Knox poured a bowl of cereal for the boy—eyes as green as Nathan’s had been—but the rest of him was all Eden. One day, chicks would dig that. He was a little guy, though. Nathan had been six foot and slender, and Eden was tall for a woman. Guess the little dude had some growing to do; Knox added some more cereal to the bowl. Peanut Butter Captain Crunch. Protein. He slid the bowl in front of Eli and handed him a spoon.
Knox followed Eli’s gaze to the hockey sticks and his old Wolves jersey hanging over the bar. “Your mom says you like hockey. What position you play?”
“Wing man. I’m okay. But I’d really like to score a goal. I get checked every time.” He sighed then shoveled a bite too big for a little boy into his mouth. Milk dribbled from the corners and down his chin. Chicks wouldn’t dig that.
“Gotta learn to deke.”
“I know, right? Coach Inman keeps saying he’ll work on it with me, but he never does.”
Knox leaned on the bar. “Inman. Young guy?”
Eli shrugged and crunched.
“Landon Inman?”
“Yep,” he said with a full bite.
Knox raised his brow. He was a frequent flyer in The Penalty Box.
“His wife is gonna have a baby. She’s almost the size of a basketball.”
Knox laughed. “That’s what happens when you get knocked up.”
“Knocked what?” Eli held his spoon mid-air.
“Knox!” Cassie threw her hands out and gave him reprimanding eye.
He thought through what he just said. “Oh, nothing. Eat your cereal. Grown up words.”
Eli focused on eating. If Knox were coach, he’d help the boy. Nothing sucked worse than being promised one thing then never seeing the follow-through, especially from an important person. And right now, Coach Inman was a father figure to Eli.
“Wish we had a real tree,” Eli said and slurped the milk from his bowl.
“You need some more?” Knox glanced toward the back room. What was Eden doing in there? Avoiding him?
Eli held his bowl up for more, and Knox poured a generous helping. “We used to have one…till…my dad died. Mom bought a fake one at Walmart after that. Says it’s lighter.” His lips formed a pout, and Knox’s chest ached. So much had changed for Eden, even the kind of tree she put up for Christmas. An artificial tree was a crummy reminder that her husband had died, and now she had to have a dead tree too.
“Have you put yours up yet?”
“Nah, Mom’s been busy with fixing the burnt church and stuff. We’re doing it this weekend though. And she says we can leave it up past New Year’s to make up for not doing it the day after Turkey Day.”
Knox nodded.
“What’s going on in here?” Eden waltzed into the room and dusted her hands on her jeans. Jeans that fit her perfectly.
Cassie clapped her hands together and admired the tree. “Few more ornaments and we’re in business. My place is so small I never have anything over four feet. And I do love the woodsy smell of a live evergreen.”
“Me too,” she murmured. “It’s lovely, Cassie. Great job. Maybe you could help us decorate for the Christmas cantata. You’re a pro.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up over the simple compliment. “You think so? I’ve always wanted to be an interior decorator. I just haven’t had the money to go to school.”
Eden hooked her arm around Cassie’s shoulders. “You have raw talent. Hey, you know what? Would you like to decorate Pop’s business window? I haven’t had time to get my own house decorated let alone the office. When people drive by they’ll see a wonderful display, and we can put a sign up that says, ‘décor by Cassie James’ won’t that be great?”
Cassie squealed. “Seriously, Eden? You’d let me do that?”
“You can go through our decorations and if you need more, I can give you a one-hundred and fifty dollar allowance from petty cash.” She hugged Cassie to her and nodded as if it were a done deal. “And business cards. You should have some made.”
Cassie beamed and pointed at Knox. “I can do more than pour a mean whiskey sour, ya hear?”
Knox grunted. “Yay for being good at girlie. Now I need glasses polished. Because right now you’re a bar maid not a home fashionista.”
“He’s a real Scrooge to work for.” Cassie pinched Eli’s cheek and headed to the kitchen.
“She has dreams, Knox. Nothing wrong with that.” Eden kissed Eli’s head. “Come on, tiger. You get to come to work with me, and then you have hockey practice.”
