Holiday Homecoming (15 page)

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Authors: Jean C. Gordon

BOOK: Holiday Homecoming
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Josh leaned back in the chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Haven't decided. Of course, if her sister sticks around...”

Connor clenched his hands, even though he knew Josh had to be saying that to get a rise out of him.

Josh eyed his clenched fists. “Worse than I thought.” His expression softened.

Connor unrolled his fists.

“You'll make a lot of your parishioners happy. Of course, as soon as you're married, half the congregation will start looking for the babies.”

“I haven't said anything about marrying Natalie.”

Josh waved him off. “It's written all over you.”

Connor leaned back against the couch cushion. “Don't you want to settle down someday?” he asked to deflect the conversation from him.

“The only reason I can see for getting married is kids. Go forth and multiply and all that.”

Connor worked a muscle in his jaw at the way Josh tossed out his version of scripture. He wanted to understand his brother. This was starting to be the closest thing to a real conversation he and Josh had had in years. But, as usual, Josh's attitude wasn't making that easy. “You don't want kids?”

The lines bracketing Josh's mouth deepened. “You know I don't. I have too many of Dad's bad characteristics. It's hard enough keeping them in control with adults. I'd be a terrible father.”

He felt sorry for Josh, but he had a point. Josh was the most impatient of the three of them and the least tied to family. And he could see their father in the way Josh put himself first and was never happy with what he had, was always looking for the next best thing.

“I'm safe with Hope. I can be an indulgent big brother. I don't have to be responsible for seeing she grows up right.” Josh avoided his gaze and emptied his coffee mug. “You're awfully quiet. Having second thoughts?”

Connor thought about last Saturday when he and Natalie had taken Hope and Robbie on the Polar Express and how he'd liked the way the four of them had felt like a family.

“No, you've got me. I want it all. Marriage, kids. No second thoughts.” He glanced from the clock on the DVR to the phone. But he couldn't say the same for Natalie. Maybe he should have some doubts.

* * *

Natalie twisted her neck to work out the crick she'd gotten from falling asleep in the airport chair and adjusted her eyes to the too-bright lights. She looked at Michelle, who was still asleep in the seat beside her. She hadn't wanted to wake her last night to ask to use her phone. So instead, she'd used a pay phone to try to reach Connor and had lost the last of her cash in the pay phone attempting the call. Once she explained, Connor would understand her silence.
He had to
.

Michelle rustled beside her and shot up straight in the chair, wide-awake. “What time is it? I fell asleep. We haven't missed our flight, have we?”

Panic filled Natalie. Her gaze shot to the overhead arrival-departure sign. “No.” Her unease escalated. “It's been canceled, and I've got to get home today.”

“Me, too,” Michelle said. “I can't miss my baby's first Christmas. Let's rent a car. I grew up in the snow belt south of Buffalo and you're from the mountains. We know how to drive in snow, and if we leave now, you can make your pageant tonight.”

Natalie might not like driving in snow, but she did know how. “All right.” She stood and reached for her suitcase. If it would get her back to Connor in time for the pageant, she could do some snow driving.

After she'd called Connor yesterday afternoon, Natalie had talked to Michelle about the pageant and needing to get home for it, although not all of the reasons why.

“But...” Natalie's excitement lost steam. “I can't... I don't... I don't have any money to help with the rental, and you'll be going miles out of your way.”

“Pay me back later. Whatever. Besides, I need you to help with the driving. If we alternate driving, I can rest and be okay to drive the final stretch downstate to my house alone.”

“Thanks.” Natalie couldn't come close to expressing how much Michelle's generosity meant to her.

The weather report Natalie caught as she waited in the car-rental area for Michelle to arrange the rental renewed her excitement and hope. The storm was a slow-moving lake-effect storm that, because they were heading east, they'd soon drive out of.

Michelle waved her over. “We're all set. I've called my husband. Do you want to call someone now or later? My phone has only about enough power for a couple more calls—yours and an emergency one if we need it. I couldn't find a working outlet in this airport that someone wasn't already using.”

“Now, thanks,” Natalie said. Since Michelle was driving the first leg—hopefully, until they drove out of the worst of the storm—she could call from the car. But she wanted to get her message to Connor as soon as possible. She checked the time on the cell-phone clock—4:30 a.m.—and decided to call the parsonage phone. As much as she wanted to hear Connor's voice, she didn't want to wake him up, and he'd be less likely to hear the phone ringing in his office a couple rooms away or downstairs in the living room.

“Hi, it's me,” she said to the voice mail. “My flight's canceled. Don't worry about coming to Burlington to pick me up. I ran in to a friend at the airport.” A police siren shrieked so close behind them in the parking garage that Natalie covered her other ear to muffle the sound. “We've rented a car and are driving back to New York. I should be there for the pageant. Can't wait to see you.”

