The Christmas Children (15 page)

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Authors: Irene Brand

BOOK: The Christmas Children
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Twenty acts, single and pairs, were entered in the competition. Three stern-faced judges had seats close to the ice. Paul and Jennifer's routine would be the grand finale of the program.

Booths were set up, with eager-faced youths selling hot cider and cocoa. The smell of popping corn permeated the crisp evening air, along with the scent from pine trees. Carissa sat on the bleachers, and sipped a cup of hot chocolate and watched “her” children mingle with the friends they'd met at school.
She was pleased that they'd adjusted so easily to a new life.

What would happen if they were forced to leave Yuletide and were sent to separate foster homes, or even forced to live with their father? If the man watching the house was their father, or even another relative, he would take precedence over her attempts at adoption. She should have talked to a lawyer, but in the pre-Christmas rush, she hadn't had time. If she waited until after Christmas, it might be too late.

Carissa enjoyed the amateur performances of the youthful skaters, but during Paul and Jennifer's routine, she was miserable. Jennifer was dressed in crimson tights, a short white cape over her shoulders. Paul's tights were light green, his cape bright red.

Their program lasted about ten minutes, every moment of which was agony for Carissa. When the music started, they performed separately, cutting figure eights in the ice, executing side-by-side solo jumps and spins. They skated in unison, close to each other. Once Jennifer got a lift from Paul that made her jump higher, longer and more spectacular. She landed gracefully, gliding backward on one foot. They did a spin by connecting their legs and whirling together.

The crowd cheered lustily when Paul tossed Jennifer into the air, watched her turn around and caught her. These feats executed, they skated to the center of the rink.

The volume of the music decreased as Paul took Jennifer in his arms, and they danced in perfect
rhythm to the waltz music, dipping and swaying as gracefully on ice as if they were on a ballroom floor. Although the movements were rapid, sometimes they were so close it seemed as if only one body danced. The music stopped, and hand in hand Paul and Jennifer skated to the center to take their bows.

Well, she'd lost him! Carissa decided. No man would be stupid enough to want her when someone as clever, fascinating and beautiful as Jennifer Colton had set her cap for him. If Paul was in a position of comparing her and Jennifer, Carissa conceded that she wasn't even in the running. And if she lost Paul, as well as the children, her future looked bleak.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Paul said. She'd been so engrossed in her worries that she hadn't heard him approach.

“It was a magnificent performance,” she congratulated him. “Both of you skated perfectly as far as I could tell.”

“Thanks. We didn't make many mistakes. It's easier than when we were competing. I was relaxed tonight.” He took her hand. “Come on. It's time for you to skate.”

“I'm waiting until the ice is full of people. Then, if I do a lousy job it won't be so noticeable.”

She handed Paul the empty cup, which he took to the garbage can while she put on the skates.

When he returned he said, “I'll hold your hands until you get the feel of skating again.”

How she wished he could hold her hands the rest of her life!

Carissa was wobbling from one foot to the other when Jennifer, wrapped in a white wool coat and looking unbelievably beautiful, stopped beside them.

“Oh, you're going to skate?” she asked Carissa.

Although annoyed that Jennifer had seen her awkward movements, Carissa forced herself to say sincerely, “Your performance was excellent. Congratulations.”

“It was the most exhilarating experience I've had for years! I'm sorry now that I didn't continue my dreams and become a professional skater instead of getting married. But we don't always make wise decisions when we're young, do we, Paul?”

She fixed him with a predatory glance that worried Carissa.

“I made some good decisions in my youth, and I don't regret any of them. Let's go, Carissa.”

“I'll see you shortly, Paul.” Jennifer leveled a glance at Carissa. “I've invited all the participants to my house for a party, so I have to hurry and be sure the caterers have everything under control.”

Since the children didn't have school tomorrow, Carissa had planned to have snacks when they got home and let them stay up later than usual. She'd counted on Paul being there, too, but she didn't betray that fact by her expression.

Paul held her hands to be sure she was balanced on the ice before he skated away to check on the
children. It was so crowded on the ice, Carissa couldn't have fallen if she'd wanted to, but she didn't enjoy the experience. Her legs soon became tired from the unaccustomed exertion, so she went back to the bleachers, changed into her boots and huddled in her comfortable coat to wait for the children.

Brilliant lights focused on the gaily-garmented skaters—the scene reminding Carissa of a Currier-Ives painting. As she waited, she contemplated the past month. She'd come to Yuletide to find Christmas. How well had she succeeded in her quest? What had she really accomplished?

She'd found Paul Spencer—a man she admired very much. She'd taken three orphaned children into her home. She'd also found new purpose in life—at least temporarily—to replace the many years she'd devoted to Cara's Fashions.

