Not by stained hands.
Eden had always made Knox jumpy and nervous, mostly because he didn’t know what to do with a woman like her. Sweet and kind. Funny and smart. Just plain good inside and out. He never knew what to say so he simply kept his distance. Besides, his attraction was visceral. And Nathan had been his best friend. Knox knew where to draw the line, and he knew how to stay on his side.
Now, here he was offering up his bar. His bar! Guess he’d been knocked into the boards one too many times.
Teary eyes and sniffs had done him in. Not to mention, he was curious. Eden had taken more than her share of hard knocks between losing her mom when she was just a kid, her dad’s drinking, then Nathan. Now the church. She was humbly strong. Rose above and organized coat drives and food baskets for the needy, when she was about to lose her home and become needy herself.
Eden Snow was a bona fide saint and always had been. He admired her and resented her, and on occasion had been so jealous of Nathan for having a woman like her it drove him nuts.
Not that Knox was good enough for her, he wasn’t. He was weak, and all that righteous-like hope and joy shimmering in her eyes weakened him more.
“Rules?” Eden snapped her fingers in front of Knox’s face.
“Right.” He cleared his throat and moved his peppermint stick to the other side of his mouth. One thing he regretted. Smoking. He’d been done with cancer sticks for almost a year, but the feeling of always having something lodged in his windpipe and the need to have something in his mouth wouldn’t leave him. “No tracts. No Bible thumping. And no hounding me or my people to come to services.”
Eden’s lush mouth twitched. “Fine.”
“Sunday services only, right?”
“We’ll need to practice on Thursday nights.” She clasped her hands and mesmerized him with a hopeful stare.
“That’s ladies’ night.” He groaned.
“Well, do ladies play pool and air hockey?” She turned her nose up. Was it the pool or air hockey she found disgusting? He could handle hating pool, but hockey?
He kept a smile in check. “Not ladies only. Reduced drink prices for women.”
“Can’t you close off the back room for two hours? Six to eight?”
Knox crunched into his peppermint. Partying didn’t really start until seven. The woman might as well have a halo glowing above her head. Long thick hair waved over her shoulders, framing that angelic face. “I guess.” He heaved a sigh and rubbed his temple.
Weak.
“And Wednesdays…?” She raised hopeful eyebrows.
“What about them?”
“An hour of Bible study. We can hold the children’s activities somewhere else.”
Her soft voice didn’t mask her point. And he had to agree. A bar wasn’t the best environment for kids. “It’s noisy.”
Eden slipped her hands inside the sleeves of her sweater, clutching the ends. “I could build a sliding door in the archway.”
For a feminine woman—and Eden was all feminine—she had a knack for carpentry. Apple didn’t fall far from the tree. “What will that cost me?”
“Nothing.”
A door wouldn’t be a bad idea. He might hold private parties. “Okay. Wednesdays. But nothing on Friday or Saturday nights.”
Her slender hand poked out from her sweater. “Deal.”
Knox stared at it. What would touching her do to him? She was so…sacred—the only word that would seem to form in his mind. A man like him had no business being in the same air she breathed.
“I don’t have cooties, Knox.” A wide smile showed the results of three years of braces when she was a pre-teen.
He clasped her hand, swallowing it up. Supple for a woman who enjoyed carpentry.
Toeing the hockey bag, he glanced at her. “Your boy likes hockey?”
“Very much. Big fan of the Wolves and the Blackhawks.”
“Smart kid.” His chest swelled. He’d have made it to the majors had Mom not gotten sick. Had his father not walked out when Knox was five. Was the man even still alive?
“Thank you, Knox. This means so much to me. And I know it would mean as much to Nathan if he were here.”
Nathan. Knox missed him more than he missed the ice. And words he’d spoken so many times about God came pouring back into his heart. Words like love. Hope. Peace. But Knox had rejected it even as it had drawn him. He just hadn’t been ready. Didn’t know if he ever would be.
Eden’s eyes glistened. “I know I haven’t always been your favorite person, but I hope we can get along.”