Natalie handed the phone back to Michelle, who turned it off, and she settled in passenger seat of the rental car for the first leg of the drive. She was going to make it. All that stood between her and Connor was the fourteen-hour drive home.

Chapter Fourteen

C
onnor clenched his jaw in frustration. He had come downstairs Saturday morning to find another missed call from Natalie on the parsonage phone. She'd called at four thirty. It was almost as if she was deliberately calling when she knew he wouldn't pick up.

He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. If he loved her, he should give her the benefit of the doubt. But her words hadn't given him much encouragement. The airline had canceled her flight, and she didn't need him to pick her up at the airport. He got that. It was out of her control. But she hadn't said anything about his pageant, being sorry for missing it. Apparently, she was going to stay with some friend she ran in to at the airport. All he caught of the rest of her message over the sirens and commotion in the background was her casual “see you.” Meaning what? Another rejection? See you around, sucker? When he'd called back the number Natalie had called from, his call had gone directly to the voice mail of someone named Michelle. He hadn't left a message.

Connor picked up the small gray velvet box from the table next to the phone and controlled his urge to crush it in his hand. Natalie was turning him into a sentimental sap. Earlier in the week, he'd taken the ring from the safe deposit box at the bank, where it had sat for the past five years. Yesterday, he'd bought jewelry cleaner and polished it. Today... He pushed away his thoughts of what he'd planned to do today. Cupping the box in his hands, he sank to his knees, elbows resting on the seat cushion of the couch.

Dear Lord
,
what does this all mean?
I
thought I had Your answer.
Are Natalie's actions telling me I have it all wrong?
We're not meant to be together?
He felt the weight of the ring in his hands.
Or are You telling me not to accept the Community Church's offer too quickly
,
to reconsider the assistant pastor position?
He paused and listened to the dead silence in the house and in his head.
Tonight
,
we're gathering to celebrate Your Son's birth.
Please lift the weight from my heart
,
so that I can give You and Your Son the glory You deserve and the people attending the pageant the renewal they're seeking.
Ever in Your service.
In Jesus's name
,
Amen.

He pushed himself upright, placed the ring box back on the table and lifted the phone receiver. He had to find a substitute for Natalie for the pageant tonight. Connor looked through his contacts for Andie's number.

“Hi,” a girl's voice said at the other end of the phone when his call rang through.

One of the twins.

“Can I talk to your mom? It's—”

She didn't let him finish. “Mom, some guy wants to talk to you.”

Connor heard Andie reprimanding her daughter for her phone manners.

“Hello, this is Andrea.”

“Andie. It's Connor. I need a huge favor. Can you fill in for Natalie at the pageant tonight? Her flight from Chicago's been canceled and she's not going to make it.”

“Oh, no. She must be so disappointed. She really wanted to do this.”

Andie's unexpected reply calmed some of the turmoil inside him.

“Of course I'll fill in,” she said.

“Do you want me to ask Drew Stacey to open the auditorium so you can come early to practice?” He held his breath that Andie wouldn't take offense, thinking he meant she wasn't as good as Natalie.

“That would be great.”

“Thanks. I'll be there early, too. We can run through the solo once.”

“Sure, if you think we need to.”

“See you tonight.” He turned off the phone. He had someone to lead the choir. At least one thing was going in his favor.

That evening Connor looked out over the nearly filled auditorium, a pang of regret shooting through him as he ended his perusal with Andie, not Natalie, sitting at the piano. He hadn't heard anything more from her all day. He closed his eyes and breathed in—
Jesus
—then out—
loves me
—in a calming prayer exercise he'd learned in seminary.

Connor faced the audience. “Welcome. It's great to see such a crowd here for the fifth annual Paradox Lake Association of Churches' Christmas pageant. I'm Connor Donnelly, pastor of...” Natalie stood in the open center door to the auditorium, wearing the dress and boots she'd worn to the open house at the parsonage. His mouth went dry, and his heart smashed against his chest.
She'd come
.

He cleared his throat. “I'm the pastor of Hazardtown Community Church and your host tonight.” He motioned to Natalie. “Our late arrival is our music director, the talented Natalie Delacroix.” Their eyes met and held for a moment before she hurried down the aisle.
The only woman I ever have loved, or ever will love.
At that moment, he decided that if Natalie could do whatever she'd done to get from Chicago this morning to Paradox Lake tonight for his pageant, he could take the assistant pastor position and move to Chicago for her.

Natalie said something to her sister that Connor couldn't hear before Andie walked up the steps to join the choir, and Natalie took her place at the piano.

He dragged his gaze away from her and addressed the audience again. “Let's bow our heads in prayer.” He cleared his mind of the words he'd written and memorized for tonight and spoke what was in his heart now. “Dear Lord, thank You for gathering us here tonight, so we can thank You for all the gifts You have given us, not the least of which is Your Son. The Son You gave to us all to wash away our sins and make us as innocent as that newborn wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger that night so long ago. The Son whose story we celebrate tonight. Amen.”

