Stranded for the Holidays
Page 14
He pounded his fist on the door, setting the wreath a-quiver. “I’m not going anywhere until you open this door, Aunt IdaLee. I want to talk to you.”
There was a shuffling sound on the other side before IdaLee threw open the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t get your spurs in a twist. I don’t move as fast as I used to, you know.”
Rocking on his heels, he glowered at his great-aunt.
“What has you in such a dither, nephew?” Smirking, she patted her snow-white hair. “Or should I ask, who?”
“Don’t play innocent with me, Aunt IdaLee.”
She gave him that teacher look she’d used to her advantage for decades. “What, pray tell, are you accusing me of now?”
“You know what you did. You and your partners in crime are up to your doilies in this.”
“Crime? What crime?” She sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jonas’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket.
“This is the last straw, Aunt IdaLee. You’ve gone too far. Mail theft happens to be a federal crime.”
He ignored the continuing buzz from his cell.
“Mail theft?” Her bright blue eyes blinked at him. “You think I’ve stolen someone’s mail? What mail?”
The relentless buzzing stopped.
“Packages are mail, Aunt IdaLee. AnnaBeth would be within her rights to press charges. You—or more likely some former student—hijacked the special-delivery part for AnnaBeth’s car right off the truck.”
“Is that what this caterwauling is about?” His very proper, maiden aunt rolled her eyes. “I have no idea what happened to the package, but neither I nor any of the other matchmakers had anything to do with it, I assure you.”
Like a persistent mosquito, the cell buzzed again.
“You better come inside before we both get pneumonia.” IdaLee’s blue-veined hand tugged him into the old-fashioned foyer. “And for the love of sweet tea, answer that phone.”
She shut the door behind them as he dug the cell out of his pocket. A text from Zach. Driver found package. Accidentally delivered to wrong address.
He scrubbed his hand over his face.
IdaLee directed a pointed look at his hat. “From your expression, I’m guessing the lost package has been located?”
Sheepish, he nodded. And took off his hat.
“All’s well that ends well.”
“That doesn’t excuse everything else you’ve done, Aunt IdaLee.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re referring to, nephew.”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m talking about how you blackmailed Zach into aiding and abetting your schemes.”
IdaLee’s mouth turned prim. “Blackmail is such a harsh term.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Blackmail is such an accurate term.”
She studied him for a long moment. Long enough for Jonas to squirm.
“Have no fear, dear heart.” She squeezed his arm. “The good Lord will work everything out for the best.”
Jonas clenched his jaw. “Did it ever occur to you ladies that the good Lord doesn’t need your help?”
“Of course, He doesn’t need our help. What do you take us for?” She spread her hands. “We had nothing to do with the storm. The blizzard was an act of God.”
These old women were going to be the death of him.
His elderly aunt’s wrinkled face softened. “Even when you were Hunter’s age, you were always so serious. And later you became the strong, silent type.” Her cheeks sagged. “Not always a good thing, especially when you were hurting.”
Jonas tried swallowing past the lump in his throat.
“But you can’t live the rest of your life afraid of getting hurt by love again, dear boy.”
Hadn’t AnnaBeth said something similar?
IdaLee smoothed down the corner of his upturned collar. “I like that runaway bride of yours.”
“She’s not my—”
“I admit we’ve had to take some unusual and unprecedented measures to keep her from resuming her road trip. To give you both sufficient time to grasp the possibilities.” IdaLee’s eyes glinted. “You’ve been our hardest case yet. But we’re determined to see you happy, Jonas, even if it kills us.”
“Or me,” he grunted.
She smiled. “How hard you make it on yourself, my stubborn nephew, is entirely up to you.”
Was happiness possible for someone like him?
IdaLee glanced at the grandmother clock on the wall. “Aren’t you supposed to pick Hunter up from preschool about now?”
He’d lost track of time. Between the matchmakers, his son’s mommy wish and AnnaBeth, he might be in danger of losing his mind.