Never been his favorite person? Is that what she thought? His gut knotted. “Sure.” Opening the door, he peered up at the dusty sky and flipped the wool collar on his denim jacket around his ears. “Guess I’ll see ya when I see ya.”
***
“What were you thinking, Eden?” Betsy Davis, Leonard’s wife, glowered as she flailed her wiggly arms. “A bar? We can’t have church in a bar! What will people say and think? We’ll be labeled drunkards.” She smacked her cherry red lips and slung her blinged-out reading glasses from her nose. “A bar! Preposterous.”
Eden searched the small gathering of people in her living room, hoping for some support. Leonard crossed his lanky legs and put his arm around his wife. “Betsy has a point. We have to be careful how we present ourselves to the community. Can’t make our brothers stumble and all. You know the verse.”
Eden perched on the edge of the couch and prayed for patience. “Jesus went in and ate with the drunkards. So much so he was labeled one himself, but it never stopped him from dining with them.”
Surely the new pastor would back her up. He sat on the other end of the couch, listening. Now was the time to say something. Didn’t he have a backbone?
Alma, sitting next to Betsy, set her tea cup on the nicked coffee table. “I see both points. We don’t need to incite gossip, but at the same time those who talk…talk.” She shrugged. “And God knows we aren’t in there carousing around or reveling in debauchery. So I think our consciences can be clear.”
Eden’s insides relaxed. “Thank you, Alma.”
Pastor Gabe inhaled. “I have to agree with Eden. The truth is we might be able to make a difference in the lives of those who frequent the bar, people who try to numb their pain with the bottle and drink away their problems. We have a real solution. Plus, we’re not paying a dime, we have free use of sound equipment and instruments—which we can’t afford to buy or rent—and it seems like Mr. Everhart is rather agreeable to our needs.”
Thank you, Gabe. Eden leaned forward. “The hurting people in the bars aren’t going to waltz through the church doors. We’re going to have to take the church to them. It’s a mission field.” Excitement bubbled in Eden’s chest. “Who knows what God will do? This is the season for miracles, isn’t it? New birth. Good tidings of joy and peace. We could be a Christmas miracle for someone…for many.”
Betsy frowned. “And what about the folks in our congregation who struggle with alcohol or might be tempted?”
“Legitimate question,” Pastor Gabe offered. “As small as our town and congregation is, we know who they are—well you do. We’ll make it a rule to go in the side door, and we take them under our wing and buoy them up.”
Betsy clucked. “What if they go back after?”
“I’ll make time to do extra counseling sessions including prayer and devotions with them. It’s one month, Betsy. One.” Pastor Gabe’s voice while soft was firm.
“Why is Knox Everhart so agreeable? He doesn’t strike me as a something-for-nothing kind of man.” Betsy flashed Eden accusing eyes.
Eden’s cheeks flushed. “He and Nathan were good friends. I think this is for him. And who knows, if he’s willing to allow the church in his place of business, maybe he’ll accept Jesus into his personal life.”
“He’s a ruffian and a hound. Always has been.” Betsy scoffed and nudged Leonard in the ribs.
“Since he was a boy and you know i
t. We nearly locked Leah up one summer when she was seventeen.”
Betsy’s face reddened. “We don’t want him to take advantage of you, hon. That’s all.”
“I know his reputation.” Nathan had been with him when he got in trouble for playing chicken with an eighteen wheeler. “And I appreciate the sentiment, but he’s offered us a free building. So let’s accept his generosity and trust God.”
“Fine, but I don’t like it.” Betsy stood and put her hands on ample hips. “I’ve got an appointment in thirty minutes. But after that, why don’t you let me check into a few other places. The rotary club might let us use their building. Or the library.”
Neither of which could offer drums, keys, and excellent sound equipment. Eden eased off the couch and met Betsy at eye level. “I like the bar.” Something deep within her stirred. This was God. He was up to something. Something good. He had to be.
“I do too.” Gabe sidled up behind Eden, showing a united front. He glanced at the rest of the group which consisted of two elders, a deacon and their wives. “Well?”
“I don’t like it either.” Phil Hartley said and hauled his wife to her feet.