But so much was still uncertain. She was afraid to adopt the children, even though she wanted to take them. Could she do it alone? With Paul helping, the task wasn't so difficult. Why couldn't she stop imagining how it would be if they were really a family—if she and Paul married and adopted the children?

Her fantasies about Paul had to stop. He'd opposed her adopting the children, and he'd made no bones about the fact that he was returning to Europe after Christmas. Although he'd been affectionate, and she believed he was attracted to her, he hadn't given the slightest indication that he intended to make a lifetime commitment. And then there was Jennifer!

It had been agony for her to watch them skate together tonight. And she was honest enough to admit that her reaction was jealousy. Although Paul seemed indifferent to Jennifer's charm, how could he not have been affected by her nearness during the hours they'd spent perfecting that skating routine?

But even without Jennifer, was marriage an option? For one thing, she'd have to be sure that she loved Paul for himself, not as a way for her to adopt the children. Never until now had Carissa realized how she'd suppressed her maternal longings. When she'd decided not to marry, that had meant no children, so she'd subconsciously put aside any thoughts of motherhood. Now she was amazed to realize that she'd always wanted to be a mother.

If she did adopt the children, Carissa knew that she could rely on God to help her. If God put His approval on the adoption—and she believed that He would—she would manage.

“Why such a gloomy face?” Paul asked, halting in front of her with the children beside him. “I didn't know you weren't skating, or we'd have come sooner. Are you cold?”

“I'm very comfortable sitting here—much more than being out on the ice. I remembered the knack of skating but my joints and muscles didn't. Thinking about that long walk we'll have tomorrow night on the road to Yuletide's Bethlehem, I decided I'd better rest.”

Their happy faces were answer enough, but she asked, “Did you kids enjoy yourselves?”

“I falled down and hurt my knees, but it was fun,” Julie said, clinging tightly to Paul's hand.

Paul walked with them to her SUV, and after he checked to be sure the kids were buckled in, he looked in the window at Carissa, whispering, “I'll help take down the bleachers and other equipment now. Be sure and keep the door locked until I get home.”

“I'll watch, and I'll be careful,” she said. She wanted to caution him too, for she considered Jennifer a predator of the worst kind. If Paul went to her house, he'd be lucky to get home at all tonight. But Paul might not appreciate her advice. Instead of speaking, she stood on tiptoes and put her arms around his neck. Daringly, she planted kisses on his neck, face and lips.

As she jumped in the SUV and started the engine, she heard Paul gasp. Feeling heady, Carissa thought, “Let Jennifer deal with that!”

Chapter Fifteen

T
hrilled by Carissa's kisses and the promises of the future they offered, Paul wished he could skip the party Jennifer had planned, but, not wanting to be a spoilsport, he'd agreed to put in a brief appearance. It took longer to dismantle the bleachers and the light equipment than he'd expected, and it was well after midnight before he was free. When he turned into the street where Jennifer's mother lived, he stopped abruptly. Not a single car was parked in front of the house. Could the party have broken up so soon? The porch light was on, indicating that the welcome mat was out.

Suspicion began to dawn in Paul's mind. Had Jennifer invited anyone other than him to the “party”? Suddenly, he was sure she hadn't. Anger burned in his heart that she would try to trap him.

As he looked back on the past, he remembered that
she'd invited him to a party the night he'd asked her to marry him. It turned out that he was the only guest then, too, and her parents weren't at home. Twenty years ago, he'd been gullible, but not now. Jennifer wouldn't deceive him again. He made a U-turn in the street, hoping she'd see him leaving. He was far more intrigued by what waited for him at his sister's house.

 

Carissa was watching from Paul's bedroom window when he drove in. She went to the rear door and opened it for him.

“I didn't know if you had a key,” she said.

“Any trouble?” he asked.

She wanted to ask him the same thing, but she said, “I haven't seen anyone loitering about. Maybe the person was just looking at the Christmas lights. Our decorations have turned the house into a beautiful sight.”

“I hope that's it.” He shivered. “It is cold tonight. And it's going to be cold tomorrow night for that pageant. We'd better wear thermal underwear.”

“I bought some for myself and the children last week.”

“And I have some in the apartment.”

She was annoyed at him. How could he stand there talking about underwear when she wanted to know how he felt about Jennifer?

Carissa drew the draperies over the sliding doors.

“I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I didn't go to the
party, but it took longer to dismantle the bleachers and spotlights than we'd expected.”

His words brought joy to Carissa's heart. Paul obviously hadn't fallen for Jennifer's charms.

On the other hand, he didn't have any plans for Carissa in his life, either. If she'd foolishly dreamed of a life with Paul, it was her own problem. He hadn't promised her anything.

