A Christmas Prayer: An Autistic Child, a Father's Love, a Woman's Heart (Christmas Romance) (3 page)

“Then what happened?”

“The judge felt sorry for me. I made a plea deal for probation with the condition I finish high school. The day after I received my diploma, I took off. I joined a band in Nashville and the rest is history. Music saved me from a life of crime.”

Alexis’s thoughts went to Gib. Was there anything that would save him from graduating to crimes far worse than his “borrowing?”

“Unfortunately,” Ethan continued, “it took a lot longer to finally kick alcohol. I wished there’d been an organization like Gideon Foundation when I was a kid. They not only teach at-risk kids art and music, they also have a remarkable drug prevention and rehabilitation program. Their success rate is amazing. I believe your brother is one of their clients.”

Alexis stiffened. “How do you know about Gib’s troubles? He doesn’t do drugs.”

“Like I said. Max does a thorough background check, and I asked Kyle.”

“You went to school with Kyle and his brother didn’t you?”

“Afraid they knew me when I used to put holes in the walls every time a grownup ticked me off.”

“Do you still put holes in the walls?”

“I try not to. Maybe why I’m always playing the guitar—something else to do with my hands.”

Ethan’s laugh could chase a cloud from New York to California.
Egad.
Sounded like another song scooting around in her head. “My parents said my brother was named after the guitar brand. Apparently his biological father was musical.”

Ethan sat in his recliner and stretched his long legs. “Probably. The area has as many bars as it does churches. Most guitarists drift toward honky-tonks or join a gospel group.”

“Your newest release,
A Christmas Prayer
, is a huge hit. What’s the story behind it?”

“Not much of a story, really.” He glanced toward his guitar. “A pop-artist influenced my career and I wrote the song as a result of his advice.”

He evaded her question. Why? She’d have to see where this vein took them. “How so?”

“Sometimes, you search for words to express the struggle inside of you. If there is nothing already out there, you have to make something up to express the hurt inside. Chances are you’re not the only one going through the struggle, which is why some songs resonate with folks. They identify with the pain you’re feeling. You give them words. Take
White Christmas
, for example.”

“Don’t follow.”

“It’s a song about home sickness. Who hasn’t felt homesick at some point in their lives?”

“And how does
A Christmas Prayer
help people express their feelings?”

“My long-standing alcohol addiction is no secret. One day, God got ahold of me. I decided it was time to clean up.
A Christmas Prayer
is a prayer for deliverance. There isn’t a human alive who hasn’t felt trapped by circumstances beyond their control.”

Alexis shifted in her chair. Why wouldn’t Ethan tell the real story?

“Any other reason?”

“God coming to earth as a vulnerable baby helped me realize God understands our frailties. I surrendered my addiction. I’ve been sober for a year now.”

His gaze, deep and penetrating, cracked her façade and bared her sin.

Chapter Five

Ethan’s driver pulled the mammoth black limo against the curb near Alexis’s house. Sorry, Mr. Jacobs,” he said. “Too big to fit into Ms. Jennings’s driveway.”

Though Ethan wanted smaller, the only other option on short notice was a sporty Bentley that sat four. Either he’d have to drive or leave someone at home. He hoped the leviathan of a vehicle didn’t make him appear phony or make Gib feel as though he’d been swallowed by a whale.

Since he’d arrived a few minutes early, Ethan took the time to consider the events of yesterday and his hopes for the evening. Without Max’s help, Ethan had made the dinner arrangements himself and wanted the evening to go well. He shook his head, half in nervousness and half in pride for his forethought. Who said fame made a man helpless? He’d chosen to dine at Jack’s Oyster House near Albany, famous for their Cowboy Steak.

He’d called Alexis to be sure she’d be content with the restaurant; her only concerns were Gib’s limited likes and unpredictability in crowded
situations. To be on the safe side, Ethan had phoned
ahead and asked the management to prepare fried chicken as a backup in case nothing on the menu appealed to Gib’s finicky nature. He also requested a private room and offered a large tip if the restaurant assigned wait staff who would be sensitive to a child with disabilities.

He’d prepared to the best of his ability. Let the night bring on what the night willed.

As for the rest of his hopes for the night, prayer wouldn’t hurt.

