Louise waved her hand. “I’m sorry, Claire; forgive me. But, you see, Garret called me a week or so ago. He told me all about how this beautiful artist appeared on his porch in the middle of a blizzard one day. At first he made it sound like it was only Anna who’d been so taken in by you, but I could tell right away that his heart was involved. But then he said that he noticed you were wearing a wedding ring and so, he figured, erroneously as it turns out, that that was that. Then just a couple days later, Lucy, you know, down at the store, straightened him out on that account. And then he and Anna made that special trip just to see you at your opening. And, well, my poor brother’s been wracking his brain trying to figure out a way to get together with you ever since.”
“Really?”
Louise nodded with girlish enthusiasm. “Just don’t say you heard it from me.” She glanced out the window toward the driveway. “And one more thing before they get back: Garret’s wife died of cancer about six years ago. It was very unexpected and tragic. He’s never really had a serious relationship since then.”
Claire swallowed. “Thanks for telling me all this.”
“Well, I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I don’t want you running back off to the city prematurely either.”
Claire smiled. “I guess maybe I could stick around a bit longer.”
Louise squeezed her hand. “Good.”
“Can I give you a hand with anything?” Claire glanced around the room, longing for something to do, something to keep her busy and distract her thoughts. “I heard you’re a whiz in the kitchen, but I’d love to help.”
“Sure, why don’t you make the salad?”
Claire focused all her attention on cleaning and cutting and prettily arranging the salad ingredients into the big wooden bowl, and by the time she heard the front door opening, she thought maybe she could handle this. Just maybe.
Anna shrieked when she walked in the front door, causing both Louise and Claire to drop what they were doing and dash out of the kitchen just in time to see the girl staring at the painting that was now propped on a chair.
“Is this it?” Anna cried. “Claire, did you really bring this for me?”
Claire nodded. “I thought you should have it.”
Anna shook her head. “I cannot believe it. This is so cool!”
“Are you sure about this?” asked Garret, his eyes concerned. “This is a very valuable—”
“I want her to have it.” Claire folded her arms across her chest in what she hoped appeared to be a convincing posture but was merely an attempt to conceal her now trembling hands.
“It’s very generous.” Garret turned to Doug. “Come here, you’ve got to see this.” Then he began telling Doug about Claire’s showing in the city. Claire felt certain she could hear the pride in Garret’s voice, and she turned away, hiding her pleased smile. The two men stood with Anna, admiring the painting.
Louise and Claire had barely returned to their final preparations in the kitchen before the elderly Hendersons arrived, and suddenly the little cabin was overflowing with laughter and voices. If the couple felt surprised to discover an unexpected guest, they didn’t show it. Before long Claire felt almost like part of the family. She laughed as young Hayden galloped through the kitchen, chasing after Michael, who was having the time of his life.
Claire was beginning to feel more relaxed now, and lunch went relatively smoothly. The interesting mix of people and ages kept the conversation hopping from one topic to the next—a great relief to Claire since she already felt like she’d hopped onto a roller coaster today. She kept herself from looking at Garret too often, afraid that others at the table might notice and wonder, or that she might make him feel uncomfortable. But she did sneak an occasional quick peek, at the same time wanting to pinch herself, wondering if all that Louise had told her could possibly be true.
Finally, she felt it was time for her to leave. “Thanks so much,” she said, getting up from the table. “It was so nice to meet everyone, and lunch was delicious. I’m glad Anna talked me into it. But I really should hit the road—”
“You’re not thinking about going back to the city today, are you?” Louise’s question sounded innocent enough, but Claire could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was up to something. “You don’t really want to be making that long trip back to San Francisco on Christmas Eve, do you?”
“Well, I—”
“We’re all going out to cut a tree this afternoon,” Louise continued. “Can’t you stay a little longer and go with us?”
“Oh, please,” begged Anna. “Come get a tree with us, please?”
“It’s quite an experience,” said Garret. “Tree hunting with the Hendersons. Why, it might even inspire you to paint something . . . comical.”
She smiled. “Well, I suppose I could stay a little longer.” She glanced over to Michael who was now stretched contentedly by the fire. “And I know my dog’s not all that eager to get back to the city.” She laughed. “In fact, if I didn’t know better, I might think he actually planned this whole thing by getting himself lost today.”
“God does work in mysterious ways.” Louise grinned.
“I better go back to the cabin first.” Claire thought for a moment. “I need to change into hiking clothes, and if I’m staying the night, I’ll need to get the fire going again—it’s my only source of heat there.”
Anna’s eyes were bright. “Then you’ll come back and join us?”
Claire smiled. “I guess so.”
Garret walked her out to the driveway. “I’m glad you’re going to stick around, Claire.” He opened her door for her. “I was a little worried earlier. I mean you didn’t seem all that glad to see us up at the store. I thought maybe I’d done something to offend you.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. I was just feeling a little rattled, I guess. You know, being in a hurry and losing Michael and all.” She had no intention of telling him that she’d been upset because she’d assumed Louise was his wife.