“If it turns into a disaster we’ll back out. I think we should do it. Free is free.” George Stallings and his wife, Delinda, held hands.
“Then the bar it is.” Pastor Gabe touched Eden’s shoulder and squeezed.
Betsy huffed and stormed out, Leonard dogging her heels. He was a decent preacher, but Eden wouldn’t be surprised if Betsy wrote his sermons and forced him to memorize them. Everyone left, leaving Eden alone with Gabe. He brought two cups and saucers to the small kitchen off the living room.
“That went well,” he teased.
Eden grinned and took the cups. “Betsy blows her top, threatens to go to another church, taking her large tithe with her but she never does. Her bark is much worse than her bite. Deep down she loves the Lord and wants to do right. She just struggles with a haughty attitude and a reckless tongue. And Leonard…well…” She shrugged and filled the sink with sudsy dishwater.
Gabe leaned on the counter. His soft brown hair hanging in his chocolate-colored eyes, a tender smile on his clean-shaven face. Handsome. “I think we did the right thing. It felt right. In my heart.”
A cup slipped from Eden’s hand. Nathan so often had said that when he made a decision.
“Eden?”
“I’m fine. Just had a stray thought about Nathan. Startled me.”
“I lost my wife six months after we were married. She drowned on the lake. We’d taken some of the youth group.” He inhaled, let it out slowly. “Felt like we’d been married forever. I miss her, and it’s been over a decade. Just haven’t been able to move forward in that department.”
Eden understood. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you need any help drying?”
“No.” After using the dish towel on her hands, she turned. “I’m good. I have to pick up Eli in an hour from his hockey buddy’s house.”
“I won’t keep you. I’m still getting moved in above the florist shop.”
“Pocketful of Posies. You met Audrey yet? She lives in the second apartment, and she’s my best friend.”
Gabe scrunched his brow. “Blonde. Cats. Really loud laugh.”
Eden giggled. “The one and only.” She walked him to the door.
He bundled into his pea coat and red scarf. “Please, call me if you need anything. I don’t want you to feel like I’m bombarding your space—your memories.”
Eden appreciated the sweet gesture. “You’re the new pastor. I’ve made peace with God, Gabriel. I never expected the place would become a shrine to Nathan. The church needs to grow. To move forward. And so do I.” She opened the door and shivered at the chill. “And maybe you do too.”
“Maybe.” He grinned and stepped out. “I’m from Florida. This weather might do me in before I get the chance.”
She waved. “Just wait a few weeks. We’ll be snowed in!”
“Bite your tongue, Eden Snow.”
She covered a laugh with her hands, then waved again. Time to get Eli, then schedule the coat drop and their first cantata practice.
Ready or not, Penalty Box, here we come.
CHAPTER THREE
“Boy, you’ve gone cuckoo-cachoo. Pour me another gin and tonic.” Dean Waldrip, one of Knox’s regulars, shook his head and clutched his second drink of the night. Three was his limit. “A church in the bar.” He laughed and coughed, then sucked down the rest of his drink. “You sleeping with the widowed girl or something?”
Knox flexed his jaw. “I’m not sleeping with Eden Snow.”
“Then you want to.”
“I do not.” To keep from cussing Dean out, Knox slipped a cigarette-sized peppermint stick from the package under the counter and jammed it into his mouth. The words “widowed girl” scraped his nerves, and Eden wasn’t a notch to add to his bedpost.
“Then them church-goers must have fed you some lines of scripture.” He shook his glass, rattling the ice.
Abundant Life Church had taken up homestead for a week. One Wednesday night Bible study, a Thursday night something-or-other, and a Sunday morning service. He’d heard the singing from his bedroom upstairs. Angelic. Soothing. But not for him.
Some of his patrons had been downright ticked while others didn’t seem to mind, as long as the holier-than-thous left them alone, and so far Eden and her posse of God lovers hadn’t stepped across any bounds.
Coats and food had barreled in, and Knox had to stop what he was doing and lug them to the back room. Not that big of a deal. Who was he to snub cold and hungry people?
“Don’t think the snow’s gonna let up.” Dean signaled another drink.
