by LoRee Peery
Blythe loved his answers. Kids? Her ex never mentioned having children. Not once.
A secret message passed between Hayley and Kameron, as though she’d asked him a question. He gave the slightest of head nods and then reached over to graze her cheek with the back of his hand.
The intimacy in that simple touch made Blythe envious.
Hayley’s smile was at the opposite spectrum. She clasped Kameron’s hand to her chest and beamed at Blythe. “We’re pregnant.”
Blythe moved so fast she knocked over her sparkling coconut water.
Werner caught it before the glass could shatter.
She didn’t care. Her arms were full of her best friend.
~*~
Werner hadn’t seen anything more beautiful than these two lovely ladies wrapped in one another’s arms.
Kameron cupped Werner’s shoulder. “I love that golden-haired woman more every day. Sometimes all the emotion threatens to get the best of me.”
Werner twisted and shook his new friend’s hand. “Congratulations. This makes a pretty special Christmas for you two.”
“That’s two Christmases in a row. Next year, I guess it’ll be three because we’ll be celebrating as a family of three. God is so good sometimes I feel unworthy.”
“Since the dogs are snug in their beds, and we’re already on our feet, it’s a good time to say good night. Thanks for a terrific meal and great company.” Werner reached for Blythe’s coat.
Tears gathered on her lower lashes.
Werner raised a thumb and swiped away the moisture before it dropped. He smoothed Blythe’s coat up to her neck, lifted her shiny hair clear of the collar, and wanted to linger over the softness.
Blythe reached out to hug Hayley again.
Kameron gave Blythe an indulgent pat on the back and went to open the door.
Snow still fell, only it held more moisture and the flakes flurried in the wind.
Werner put up his collar, unrolled his hood, and slid on his gloves.
“Listen to that.” Blythe spoke for the first time a block from the parsonage. “It’s so cold the snow crunches beneath our feet.”
“But look.” He pointed toward the streetlight. “It also glistens.”
“Silvery crystals.” She laughed. “Who needs Christmas decorations when God provides the show?”
Finally. He drew her to a stop so he could look into her face. “You need to do that more often. You are breathtakingly beautiful when you smile, sweet Blythe.”
She raised a brow and shrugged. “I don’t know about the beauty part. But I do feel much better, more like myself. Who couldn’t be blissful after the news that my best friend will be a mother next year?”
He tapped her pink nose and took her gloved hand again. They didn’t speak as they meandered to the Travis home. At the door, he released her to dig for the house key. He hesitated before unlocking the door. “Were you planning to use the trail in the morning? I sure won’t be riding my bike in this snow. But I’d love to take a walk with you. We can look for cardinals.”
She chortled. “How come they don’t show themselves for me?”
“Be patient. All in God’s time.” He opened the door.
Her phone sounded a text alert as she stepped across the threshold. Blythe toed off her boots before she pulled out her phone. She looked at the read-out. “Work.”
“Couldn’t they wait for daylight to tell you if you’re heading out to Belize or a secret Hawaiian beach?”
A thud sounded from the kitchen.
Ross wasn’t in his chair.
A light switched on in the hall.
“Dad!” Blythe took off at a run.
Werner dropped his coat on the way. He skidded to a halt at the sight of Ross standing upright in the freezer’s light.
“Everything’s all right. I didn’t want to bother Bette Jean for the ice pack. She does enough. I knocked a frozen ham on the floor. It just missed my toes.”
Blythe positioned the walker straight in front of her dad and took the gel packs from him. “I’ll fit these in the sleeve. No worries, Mom. He didn’t want to ask you.”
“Mr. Independence.” Bette Jean ran a soothing hand across Ross’s back on her way to the counter. “Looks as though it’s time for a pain pill.”
“Just as well,” Ross mumbled. “I’ll be more than glad to get these staples out tomorrow.”
Werner baby-stepped to the recliner with his boss and moved the walker to the side while Ross grimaced as he sat. “I better pick up my coat. No one needs to trip over that.”
Blythe positioned the ice pack, lovingly covered her father with a blanket, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.
“Thanks, honey. Did I hear your phone?”
“No biggie. A message to call in the morning.”
“We still need you to cover the office. I hate to ask friends to drive me to therapy.”
“God will work it out, Dad.” Blythe moved toward the stairs and hesitated in the upstairs hall. “Is there a reason you couldn’t write a little letter and explain what happened way back when? Or, surely your parents could have let you call me? I thought we were good friends. I would have loved to have written you back.”
“As I said, it was as big a surprise for me as it was for you. At first, Mom and Dad were secretive and didn’t answer my questions. I didn’t understand why we’d moved. Finally, about a year and a half later, Dad told me.” He stared at the ceiling, as if something up there contained all the hurt Blythe expressed.
“Didn’t they get how important friendships are? With Hayley and her mother off gallivanting, I had no one. I wasn’t about to hang out in the greasy garage with Dad and Mom. The old place was nothing like the new one, you know.”
“I was there a time or two. Anyway, as crazy as it sounds, some wackadoodle old girlfriend of Dad’s was stalking him. She even got a job where he worked.”