Smelling of lavender, IdaLee caught him in a hug. “Don’t forget how much your old aunt loves you, Jonas.”
Despite never having children of her own, every Christmas she’d had a gift for each of her nieces and nephews. She always managed to get him what he wanted most.
Though sometimes he didn’t know it was what he most wanted until he unwrapped her gift on Christmas Eve.
He returned her hug. “I won’t, Aunt IdaLee.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And you’re not old. You’ll outlive us all.”
Pulling away, her blue eyes twinkled. “Clean living.” She wagged her gnarled finger. “Let that be a lesson to you. You hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He blew out a breath.
Back in the truck, he headed toward Hunter’s school. Why was he fighting the matchmakers so hard? If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
Why not enjoy Christmas this year? Why not enjoy this brief interlude of happiness with AnnaBeth?
But for Jonas, happiness had proven as elusive as morning mist on the mountain.
And as he gripped the wheel, he couldn’t help but wonder how much reaching for happiness might cost him this time.
* * *
With Hunter at school Friday morning, Deirdre and AnnaBeth decided to take a short road trip. About an hour’s drive from Truelove, Asheville was a fun, quirky city.
Deirdre had asked for AnnaBeth’s advice in updating the worn decor in the FieldStone cabins. AnnaBeth was only too thrilled to help.
They shopped. They ate lunch in a trendy café near Pack Square. They shopped some more.
And they talked. She found herself telling Deirdre things she hadn’t intended to reveal. Or realized about herself. Her self-doubt. Her insecurities.
Including what happened the day of her wedding.
Later that afternoon, they decided to stop at a tearoom near Biltmore Village before returning to Truelove. It was a lovely, cozy shop. Each dining area had a different-themed Christmas tree.
Amidst the clinking of china, she told Deirdre about her parents and their divorce.
“You were living with your mother when she died?”
“I was not much older than Hunter.” AnnaBeth nodded. “Everything from that time is blurry, but I remember feeling lost. And alone.” She glanced out the tearoom window at the passing cars. “I still do.”
She remembered a bitter, cold day at a cemetery. Her mother’s friends and coworkers had gathered. A pastor spoke words over her mother’s coffin.
AnnaBeth had searched the crowd in vain for the face that mattered—her father’s. Yet at some point that day, he must’ve arrived, although she couldn’t recall the exact details. When he came to bring her home to live with him.
Her only other tangible memory that day was of a woman holding tightly to her hand. And the beautiful, velvet bows on the woman’s to-die-for, high-heeled shoes.
“My fascination with footwear started young.”
Deirdre reached across the tea table, wresting AnnaBeth from the sadness of that long-ago day. “You remind me of a parable Jesus told his disciples.”
“The pearl of great price.” Deirdre smiled. “The story is about a merchant seeking exquisite pearls. And when he found one, he sold everything he had to purchase it.”
AnnaBeth took a sip of tea. “Still not sure I know what you mean.”
“There are several interpretations of the story, but here’s the one that reminds me of you.”
AnnaBeth placed her cup in the saucer.
“Jesus is like the merchant, searching and seeking precious ones to make His own. And the price He paid for His bride, the church, was His life.”
AnnaBeth knotted the napkin in her lap.
“You, AnnaBeth, are one of those pearls.”
Tears sprang to AnnaBeth’s eyes. “I—I never thought of the story that way.” Her mouth quivered. “Or myself that way.”
“You should, because that’s how God sees you.”
Finding the Bible app on her phone, Deirdre pointed AnnaBeth to other Scriptures passages.
“Lost sheep. Lost coin.” AnnaBeth swiped a finger under her eye. “Is it me, or are you sensing a pattern?”
Deirdre’s mouth quirked.
“I wish my stepmother had been someone like you, Deirdre.” She grimaced. “Instead, I got the queen of mean. Tennis lessons. Ballet. Etiquette classes. Cotillion. The debutante ball. I could go on.”