“Last one, Dean. Hear it’s going to blow all week.” He gave him his third gin and tonic and served a few customers at the stools. Snow wouldn’t keep his regulars away.
Knew them better than his own family. They were family.
The door opened, snow swirled inside with a bitter chill. Eden graced the bar, a white knit cap to match her heavy down coat and a silver-and-white scarf snaked around her neck, her nose as pink as her cheeks and lips. The lady was a sight to behold.
“Coffee?”
She nodded as she slipped off her gloves. “This keeps up and we’ll see snow days. Eli sure hopes so.”
“My grandkids hope so too,” Dean said. “Heard you guys singing last Thursday night. “Silent Night’s” always been one of my favorites. Not a church-goer anymore, but I do like the Christmas Carols.”
Eden plopped down beside Dean. Most of her congregation steered clear of the boozing area, but since the day he’d jabbed her with the ‘not going to hell for sitting down’ statement, she never hesitated to perch on a stool and talk to his congregation. Didn’t preach. Just made casual conversation which seemed to come easily.
“I’m a fan of “O Come All Ye Faithful” and “First Noel” for sure.”
“Me too.” Dean lifted his drink in a toast, and she lifted her coffee cup. “To good Christmas songs.”
“To good Christmas songs.” Her laugh sounded like bells. Soft. Melodious. Hypnotizing. Knox could get used to that.
“More dry goods came in.” Knox pointed toward the doors. “I put them in the back room.”
“Great.” She sipped on her coffee and talked Christmas movies with Dean until her phone rang to the tune of “Deck the Halls” as she finagled it from her coat pocket. Knox tapped the handle of her coffee cup that was almost empty and she nodded. He topped her off.
“Hello?” She bounced off the stool. “I’m on my way.” The rosy color zapped from her cheeks. “Knox, I—I have to go. Eli had an accident at practice. He’s in the ER.” Trembling, she struggled to fit her hat back on.
“You okay to drive?” Knox tossed the white bar towel over his shoulder. Cassie wouldn’t be in for another ten minutes, and leaving the place open without someone to manage it was out of the question.
“Yeah.
He cut his eye playing hockey. Needs stitches.” She blew through the front door. Knox growled and chased her outside. The wind chilled him to the bone, his black Henley no protection from the elements.
“Hey.” He almost touched her. “He’ll be fine. I’ve had my fair share.” He pointed above his brow. “Here.” Pointed to the other side. “Here. Only the tough play hockey. First set of stitches is a rite of passage.” He winked.
The corner of her lip hitched upward as she fumbled with her keys. “Rite of passage, huh? And what pray tell is it called for the anxious mom?”
“The beginning of a lifetime of worry?” He chuckled. “Drive safe.”
“That came with birth.” She grinned, but concern still flared in her eyes. “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll be back in the morning to sort food baskets.” She cranked the engine, and Nathan’s old truck sputtered to life.
Her son was bleeding five miles away, and she had the sense to thank him for coffee. Knox didn’t know another woman like her.
God broke the mold with her.
He’d used scraps for Knox.
***
Eden kissed Eli’s head and cockled his dark curls as he slept. Her hair. Nathan’s eyes—green and bright. Five stitches above his right eye. A bloody nose. Rite of passage turned her stomach, but Eli was growing up and he couldn’t be babied forever. Well, yes he could. However, he did need a decent and upstanding male figure in his life. Too bad Pop couldn’t be it. Now that Pastor Gabe was in town, he might connect with Eli.
She crawled into bed and ran her feet up and down the sheets, creating some warmth. Hugging Nathan’s pillow to her chest, she buried her face. He would have approved of using the bar even though they’d lost a few members of the congregation after dropping the bomb. If leaving the church over taking it outside the charred walls ruffled feathers, then so be it. Bunch of hens anyway. Did a lot of clucking in the hen house but had no idea what was going on outside. And the roosters? All they did was strut around and crow.
At least Pop wasn’t just strutting around—or sleeping off a hangover—he and his crew had been working non-stop since the Monday after Thanksgiving, but it was slow going with the weather.
Hope Under Mistletoe (Seasons of Hope Book 1) Page 2