“That plant in Havelock?”
“Right. I guess Mom was scared. The woman was mental.”
The depth of emotion in her eyes punched him straight to the core. “Couldn’t the police do anything?”
“Guess not. No crime had been committed.”
“I’d like to think times are different now.”
“They sure are. This is the only place that’s ever felt like home. I have no plans to leave.” Lord, please keep Blythe here. I think I need her here as much as her folks do.
She’d wrangled her way under his skin. What if she was called to take off for a resort in warm climes? The thought of her leaving soon froze the blood in his veins.
6
Saturday morning, Werner talked Blythe into hitting the trail early. “Let’s be the first humans to make tracks in the snow. Bet I can identify more animal tracks than you.”
“You’re on, Mr. Wright.”
He reached for her hand the instant they stepped into a hushed world covered in white. A minute later all he heard was their labored breaths. “I kind of forgot it takes more effort to walk in snow.”
She only grunted in response.
Soft mounds lingered on branches and dried undergrowth, disturbed only by intermittent early birds landing for a nanosecond before they took off again.
Blythe and Werner stomped the equivalent of two football fields.
He squeezed her hand. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“I was thinking how sweet it was to see Hayley so happy with Kameron.”
“They’re good together.” He lifted her hand, pulled her in closer beside him, and tipped back his head. “I love this place. The country so close to the city. The simplicity of this small town appeals to me. It’s refreshingly quiet compared to where I worked in Seattle.”
“It sure is laid-back and quaint compared to my jet-set lifestyle in Atlanta.”
“Have you really traveled around the world?”
“Where it’s safe. I not only go out of the States, but Eiseley has a resort near Gulf Shores. I’m usually there on a monthly
basis.”
“That text from work, what was it about, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“A coworker. Keeping me posted on corporate. Rumor has it there won’t be year-end bonuses. Some billion-dollar conglomerate has offered to buy out Eiseley.”
“That’s unsettling. Will your job be in trouble, whatever it is you do, especially since you’re not there right now?”
The vapor of her huffed breath disappeared on the cold air. “Mom and Dad still don’t know what I do. Basically, I visit a resort and take stock as though I’m a customer at first. I have a knack for zeroing in on any areas that can use improvement. Once I’ve been there twenty-four hours, I meet the manager and we discuss how to work things in the most efficient manner.”
“So you’re a determiner and fixer of what can go wrong in resorts.”
She swung their hands and marched on through the snow. “I have to admit not being there with my thumb on the pulse of the business is getting to me. I’m still needed here to help run the auto shop while Dad recuperates. But I’m torn because I’m not at my desk in Atlanta seeing how things are for myself.”
“If I can tell anything about you, you’ll deal with it upon your return, and you’ll be strong enough to face what’s ahead.”
“I’m not one to sit back and watch. If I have to, I’ll make something happen.”
“We’re opposite from the perspective.”
“What do you mean?”
“I believe what will be, will be. Why sweat it? God will work it all out.”
“I don’t see how you can look at things that way.” She halted to stare at him. “You lost your job, right? Were you scared?”
“No. I prayed. Then I saw your dad’s ad for help. I took it as a sign I was meant to return here.”
“But what happens next for you? You’re working for Dad temporarily. If I know him, he’ll be putting in ten-hour days again in a couple weeks.”
“I’m not worried. The Lord has tomorrow.”
“We’re different in how we look at things then. I’m already nervous. Eiseley is probably done. Corporate business is similar to small businesses that way. Here today and gone tomorrow.” She folded her hands, scowled, and looked off in the near distance. “Do I start putting out feelers now? I’m a planner. I need to know what’s around the bend.”
How to wipe the worry off her brow? He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You’re much too pretty to mar your face with wrinkles like a piece of corrugated cardboard. Let’s walk to the next mile, unless you’re cold. If we don’t talk we might see birds.”
She nodded.
A crow cawed.
He snorted.
She held up a hand and whispered, “Listen.”
He slid his stocking cap off his ear. “What’s that rumble?”
“Would you believe a train along Highway Six?”
“Seriously? That must be ten miles away. I don’t remember hearing them as a kid.”
“That’s because you lived here in spring and summer. There’s something about the air pressure in winter. Or the way sound travels when the earth is blanketed in snow.”
They remained still while the train’s horn disappeared on distant morning air.
He took her hand again. The snow cushioned their steps. He saw a familiar slash of red swoop in from the south side of the trail. In seconds, five pairs of cardinals sprinkled an ash tree ahead. Most of them landed on separate branches, but one pair lit side by side ten feet in the air. They nuzzled one another around their dipping heads and clicking beaks.
“Oh, look at that.” Blythe squealed. “They’re kissing.”
All ten birds took flight.
He chuckled. “They are a skittish species.”
Blythe stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “That was delightful. Maybe they should be named lovebirds rather than cardinals.”
He couldn’t help himself. He hugged her then rested his chin on top of her stocking-capped head. “I call that a God moment. I want to pray. Dear heavenly Father, thank You for placing us here in this place where you care for beautiful cardinals. Thank You for the reminder each time I see a red bird, especially against the snow, that though my sins be scarlet, You have washed me clean. Thank You, Jesus, for shedding Your blood for us. Especially since we are so unworthy.” He paused.