Deirdre drew her eyebrows together. “Was she truly mean to you, AnnaBeth? Or trying to broaden your horizons? Make you the best you could be?”
AnnaBeth sniffed. “She was trying and failing to make me as perfect as her.”
Deirdre ran the tip of her finger around the gold rim of the cup. “How exhausting.”
AnnaBeth rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it.”
“I meant your stepmother, Victoria.” Deirdre leaned forward. “I can’t imagine how frustrating and hopeless she must feel. Always trying to live up to some impossible ideal. Trying to please others when the only one we should strive to please is God.”
AnnaBeth made a face. “That’s Victoria.”
“Last last bit? I was talking about you, honeybun.”
AnnaBeth glanced up, but Deirdre’s eyes were kind.
“God made you just as you are, AnnaBeth. Gorgeous, capable—”
“Not thin, though.”
Deirdre placed her hand over AnnaBeth’s. “God made you, AnnaBeth Cummings, just right.”
“But not blond.”
“God made you a beautiful, loving, vivacious redhead. You must learn to love yourself.” Deirdre squeezed her hand. “Because you’re wonderful. God doesn’t make junk.”
“Except for the junk in my trunk?”
“I’m being serious here.”
AnnaBeth smiled. “I know. And I love you for what you said. I promise I will think about those bible verses.”
Soon after, they resumed their journey back to the FieldStone. But the day wasn’t finished surprising AnnaBeth.
When they arrived at the lodge, Jonas was in the midst of planning a surprise of his own.
* * *
A light dusting of snow fell on Saturday morning. AnnaBeth had feared the snow might derail the bonfire Jonas had organized for his friends that night in the meadow underneath the stars.
But as she was learning, mountain folk were intrepid. They weren’t willing to let a little precipitation stand in the way of a good time.
Whereas, Charlotte would have ground to a complete halt at the first snowflake.
The snow gave the ranch a renewed beauty. Hunter gathered sticks to roast marshmallows. Jonas had bought graham crackers and chocolate bars to create s’mores. The crisp chill in the air was a perfect companion to the welcome warmth of the fire.
Jonas had talked a lot about his friends. He’d invited those closest to him to the FieldStone, making it something of an occasion.
Frankly, she was nervous. These people meant a lot to him. Would they like her? Then she recalled one of the verses she was trying to commit to memory.
“I must please God, not men. Please God, not men,” she whispered.
“What?” Jonas joined her near the edge of light cast by the fire.
“Nothing,” she muttered.
Keeping an eye on Hunter, who was jabbing a stick in a snowdrift, they awaited the arrival of Jonas’s guests. Deirdre and Dwight had opted for a “real” date at the Jar. A public declaration they were officially a couple.
Headlights gleamed, rounding the curve in the long driveway.
“Callie and Jake,” Jonas said.
AnnaBeth had already met everyone but Callie. Amber and Callie were best friends. Their husbands had extended their friendship to Jonas. She prayed they’d expand the circle to include her as well.
Voices floated across the distance. Hunter’s head snapped up. “It’s Maisie!” He dropped the stick. “Maisie! Maisie!”
He raced toward the little girl with the bouncing blond curls as fast as his boots would carry him.
Waving, the little girl ran to meet him. “Hunter! Hunter!”
AnnaBeth cut her eyes at Jonas. “Put them in slow mo—give or take a few decades—and you’ve got an epic blockbuster love story there, my friend.”
Jonas stuck his tongue in his cheek. “You’re referring to one of those chick flicks, aren’t you?”
She gave him a saucy grin. “Nothing wrong with a little romance.”
“Nothing at all.” The flickering flames cast his chiseled features in sharp relief. “How about after this crowd leaves and we get Hunter to bed, you find that epic love story on Netflix?”
“It’s a date.” She choked. “I—I mean—”
“You were right the first time.” He brushed his finger across her cheek. “It is a date.” Then he walked away to greet Callie and Jake.