“I’d really been hoping—actually praying even—for the chance to get better acquainted with you. It’s occurred to me more than once how I might’ve come across as, well, a little unfriendly that day you were here at the cabin.”
She shrugged. “Oh, I just figured you were absorbed with your writing. I know how it goes; I can be like that with my art sometimes.”
“That wasn’t really it though.” He looked down at her left hand, then exhaled slowly as if he were about to say something he was unsure of. “I—I noticed you wear a wedding ring. . . .”
She looked down at her ring, watched as the diamond glistened in the sun. Why hadn’t she removed it yet, tucked it safely away, before she returned to the mountains? Was it simply because she’d been in such a hurry, or was it something else? She looked back at Garret.
“Lucy told me that you’d lost your husband and son.” He squinted up toward the sky now, pausing uncomfortably. “And I suppose it’s possible, maybe even likely, that you’re not really ready for—” He stopped himself, running his hand through his hair nervously. Then he shook his head and sighed, as if it were hopeless.
She attempted a weak smile. “It’s okay, I think I understand.” She looked into his eyes now. “I’m glad that Lucy told you about it. It’s true, my husband and son were drowned—it was a boating accident—about eighteen months ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s been a long hard process for me, getting through the loss, I mean. But coming up here to the mountains was a real breakthrough. And I honestly think I’ve finally let them go.” She looked down at her ring. “I’m so used to wearing this that I didn’t even think to take it off. I guess I should.”
“I know how you feel. Despite what people tell you, it’s never easy to move on. But I do think it gets better with time.”
“Yeah, and I feel like I’ve had some good help along the way.”
He nodded. “We can’t do it without help.”
She studied h
im carefully, then surprised herself by her next question. “Do you believe in angels, Garret?”
The corners of his lips curved up just slightly. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”
She sighed. “Good.”
“So, you’re going to stick around then? I haven’t completely scared you off?”
She smiled. “I don’t really scare that easily.” Then she remembered something. “You know, I’d been thinking if I stayed here and was alone for Christmas, I was going to invite Lucy over—she’s alone for the holidays and—”
“Of course, she can come spend the holidays with all of us!” exclaimed Garret. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. She and Mom are old friends.”
And so it was settled.
Claire spent most of her time during the holidays with the Hendersons. They included both her and Lucy in almost everything, doing all they could to make them both feel completely at home—like one of them—part of the family. It was a Christmas Claire would never forget.
The day after Christmas, Anna and Garret invited her to take a walk with them. She had expressed curiosity about their walking route, not mentioning how it had coincided with her own and perhaps even initiated this whole amazing turn of events right from the beginning. They started out from the Henderson cabin and followed a trail that cut through a thickly wooded area and emerged right along the other side of the dead tree—now she could easily see how the two paths converged. Anna and Michael happily led the way with Claire and Garret lagging just slightly behind. As they came to the bridge, Claire told Garret the meaning of the footprints in the snow. She explained how she’d been haunted by them at first, inspired by them later, and finally how she was driven to follow them in an effort to put her mind at peace. She told him of her frenzied chase through the blinding snowstorm and how she still had no earthly idea how she’d ever made it safely to his cabin.
“Incredible.” He shook his head in amazement.
“I know. It’s almost unbelievable.”
“But did you say that you actually saw our footprints on that day?” he asked, an odd expression on his face. “The day you got lost and wound up on our porch?”
“Yes. They were nice and clear to start out with. You know how we’d just had a few inches of fresh snow the night before? So, in the beginning the footprints were quite easy to follow, until it started snowing, that is.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her, intently studying her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. “But, Claire,” he said slowly. “We didn’t take a walk that day. In fact, Anna had been rather upset with me because we hadn’t gone out for a walk for several days—I’d been too absorbed in my writing.”
“But they were there.” Claire stared up into his eyes, unsure as to why he would question her on something like this. “Honest, the footprints were there. I’m not making this up!”
He nodded. “Oh, I believe you.”
“But you said you two hadn’t walked—”
“That’s right. We hadn’t. But I have no doubt that you saw footprints that day. They just didn’t belong to Anna and me.”
She considered his words for a moment. “Are you saying . . . ?”
He pushed a stray curl from her eyes and smiled. “I already told you, Claire, I really do believe in angels.”
Melody Carlson is the prolific author of over 70 books of fiction, non-fiction, and gift books for adults, young adults, and children. Her most recent novel is Blood Sisters (Harvest House 2001), and she is currently on top for writing The Prayer of Jabez for Kids with Bruce Wilkinson for Tommy Nelson. Her writing has won several Rita awards, including a Gold Medallion for King of the Stable (Crossway 1998) and a Romance Writers of America Rita award for Homeward (Multnomah 1997). She lives with her husband in Sisters, Oregon.
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