She remained fitted against his chest.
“And Lord, ease Blythe’s uncertainty. Please help her realize that You have all her tomorrows, and everything will work out. To Your glory, amen.”
She gave him a squeeze and tipped up her chin to meet his gaze. “Thank you for that, Werner. We live in a hurtful world. God in His goodness always gives us hope. I’ve forgotten about life as a country girl, where God shows Himself to us through the birds or nature He created for our enjoyment.”
His heart wanted to spill out with praise.
Had Blythe opened her heart to resting in the Lord? Had she opened her heart to accept Werner’s love?
~*~
Boxes and totes without lids rested on every seat in the great room except Dad’s recliner. How he snoozed with all the noise Blythe and her mother made was a mystery. They worked comfortably together and every once in a while, hummed along with the carols sounding from the stereo. The tactile task of Christmas decorating, late as it was, her mother bemoaned, freed Blythe’s mind to go every which way.
Number one, her attraction for Werner. He was taking up way too much of her mental activity. Their time on the trail. How automatic it was to hold hands. They seemed linked together most where the old railroad tracks once joined small towns.
Mom had asked him to carry the five pole pine trees from basement storage. Four unopened boxes rested against the iron basement rails. His head appeared as he carried up the tallest, which was seven-feet and would end up near the hearth.
He grinned as he met Blythe’s gaze and tossed a wayward curl from his brow. “I’m still disappointed we didn’t go out and find a live one.”
What did a live Christmas tree represent to him? Stability? Everything about his life was on hold, temporary, even.
Except his faith.
“Show me where you want this, and then I’m ready for refreshment.”
Mom answered from where she arranged a nativity scene. “In line with the others. We’ll unwrap them here and you can put the boxes back in storage. Tomorrow, if you’re tired of the stairs.”
Blythe pecked him on the cheek on her way to the kitchen. “Hot chocolate or coffee?”
Mom snapped the lid on a tote. “Could you put on water for me, please? I’ll have tea since I’m fighting the clothes dryer. It’s shrunk every pair of pants I own.”
The three of them laughed.
“You’re just right, Mrs. Travis.” Werner had the second tree, this one a five-footer, out of its box in one swoop.
Mom swatted at Werner with flimsy plastic packing that flopped in the air. “Call me Bette Jean, mister.”
He extended a hand to encompass the space where they stood in the great room. “In all seriousness, I’ll never forget how you’ve welcomed me into your family, your business, and your home. You make me feel part of something. This is my first Christmas without my parents. I don’t have the words to say how I appreciate all of you.”
Blythe wrapped her fingers around the heart dangling above her breastbone. Their gazes met and communed. She broke eye contact first and glanced from Mom to Dad, where he stirred in the recliner. She’d spent way too many Christmases away from her parents. It was past time she soaked in the moments with them now. And Werner. She could get used to having him around, and she’d examine that realization later.
Dad grunted and repositioned his leg. “You fit right in, son. Glad to have you here. Never think you’re imposing.”
Werner came to her side. “I’ll get the mugs. Ross, what would you like to drink?”
“Coffee. Black. It’s time to ice my knee as well. But I’ll take a jaunt with my trusty wal
ker and get it myself.”
Mom hustled to his side. “Just in case you need me.”
“I’ll always need you, darlin’.” He didn’t take a step until they’d kissed.
Werner cleared his throat and nudged Blythe with his shoulder. “This homey kitchen reminds me of the country house we rented near here.”
“I never saw it. Mom was ahead of the times with her farmhouse look.”
Mom hustled to the freezer and grabbed the gel packs. “Too crowded in here for the walker. I don’t know if they had mossy green, distressed cream, and worn golden oak where you lived, Werner. But I wanted soft color because I grew tired of dark tones in the home we had when Blythe was younger.”
Blythe returned to the living room, relaxed against the “Silent Night” pillow in the corner of the leather couch, and lifted her legs for a moment of comfort.
Dad had refocused on the television.
Mom kept roaming the room behind the seating arrangement, no doubt placing garlands and greenery in her mind’s eye.
Werner’s gaze warmed Blythe as much as the mug between her palms.
She closed her eyes, not quite able to look at him. She might read too much in his heated search. A large part of her wanted to heed the attention he addressed. But this wasn’t her home. Even if by some stretch of the imagination Werner settled in the area, Blythe lived and worked in Atlanta.
“We have breaking news on the big business front.” The TV anchor’s voice intruded on Blythe’s thoughts. “A billionaire conglomerate has taken over Eiseley Resorts International. They plan to take on board a new executive team. The name change will be announced soon, and we’ll pass that on to you.”
Blythe’s eyes popped open. She uncurled her legs, uninterested in the last of her cocoa, and stood. Shaking, she reached for her phone.
Werner touched her arm before she could swipe the number. “I’d say that’s a sign you’re supposed to make a life change. Could it be you’re also home to stay, sweet Blythe Travis?”