Knox straightened a few bottles on the bar and made a mental note that he was running low on Jim Beam. “Where do they practice?”
“Pine Lake if Inman shows. Last week, Jennifer had false labor pains and he cancelled.”
“That’s what she gets for getting knocked up. Right, Knox?” Eli grinned, a tooth missing up top.
“Elijah Walter Snow! Where did you hear that?” Eden’s mouth fell open.
Knox saved Eli a trip to the woodshed. “I might have used that term. Sorry.”
Eden sighed. “Knocked up is an ugly way of saying pregnant, Eli. So let’s just say pregnant, okay?”
Eli nodded and slid from the stool. “Can I play air hockey?”
“Five minutes.” Eden turned to Knox. “It’s okay. You’re not around kids much, and I imagine you don’t have to tame your tongue in here.”
Knox clenched his jaw. “No, in here I can be myself. No one who walks through that door gets judged for what he or she wears, does, or says. Believe it or not, this place feels more like home than home to some. We’re a family.”
Eden shook her head. “I wasn’t judging. I was letting you off the hook. You seemed to feel sorry about the slip-up with Eli. I see you weren’t. So…I apologize.” She zipped her coat up. “I have to get to work and oversee repairs at the church. See ya around.”
Knox hadn’t meant to jump down her throat. Judgment from the town was one thing. Judgment from Eden…hurt.
***
The house smelled of cinnamon, vanilla, and pine from her candles. If Eden couldn’t have a real tree, then at least the scent of one would do. Disney’s Christmas station on Pandora rang through the speakers, and artificial branches lay in clumps according to their color coded sticks.
An almost perfect Saturday afternoon.
Eli unrolled the lights and snagged fresh cinnamon-sugar cookies from the counter. “I can’t believe I missed that shot today.”
Poor kid was still beating himself up over practice. Coach Inman had been there, but his mind was elsewhere and the boys had to fend for themselves. Obviously, Eli had talent. It just needed development, and Eden didn’t have the extra money for lessons.
She glanced at the envelope that poked out from her purse. Every second Friday of the month, like clockwork since Nathan died, she’d received $400 in cash postmarked from Chicago. Eden knew who sent it, even if they continued to remain anonymous.
Bradley McDaniels had gotten behind the wheel drunk and killed both himself and Nathan in the crash. His parents had begged her forgiveness, something she couldn’t give at the time. Three weeks after the funeral, the money began. At first, Eden welcomed it. After all, they owed her. It was the least they could do, but as the malignity seeped from her heart and spilled into the lives of those she loved—those still needing her—she threw herself on the mercy of God, and He healed her from the bitterness, the anger, the hatred.
He never answered why Nathan had to die needlessly. But the peace came, even if it had to rest upon a sore heart. Some days hurt more than others. Some days she couldn’t breathe. Lately, she was having less of those days and more days filled with laughter and joy. Eli saw to that.
The last ten months, she hadn’t even spent the money, though she could use it. Didn’t seem fair to keep making them pay for something they didn’t do. And she owed them forgiveness. Showing up at their door to return the money and voice it was another matter. Eden was terrified all the pain and torment and maybe even the bitterness
would resurface, even when God whispered repeatedly for her to do the right thing, she’d ignored it.
Lord, I know keeping the money and not spending it isn’t the same as saying I forgive them, because they don’t even know I’m not using it. I need strength. I’m scared.
The doorbell rang, and Eli bounded over, swinging the door wide open.
“Mom, look who’s here.” Fat snowflakes and frigid wind swirled into the house. How many times had she told Eli not to open the door without seeing who it was first?
Knox hovered on the stoop, uncertainty in his eyes. Eden hadn’t seen him since their misunderstanding—if that’s what it could even be called.
She’d chewed on his comment over and over.
“No, in here I can be myself. No one who walks through that door gets judged for what he or she wears, does or says. Believe it or not, this place feels more like home than home to some. We’re a family.”
Exactly what the church should be.
Had it failed?
“I—I brought you something.” His raspy voice rose over the Christmas music, and his usual scowl and squint had been replaced with what could only be deemed anxiety.