 

The two-mile walk seemed long to Carissa, but as she and Paul walked slowly, she was conscious of the many people who stood along the road watching them. Paul played the part of the solicitous mate quite well. At times, he simply held her hand; other times, he circled her shoulder with his arm. He carried a walking stick, and swung it occasionally at an imaginary animal that menaced them.

They passed the knoll where the shepherds watched over the small flock of sheep. After a short interval they, too, would hear the angels' song and come to the manger. The three kings wouldn't leave their starting point until an hour after Mary and Joseph had departed. Slowly, they would wend their way on camouflaged horses toward the imaginary Bethlehem.

The sidewalks of Yuletide were crowded with onlookers, and the silence was almost unbelievable as Carissa and Paul walked slowly through the streets of the beautifully decorated town. Carissa saw their
three children in the care of Belva Townsend, who'd volunteered to watch them during the pageant.

A huge electric star hung over the vacant lot beside the town hall where the false-fronted inn was located. But Carissa looked heavenward and nudged Paul to call his attention to the glittering star, millions of light years away, that hovered in the sky above Yuletide. It seemed to her that the star's radiance was a sign of approval of what they were doing tonight. Yuletide had indeed reclaimed Christmas. But had she?

 

Carissa and Paul were taken by the innkeeper to the stable, and after a short interval, Carissa appeared with the live baby in her arms. It was the first time she'd ever held one. The soft, cuddly infant felt strange, just as it must have felt for Mary when cradling her firstborn. Holding the baby gave Carissa an insight into what she'd missed by not bearing children. Perhaps she'd been wrong in her decision, but if she'd had a family of our own, she probably wouldn't be in a position to help the Garners. If God did indeed control the destiny of His creations, perhaps He'd kept her maternal longings bottled until this particular time for a reason.

As she sat beside Paul and waited for the remaining participants to find their places around the manger, Carissa thought of Zechariah and Elizabeth, the parents of John the Baptist. Elizabeth had been barren until long past the time for childbearing.

Although Zechariah and Elizabeth were righteous and kept God's commands blamelessly, they'd had no children. In Jewish culture barrenness was usually considered a curse for sin—a sign of God's disfavor. This childlessness must have been a lifelong disappointment. No doubt, they had prayed daily for a son and couldn't understand why God's answer was no.

But God intervened in their lives. Elizabeth had a son, John, who was destined to be the prophet who would prepare people for the coming of the Messiah. Their prayer was answered; their disgrace was wiped away in God's time. To be the parents of a prophet was a privilege greater than if they'd had a houseful of children.

Carissa was caught up in the pageantry. The way Paul squeezed her hand, when the shepherds appeared and bowed before the manger where she'd laid the child, she was sure he was experiencing the same emotions. A hidden choir sang “O Come Let Us Adore Him” during the adoration of the shepherds.

After the departure of the shepherds, the Wise Men came, their arrival heralded by the lyrics of “We Three Kings.”

At the stroke of midnight, the crowds that had converged around the stable in the final moments of the pageant began to disperse. The mother came to reclaim her baby, and even though the manger was empty, Carissa had an uncontrollable urge to kneel beside that crude wooden structure. Yuletide had
found the meaning of Christmas and so had she. Tears stung her eyelids when Paul knelt beside her and hugged her close to him.

Although she'd often doubted that she was where God wanted her to be spiritually, she knew now that she'd never forgotten what she'd learned that Christmas many years ago in Minnesota. Without Jesus in one's life, there was no meaning in Christmas. God had sent His Son to earth not to stay as a baby to be worshiped, but to die for the sins of humankind. Without the death and resurrection of Jesus, Christmas would never be commemorated, for there would be nothing to celebrate. The baby in the manger would have been forgotten long ago without Christ's death on the cross.

Had God been working in her life all along to prepare her to become the mother of the Garner children? It was difficult for Carissa to consider that God would single her out for this role. But she considered that as one of God's children, she had been chosen to carry out His purpose. She perceived the eternal truth that God wanted to give her every desire that was in line with His will for her life. Like Zechariah and Elizabeth, she only had to wait for the right time.

Once and for all, Carissa committed her life to God's Son. “Whatever Your will for my life, God, I accept it,” she murmured aloud. “Please provide daily guidance on the path I should take.”

Paul must have heard her words, for his grip tightened around her waist.

“God,” he prayed quietly. “I, too, want to draw closer to you, make you an integral part of my life. You've given me the answer to many things these past few weeks, but I'm still uncertain of other decisions I need to make. My heart guides me onto a certain path that I don't think I can take. Don't I trust You enough for the future? Why can't I leave my life in Your hands? Please remove the veil of my uncertainty and show me Your way.”

He knew what he wanted to do—but was it practical to do so? How could he quit his job and take on a family of four without the means to support them? No doubt Carissa had all the money they'd ever need, but he wanted to do his share. Paul had peace in his heart about his spiritual security, but the immediate future was still uncertain as he assisted Carissa to her feet.