“Amen,” the audience echoed.

He lifted his head. “Now, our combined church choir will start that story with ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.'” Connor let Natalie's prelude and the choir's voices flow over him as he took his place on the stage with the choir and watched the Sunday school's Mary and Joseph walk down the aisle to the manger centered on the floor in front of the singers.

A few minutes later, when the Sunday school angels heralded Christ's birth, Connor left his place with the choir to go stand by the piano for his and Natalie's “O Holy Night” solo. Before he reached the aisle between the risers, Andie startled him by stepping out of her choir spot and preceding him down the stairs. Natalie stood, giving Andie the piano bench.
So
,
that's what Natalie and Andie had been talking about before the pageant began
. Natalie joined Connor beside the instrument. The smile she gave him almost made him lean against the instrument for support.

He sang to her as if they were the only ones in the room and she sang to him, filling Connor with the joy of the season he'd had trouble finding earlier. When they finished the last chorus together, the audience went silent for a moment before breaking into a standing ovation. The loud reminder that they weren't alone halted his impulse to grab Natalie's hand and squeeze it. The rest of the program passed like a dream, punctuated by the usual mishaps that characterize any presentation involving small children but make those performances more endearing.

Afterward, Connor smiled until his face hurt, shaking hands and talking with the many people who came forward to congratulate him, all of the time impatiently wishing he could tell them they needed to go home so he could talk with Natalie. He pressed his palm against the jewelry box in his suit jacket pocket under his choir robe. Finally, the auditorium cleared, except for Natalie and him.

“I'm so glad you made it.” He hugged her shoulder. “You said your flight was canceled. How'd you do it?” His heart swelled with the unspoken knowledge she'd done it for him.

She tilted her head. “We drove, like I said in my message.”

“So that was what you were saying when the sirens were blaring.”

“You didn't know? You weren't expecting me?”

He shook his head, ashamed he hadn't had more faith in her. “I have to drop my choir robe and a couple other things off at church. I'll walk you to your car. Then meet me at the parsonage so we can talk.”

“I can't do that.”

Connor choked.

“I don't have a car. The friend I drove home with dropped me here before she headed to her house downstate.”

“That. Was not. Funny. You could give a man a heart attack.”

She smiled an innocent little grin that was just as lethal. “I'll get my coat and luggage.”

Connor removed his choir robe and waited while she put her coat on. He carried Natalie's suitcase with one hand and opened the door for her with the other. After locking the door, he turned to walk her to his car. Their gazes locked.

“I got the Good News reporter job, but I turned it down,” Natalie blurted.

“I've decided to take the Chicago job,” Connor said at the same time.

They both burst into tension-relieving laughter.

“For me?” she asked.

“For you,” he admitted. “Did you turn down the reporter job for me?” He held his breath. He shouldn't have asked, but old Connor had to know.

“Not entirely. I wasn't comfortable there, even though I loved the on-camera work. Some people couldn't let go of my past.”

“But you have.” Rather than being hurt that he wasn't the whole reason, or maybe even the main reason, she'd turned down the job, the thought that she'd finally forgiven herself filled him with intense joy and a feeling of rightness.

“I think so,” she said, her awe showing in her voice. “But, wait.” She touched his arm. “You haven't turned down the Community Church contract, have you?”

“No, why?” he teased.

“Because I love you. I realize I always have.”

Hearing those words he hadn't heard from her in person for more than five years nearly knocked his feet out from under him. “I love you, too.” His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn't used it in a long time.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “And my home is in Paradox Lake now, not Chicago. I have a super job opportunity in New York City that would take me away from home only a few days a month,” she said.

“You have another job offer that you could commute to from here?” He needed to make sure he'd heard her right.

“I do.” Natalie told him about Michelle's talk program and offer.

“Then, you're going to stay here?”

When she nodded, Connor dropped to one knee on the snowy sidewalk.

“Aren't you cold?” she asked, eyeing him as if she'd just noticed he had on only his suit jacket.

“Not at all.” He looked up at the face of the woman he loved with all his heart and at the North Star, the Christmas Star, shining overhead, a beacon in the jet-black sky. He drew the jewelry box from his pocket. “Natalie Delacroix, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes.”

Her simple response sent a shot of adrenaline through his veins. He'd never felt more alive. He lifted the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger.

Natalie stood statue-still for a moment, looking at her hand. “Yes,” she repeated. “Now get up before you freeze to death and give me a welcome-home kiss.”

He rose, ignoring the chill of the wind blowing against his wet trouser leg, and brushed his cold lips against hers, warming them both. As if he had any other choice.

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