Eden maneuvered through the Christmas mess to the entryway. “You didn’t bake, did you?”
A smirk played on his lips. “No. And I hope I’m not overstepping, but…” He glanced toward the truck. “I—Eli said something the other day and I thought—you know what, just step outside.” He raked his hands through his disastrous thick mane.
Eden followed him to the bed of his truck. Inside laid a huge Christmas fir. Eden’s hand flew to her mouth. “You brought a tree. A living tree.” Lord knew they could stand some life in the house. The smell of a real pine. “What exactly did Eli say?” She wrapped her hands around her waist and inhaled the evergreen beauty.
“I said we used to get a real tree when Daddy was alive but we don’t no more ‘cause you can’t lift one.” Eli skipped outside in sock feet.
“Eli! Get in the house!”
Knox towered over her; the smell of clean-scented aftershave and peppermint teased her nose and sent a tiny flutter into her stomach. What in heaven’s name? She swallowed.
“Are you mad, Eden?” He rubbed his neck and shifted from one foot to the other.
Mad? “No. I’m…grateful. Thank you. It’s thoughtful.” No one else had so much as offered to bring them a tree or help with one. Not even Pop. But the bar owner? He thought. Eden wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“Eli, why don’t you put on some shoes and a coat, and us men can bring it inside.”
Eli whooped and danced himself into the house. Eden supplied him with dry socks, his rubber boots and coat. She watched from the window as he dogged Knox’s heels. A few times Knox laughed and nodded.
Eden puddled. Her boy needed a man in his life, but Knox Everhart wasn’t the role model of choice. Knox wrestled the tree from the back of the truck—his charcoal Carhartt coat fit him snugly, showing off a broad back and shoulders. He may not play hockey these days, but his body hadn’t been told he wasn’t the team’s enforcer anymore.
Eden and Nathan had watched many a game, cheering Knox as he took his role seriously—protecting the team and taking the most penalties. Never afraid to fight. His rowdy mouth and quick temper made him a perfect man for enforcer. Guess that’s why he’d named the bar The Penalty Box. He’d spent a lot of time there.
Knox slid the tree onto a dolly and rolled the ginormous thing to the door. Would it even fit in her tiny living room? “Where do you want it?”
Eden kicked the artificial limbs out of the way and made a path to the corner of the room by the French doors that opened into the woods. “There.” She hurried to the kitchen and put on a kettle of milk for hot chocolate.
Already, the fresh piney scent permeated the house. She blew out the candles and admired the thick branches and wooden stump. “What do I owe you, Knox?”
Knox cut her a perturbed, then an almost crestfallen look. “I wanted to. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Not even a trip upstairs?” she teased.
Knox blew a heavy breath. “I didn’t mean that, Eden.”
Eden grinned. “I know. I’m kidding.”
“Well, don’t because I feel crappy about it.” He rubbed his brow then pulled a peppermint stick from his coat pocket.
“Then stay for a cup of hot chocolate. It’s not toddy, but…” She caught a smile in his eye.
“Okay.”
“And you can help us decorate, can’t he, Mom?” Eli rushed into the living room and practically clung to Knox’s long leg.
“Oh, I don’t know, bud.” Knox rustled Eli’s hair.
One thing Knox never had issues with was loneliness. Likely, he had a woman waiting in the wings. Probably the blonde from the other night.
“I’m sure Knox has plans for a Saturday afternoon.” Eden bit back a touch of green. Jealous? Over floozies making it with Knox Everhart? Good grief, how lonely was she?
“Do you, Knox?” Eli peered up at Knox, hopefulness and excitement brimmed his darling eyes. Knox would let him down. Eden only hoped he’d be gentle about it. Eli’s heart was tender—like hers.
“Well, actually…” He glanced at Eden. “I don’t have anything to do. Cassie’s running the ship tonight but…”
A pent up breath released, and tension ebbed from Eden’s shoulders. Eli didn’t seem to be the only one hopeful that he’d stay. She knew Eli’s reasoning, but her own wasn’t as clear. “Then we’d love for you to join us. If you’re sure.” She owed him for stuffing the Christmas baskets. That sounded good enough—returning a favor.