Grateful the darkness hid the crimson in her cheeks, AnnaBeth headed over to join them and Jonas introduced her to Callie.
Ignoring the adults, Hunter and Maisie caught up on the events of their lives since last they met—yesterday at school.
Jake shook his head. “Dear old dad doesn’t exist once Hunter Stone comes along.”
Callie hugged her husband’s arm. “As much as Maisie loves her daddy, I don’t think you need fear losing your baby girl just yet.” She winked at AnnaBeth. “But like her mama, she does have right good taste in men.”
AnnaBeth laughed. “Who doesn’t love a cowboy?”
Doors slammed from another vehicle. Callie and her husband moved to greet the Green family.
Turning on her heel, AnnaBeth plowed straight into a solid mountain of a man. And she found herself, nose-to-chest, with Jonas himself.
“Who doesn’t love a cowboy?” Jonas caught hold of her elbows. “Is that so? Are you speaking from personal experience, flatlander?”
She dragged her gaze from the steady beat of the pulse in his throat to his liquid brown eyes. “Uh-huh...”
Jonas wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. “I’ll hide the marshmallows. You hide the chocolate.” Leaning closer, he whispered into her ear. “Then maybe everyone will go home. And we can have that movie date.”
Her hunky cowboy smiled. AnnaBeth felt like floating skyward alongside the sparks from the fire.
But the bonfire proved fun, too. She enjoyed Jonas’s friends. She appreciated how Amber and Callie went out of their way to get to know her. Turned out, they were Heart’s Home readers, too.
After a lovely evening, eventually everyone went home. And she did find a chick flick on a cable channel. She and Jonas stayed up late, talking. Laughing. Getting to know each other.
Getting better acquainted with each other’s hearts.
And despite the lack of sleep, she got out of bed the next morning before the first rays of sun topped the ridge. Sunsets
were spectacular here, but there was just something about sunrise and the start of a new day, bright with possibilities.
She still hadn’t summoned the courage to deal with Victoria, but every night she called MaryDru. AnnaBeth felt confident her sister and Scott were making progress toward a lasting future together. She tried not to dwell on the fact she had yet to hear from her father.
Like most families on Sunday morning, it was a mad scramble to get to church on time. She fell in love with the two-hundred-year-old sanctuary, the wide-planked beams soaring overhead and the prisms of light shining through the stained-glass windows.
She loved the hymns. The reading of God’s word. But most of all, she loved the sense of shared faith. The community of fellow believers.
After church, Jonas’s mother and Dwight decided to do some Christmas shopping at an outlet mall on the highway. And Jonas left AnnaBeth in the sanctuary while he handed Hunter into the care of the McAbees. Little Maisie was hosting a children’s Christmas party at the orchard that afternoon.
AnnaBeth was so busy admiring the handcrafted altar she failed to notice the matchmakers advancing on her until it was too late. She soon found herself surrounded.
“My, my, IdaLee,” GeorgeAnne clucked. “The way that nephew of yours looks at this here redheaded gal.”
AnnaBeth blushed.
Tiny IdaLee plumped her lips. “Every time she walks into a room, he has eyes only for her.”
ErmaJean clapped her age-spotted hands together. “That’s a song. Isn’t that a song, GeorgeAnne?”
If nothing else, these ladies were tenacious. She’d been foolish to imagine the matchmakers had dropped their campaign. Only a strategic retreat until they could regroup.
Miss IdaLee lifted her chin. “And I’ve seen how you look at him, missy, when you think no one is paying attention.”
“I may be old, but I’m not too old to remember giving my dear departed husband a look like that myself when we were a-courting.” ErmaJean patted her shoulder. “Are you and Jonas courting now, dear?”
She gulped. Were they? She thought about last night.
About how they’d laughed. How happy she’d been. How happy Jonas had seemed. As if the years and the cares of the world had vanished from his face.