“Come, my dear,” he said. “It's been a long night. Let's go home.”

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to have the four walls of the house surround him, Carissa and the children.

 

Caught up in the excitement of the pageant, Paul had forgotten about the man who'd been watching the house. But long after Carissa and the children were asleep, he was awake, trying to make difficult decisions. Walking around his room in the dark, he chanced to look out the window. The security light's
faint rays revealed a man standing again in the spruce trees.

“Enough is enough,” Paul muttered. In the darkness, he struggled into his outdoor clothes, and without telling Carissa, he slipped out the back door. He had to approach the man from behind, and that meant crossing the road at some point. Using his flashlight sparingly, he walked a half mile north of the house, keeping under cover of the evergreen trees. When he was out of sight of the house, he crossed the road to the lake path. Walking quietly, he maneuvered toward the grove of spruce trees.

The man was leaning against a tree. As Paul neared, he jerked up his head and started running. With one big leap, Paul caught the man by the arm.

“No, buddy,” he said. “You don't get away that easily. Why have you been watching our home?”

Paul became aware that the arm he held was scrawny and that the man was trembling. Compassionately, he said, “Come on into the garage. It's warmer in there, and we can talk.”

The man didn't answer, nor did he resist Paul's iron grip, but Paul held tightly to his arm while they crossed the road and entered the garage. There were no garage windows facing the house, so he wouldn't disturb Carissa. He turned on the light because he wanted a look at his captive. Once inside, Paul released the man, who crumpled to the floor.

Frightened, Paul felt for a pulse, which he found readily enough. The man was a rack of bones—
whether from illness or malnutrition, he couldn't tell. After scrutinizing the unconscious man's face, Paul picked him up and carried him upstairs. The stranger was unshaven, but his clothes were clean enough, so Paul laid him on the couch. He raised the thermostat, and heat had already filled the room by the time he'd brewed some coffee. The man was stirring when Paul returned to the couch, and he shielded his eyes from the light.

Paul heard static on the intercom from the house. Carissa must have seen the lights.

“Paul,” her frightened voice called.

“I'm all right,” he answered. “I can't talk to you now, but please believe me, I'm in no danger. Go back to bed. We'll talk in the morning.”

Sounding unconvinced, she said, “All right.”

Since Paul had been taking his meals with Carissa and the children, there wasn't much to eat in his apartment. He found a half loaf of bread in the refrigerator, so he took two slices, toasted and buttered them. He carried the food to the table beside the sofa.

The man was sitting now, his head in his hands.

“Here, drink the coffee and eat some bread.”

Without meeting Paul's gaze, the man lifted the coffee mug to his lips with shaking hands. He ate the bread hungrily. Pitying the man, Paul sat opposite him and watched. He supposed he was foolish to bring the man into the apartment. It was no wonder Carissa was worried. For all he knew, the man might
have a gun. At least Carissa and the children wouldn't be at risk in the main house.

When the man finished, still not looking at Paul, he said, “Thank you.”

“Well, let's have it,” Paul said. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“Keith Garner. I'm looking for my kids.”

“It's a little late for you to be worrying about that, isn't it, Mr. Garner?” He wasn't surprised at the revelation, for Alex bore a marked resemblance to the man.

Keith Garner's haggard face flushed.

“How did you find out where they were?”

“A cousin of mine is the custodian in the sheriff's office in Aberdeen. I went back to town, not knowing my wife had died. I was beside myself when I learned the kids had run away. How did they get this far, and why did you and your wife take them in?”

“The lady isn't my wife.” And at Keith Garner's stunned expression, he quickly explained why Carissa was living in the house. Paul briefly told him how they'd discovered the children in Naomi's house, and gave a brief rundown of how and why they'd run away. “What kind of a man are you that you'd desert your family and leave your children to cope with their dying mother?”

“I'm the kind of man who is more harm than good to them,” he said bitterly. He pulled up his shirt-sleeves and revealed the evidence of multiple needle marks in his arms. “It started out with alcohol and
mild drugs when I was a teenager, then I started using the hard stuff. I'd steal my wife's money to buy drugs, and I finally left, knowing she and the kids would be better off without me.”

Paul was angry at the man, but he detected remorse in his eyes. He could heap a lot of recriminations on Keith Garner for his neglect, but he suspected he couldn't say anything the man hadn't already said to himself.

“I've been in and out of a lot of rehab places, and they'd dry me out for a while. Then, I'd find a job and send some money to my family. I'd send it to my cousin and he'd take it to them as if he was providing it. I hoped they'd think I was dead, and I wish I was. The kids would be better off.”

“Julie doesn't even remember you, but Lauren and Alex think you're still alive. You must talk to them.”

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