He wanted a chance to be better acquainted with Gib before court. Jan MacKendrick had cautioned Ethan not to force attention on Gib, instead let the relationship develop naturally.

“Given all Gib has been through, you may have to accept the fact you and he may never have a normal father-son relationship,” she’d warned.

Ethan sighed with worry. He wouldn’t know what a normal father-son relationship looked like. Better to hold no expectations.

Then, there was his hope to know the beautiful
Alexis better as well. Too bad she had invited her friend along. His disappointment softened some when she explained Jasmine’s calming influence on Gib. The invite made sense in retrospect. Still, he’d like to find some way of being alone with
Alexis. He’d felt a purr yesterday during the interview,
like a motor running, more than an exchange of pleasant conversation. He’d like to think the glint in her eyes had been due to something more than irritating contact lenses. His mind filled with yesterday’s vision: her red blouse clinging to her skin, showing off a figure like a Miss October in one of those magazines he vowed he would never look at again. Around her, he’d felt more awkward than a pimply boy. A discomforting emotion, yet one he wanted desperately to act upon. She took his breath away. Not just her looks and gritty spirit though. She possessed a genuineness he rarely saw in the women within his circles. He sensed her momentary attraction to him as well.

A pity that come Thursday, she’d think him the most loathsome man alive.

Funny he should be so infatuated, desiring her in ways he shouldn’t. She surprised him. Not only that he found her attractive. He realized how much he’d prejudged her, pegging her for an opportunist, capitalizing on Gib’s inheritance, until he learned she invested most of Gib’s money and supported him on her meager wages.

After meeting her, her motives for leaving a high-paying job to move to a forsaken tundra and work for peanuts remained hidden. Financial gain was obviously not the reason. Pastor Jennings had a brother who was a missionary in Kenya, and Mrs. Jennings’s family lived in Wisconsin. Alexis’s sacrifice meant Gib could stay in the only house he’d ever known.

Ethan recalled the cruelty of Jasper Falls’ gossip train. Now the town blamed Alexis for Gib’s legal problems. He’d joined the circus of critics until he met her and realized her strong commitment to a community and a child not her own.

He remembered her giggles in the snow, repressed hilarity. Did she have any opportunity at all to enjoy simple pleasures? He couldn’t imagine the demands a disabled child brought upon a family of means, let alone a single woman of limited income.

Then why had she felt so compelled to lose so much with so little to gain?

Ethan hoped the night might give him an answer.

Should he take the opportunity tonight to tell Alexis the whole truth? Why he took a special interest in Gib? Why he’d orchestrated yesterday’s interview? His real reasons for a prolonged stay in Jasper Falls? If he did, she’d hate him; he’d never know where their attraction might take them. A romance aborted before it could begin.

Apparently, they each had agendas they kept hidden from the other.

Whatever melody God had composed between them, however sweet the intro, it seemed destined to crescendo to a horrific clang. Would Gib become caught in its refrain?

* * *

Alexis gasped as Ethan came into her living room dressed in his black suit looking more like a businessman than a Country singer and carrying a mysteriously large wrapped box. She appreciated the warning that she should dress semi-formally and was doubly glad they’d be dining out of town. She’d saved the only classy outfit she had for the Mayor’s Dinner. Fortunately, none of Jasper Falls’ upper crust would know she wore it twice in one week. Anyway, all eyes would be on Jasmine, who, dressed in a breathtaking blue-sequined top and black silk slacks, looked more like Ethan Jacobs’s date than the understated Alexis Jennings.

Gib sat angelically in the recliner. He’d looked forward to tonight more than most kids anticipated Christmas. She’d used the dinner as bribery, so to speak, as Kyle suggested. And Gib had been on his best behavior all day. Maybe kids did respond better if they realized the good behavior worked in their favor. Gib looked handsome in his new clothes. She’d taken him shopping for a pair of faux-leather cowboy boots, all she could afford. This time, he agreed to wear them rather than throw them in the garbage. His brown suit made him look so grown up.

Alexis nodded toward Jasmine. “Ethan Jacobs, Jasmine Reynolds, the best copy editor
The Daily Chronicle
will ever see and my best friend since third grade.”

Ethan shook Jasmine’s hand. “Pleasure’s mine.” He held out the large box to Gib. “This is for you.”

