the role of the good daughter.
She had worked so hard to get where she was. After a couple of lost years of dithering, she had settled on an education degree. Now that she had graduated, she had a job waiting for her in Toronto, teaching at an all-girl’s school, a prestigious coup. She looked forward to applying all the things she had learned. But first, this trip she and her friends had planned since they first met two years ago—six months backpacking through Europe.
A Family-Style Christmas and Yuletide Homecoming Page 18