“Yeah. Why not.” Knox rustled Eli’s hair again and grinned.
Eli hooped and hollered. “But I get to put the star on top.”
CHAPTER SIX
“He’s had a big day. Thank you.” Knox squirmed as he watched Eden nestle on one end of the couch, her sight set lovingly on her son crashed in the faded recliner.
“He has a lot of energy.” Knox shook his head. Boy was a rip-snorter—like Knox had been as a kid. Always curious, rowdy, mischievous.
“Which is why we introduced him to hockey. Skate it all out.” Eden sipped her coffee, traded in after copious amounts of hot chocolate. The tree was decorated with colorful round balls and homemade ornaments. Icicles and candy-canes hung from the branches, and the gold star Eli had secured in place, with Knox’s help, almost touched the ceiling.
Piano Christmas music played softly in the background, only the white lights from the fir and above the mantel lit Eden’s small parsonage.
“He’s a good kid. And I’m sorry about the couple of swear words.” Knox had stepped on a Batman figure, breaking it in half, and then he couldn’t find the one light that had gone out causing all the lights to die off. That’d make the most religious man spout a four-letter word or two.
Eden put her mug on the coffee table. “Apology accepted. He knows words he shouldn’t use.”
Grace. Always dishing it out, making him feel small but in a way that didn’t make him want to stay small. From here on out he was going to tame his tongue if for no other reason than it pleased her, and right now there wasn’t anything Knox wanted more than Eden’s approval.
Eden scooted closer, knocking her purse to the floor. She growled, set her coffee down and scooped up the contents—loose change, lipstick, travel pack of tissue. Knox slid off the couch to help and reached for an envelope. Eden snatched it before he could. Glancing up at him, she grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“Seems important. Private.” He didn’t get a good glimpse, couldn’t tell if it was a bill or letter.
Eden sighed. “It’s money.”
Oh. “You…uh…rob a bank?”
“No. It’s guilt money. I don’t spend it. Long story.”
Guilt was the last thing Knox wanted to chat about so he didn’t mind changing the subject. But why wouldn’t she spend it? The place needed sprucing up, and if
she did the repairs herself it would still take some funds to purchase supplies. Why didn’t the church people do it—pay for it? None of his business.
“So tell me, Knox, why didn’t you go back to hockey after your mother passed away?” Eden set her purse on the coffee table. Settling back on the couch, she drew the flannel blanket resting on the back of the couch around her. “Did you tire of it?”
A day didn’t go by he didn’t itch to play, but the bar had done something hockey hadn’t. It gave him a place of his own. Hockey was a career, not a home.
“No,” he said as he shifted on his end of the couch.
“A man of many words.” Eden snickered, the Christmas lights dancing in her eyes.
Explaining his need for family and love no matter what wasn’t easy. In fact, it was pretty embarrassing. Dudes shouldn’t need that. How did one explain his worthlessness—his own father hadn’t thought enough about him to stick around, or to take him when he left. Never called, wrote or visited. Nothing.
Knox had never been good enough. Not for family. Not for Nathan, who’d taken pity on him—and he’d let the poor fool. And certainly not good enough for the girl who could light a room by entering, and bring a soul to its knees with a simple smile which is what Eden had been doing to him since he was fourteen.
But Nathan had captured her attention. Knox had captured her disinterest and disapproval. How many times had Nathan snuck out to joy ride with the statement: “Don’t let Eden know. She thinks you’re a bad influence on me.” It was better this way. He’d have broken her had she given him the chance. Like a kid enamored with a butterfly, grabbing the wings too harshly and inhibiting it from ever flying again.
With a twitch of amusement on her lips, Eden drew her knees up to her chin and studied him.
“What?”
“Proving my point. You’ve been sitting there for almost five minutes lost in thought. Man of few words.”
“I should probably go. I’m not big on conversation. Makes me less than stellar company.” He stood, his right knee popped. Still gave him fits at times.
Hope Under Mistletoe (Seasons of Hope Book 1) Page 4