Gib ripped it open like a two-year old on Christmas Day and held up a pair of $600 Tony Lama ostrich boots. Alexis knew how much they cost because Gib had made her look at four pages of boots on the Internet.

“Just like yours, Ethan,” Gib said.

“Mr. Jacobs to you.” How she tired of constant correction.

“You can call me Ethan.”

Alexis’s cheeks warmed. What nerve! He insulted her with a gift for Gib she could never match and then undermined her authority. “We’re trying to teach Gib not to assume a first name familiarity, but instead to wait until the adult gives permission.”

Gib reached into the box again. “Hey, Alexis … look, there’s a hat in here, too.” He modeled the brown velvet Stetson.

“I appreciate your generosity. The boots would have been quite enough.”

Gib placed the hat on his head and held up the boots. “Can I put these on? Please?”

How could she refuse him, his smile the whole width of his face? Of course, he’d want to see the full look in the upstairs mirror. “Okay, but be quick. We have to stop at the Gideon Foundation for a photo op.”

Alexis glanced toward Ethan as he watched her brother go up the stairs. “Gib’s very excited about tonight, especially your gifts. Although, I’m curious how you knew his size.”

Ethan’s eyes grew slightly larger as he veered his gaze toward her clock. Odd since he wore a Rolex. “Lucky guess.”

Inexperienced liars, Alexis had learned from years of interviews, avoided eye contact. A chill
traveled up her spine, like a warning before a storm.
What was Ethan’s agenda where Gib was concerned?

“Ethan, I don’t want to appear ungrateful for your generosity.”

“But?”

“Gib has a hard time processing these things. He tends to think once he’s been given something he should get it all the time. Give him a cookie after supper and he believes he should always have a cookie after supper. He’ll never settle for faux leather again. Cost doesn’t mean anything to him. When I tell him I can’t afford something, it doesn’t compute.”

“I meant no harm. Kyle told me how much he—”

Leave it to Jasmine to redirect a train heading for collision. “Maybe we should go now? We have a long ride and a stop to make.”

“Maybe we should.”

As they headed toward the limo, Ethan joked with Gib and Jasmine pulled Alexis behind, out of earshot.

“What’s with you, girl? I’ve never seen you so riled around a stranger.”

“He has an agenda, Jasmine. What gives him the right to think he can buy Gib?”

“He’s not buying anyone, Alexis. Maybe he’s a nice guy trying to be kind to a kid with a disability. Celebs enjoy spreading their money around once in a while. If Gib gets a little benefit, so what?”

“So what? I’m convinced there’s a hidden agenda
within all this generosity, and it makes me uneasy. He’s a recovering alcoholic. What if there’s some other issue? What if he’s a pedophile? I don’t like the way he looks at me, either. Like he can buy me, too.”

Jasmine skewered her resistance. “This is not Los Angeles. I’ve read a lot about Ethan Jacobs. So, he was a drunk. More like a binge drinker. There’s nothing in his history to indicate he likes boys. Or big boys either. I think you want to find fault with him because you like him.”

“Do not.”

“Do, too. Why can’t you accept the fact somebody like Ethan Jacobs might find you attractive because you’re as smart as you are pretty? Every time you meet somebody who might be good for you, you chase them away. The only men you let yourself date are poster boys for America’s Most Wanted.”

“This conversation is getting us nowhere. Let’s not keep Prince Charming waiting. I don’t want him alone with Gib. He’s apt to give him his Rolex next.”

* * *

Ethan helped the women into the limo and directed Gib to the seat away from the refrigerator. Alexis seemed very protective of her brother and he respected her for it. Unfortunately, like manure hidden under straw, Ethan somehow managed to step into trouble. Seemed the more he tried to win the fair maiden’s approval, the more irritated she became. For the rest of the evening, he’d be sure to ask her opinion before making offers that might go against her sensibilities. He couldn’t tell her how he’d bought the hat and boots before coming to Jasper Falls and in his excitement hadn’t considered Gib’s cognitive impairment. Then again, why should he feel guilty for lavishing gifts on his son when he could well afford them?

As a parent, he had a lot to learn about when to give and when to withhold. He supposed a kid like Gib made these choices doubly difficult. How many more mistakes would he make? Would he have to turn into a sergeant at arms to keep Gib safe as Alexis had done?

Ethan shot a prayer of thanks to God for abundant resources to help Gib. He hoped after Thursday, Alexis would eventually see the pluses—and overlook his inexperience related to kids with disabilities. Didn’t most parents learn from on-the-job training?

“There’s the Gideon Foundation,” Gib said as the limo pulled up in front of a brick structure Ethan recognized as the Duncan Mansion, the home of the famed Scottish mill owner who’d employed half of Jasper Falls in the early 1900s. There was a time when he knew every inch of the estate.

Ethan fell asleep during English and Math classes, but History had fascinated him. He enjoyed learning about the rise and fall of the millionaires who invaded the Adirondacks, people like the Carnegies, Vanderbilts, and Rockefellers, political figures like Teddy Roosevelt and Abner Duncan. Some lost their holdings during the Great Depression and their magnificent properties were bought as inns or donated to charity. At least the Duncan Mansion had found renewed purpose with the Gideon Foundation. When the place came up for auction last year at the same time the Gideon Foundation announced its intention to open a satellite in Jasper Falls, logic told him to purchase it with the proviso that his donation remain anonymous.

“Did you know Abner Duncan was as much a philanthropist as Andrew Carnegie?” Ethan asked Alexis.

“Carnegie spent millions assuaging his guilt. Speaking of philanthropy, I understand an anonymous donor purchased this land for the Gideon Foundation. Wasn’t you, was it Ethan?”

He blushed.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“That is something I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“Figures.”

“So, why is the Duncan Mansion considered a perfect location for the Gideon Foundation?” Jasmine asked. “I know he came to the United States from Scotland and worked as a lumberjack before he connived his way into politics and became a congressman, investing heavily into the railroads.”

Ethan stared at the mansion as he climbed from the limo. “Truth is, the man made his millions selling and transporting opium from Canada to New York City. When his son died from an overdose, he was brought to his knees, a penitent sinner if you will. He opened up clinics to help people with addictions, instituting a ‘higher power’ concept long before AA and NA.”

Alexis tilted her head and stared at Ethan like a confused puppy at its master. Maybe she’d scratched off a few items from her list of reasons not to like him. Gib went on ahead, affording Ethan the opportunity to let Alexis know the Gideon staff planned to allow Gib to serve as the group’s guide.

Gib pointed out places the staff didn’t know existed. He explained the program scheduling and services offered, perhaps not in the same vernacular as an administrator, yet every bit as efficiently. When they left the building, Ethan motioned for Gib to go ahead to the limo. “I need to ask your sister a question.”

“Oh, man!” Gib obeyed with only a little shuffle of his feet. Ethan sidled next to Alexis. “I stocked the refrigerator with snacks. I figured I’d better make sure you didn’t mind before I offered them to Gib.”

“You ask me about snacks but not $600 boots?”

Ethan felt the blush erupt.

“Yes, snacks are fine. Gib needs calories. He’s on Adderall, which diminishes his appetite. When he’s hungry, I let him eat whatever appeals to him. We fight over so many things that I don’t make food an issue. Of course, the counselors don’t agree with my rationale.”

So much for getting on Alexis’s good side.
Instead, he’d managed to distance an ocean between
them. Once in the limo, Ethan figured he might find more congenial conversation with Gib, if singing
songs counted as conversation.

Soon, Jasmine joined in. Alexis only listened.

Gib’s voice had not yet deepened, and his angelic tones filled the interior. Ethan looked forward to teaching his son to play the guitar. Gib must have asked Ethan to sing
A Christmas Prayer
a dozen times.

“You really like the song, eh?”

Gib leaned in and whispered. “Can you keep a secret?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve a crime or hurt anyone.”

Gib nearly crossed his eyes as if Ethan had stated the ridiculous. “Of course not.”

“Then what’s the secret?”

“
A Christmas Prayer
is my favorite song ever,” he whispered.

Getting to the meat of this secret would be like cracking a Brazil nut. “Why’s that, Gib?”

“’Cause I have a Christmas prayer.”

“What did you pray for?”

“I asked God to make Alexis happy.”

“What makes you think she isn’t?”

Gib leaned back continuing to speak in barely audible volumes. “She cries a lot. She doesn’t think I see her.”