A Log Cabin Christmas (53 page)

She should stop him. She should hold firm to her resolution. She had a calling she couldn’t ignore.

Then he gathered her close, and despite everything her head was telling her, she went into his arms willingly. His lips came down on hers, so soft and warm, drawing a response from her that sapped her strength and infused her with feelings so strong she thought she might cry. Her arms entwined about his neck, and she allowed him to crush her to his chest.

So, this was love….

Reality hit her like the whiplash of a snowy branch to the face.

She struggled, and he immediately loosened his hold. His chest heaved as if he’d run a long distance.

“Todd, I’m so sorry.” She put her gloved fingertips to her lips where she could still feel of his kiss. “I should never have let that happen. Please, forgive me.”

“Beth, you’ve nothing to apologize for. You felt it, didn’t you? You have to know I love you, and you feel something for me. I know you do. You can quit all this nonsense about us not courting.” He grinned. “I knew we were meant for each other the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Aghast at what she’d done, what she’d allowed to happen, she stepped back, floundering in the snow. “No, Todd. Please. We’re not meant for each other. I can’t let myself be in love with you. I’m sorry!” She flung the last words over her shoulder as she turned to get away from him, to outrun her conscience and her mother’s words.

“You’ll make a perfect pastor’s wife, someday, Beth. You were born to it.”

Tears blinded her vision, but she didn’t stop until she reached her cabin.

H
ow could she have been so foolish as to let her guard down and fall in love with someone she
knew
wasn’t right for her? Beth asked herself that question a hundred times throughout a sleepless night. Scratchy-eyed and with nerves bare and twanging, she managed to fix breakfast for Grandpa.

“How are the preparations? Will you be all set for the service tonight?”

She dished up his eggs and ham and set his plate before him. “We’ll be ready. Just the dress rehearsal to manage.”

“You were awfully late getting in last night. I’m sorry I dozed off. I should’ve walked up to the church for you. You didn’t walk home alone, did you?”

Not alone. Not really. Not all the way. “I was fine, Grandpa. One of the men walked me most of the way home.” She dug in the cupboard for the flour and molasses. “I’ve got ten dozen cookies to bake before tonight. Gingerbread with icing. I best get cracking.” If she could fill her mind with all the details of the program, maybe she could stop thinking about what a fool she’d been.

“Ten dozen? Who else is bringing treats?”

Beth sorted through her spices until she found the ginger. “No one. I’ve got it under control. Mary Kate is bringing the cider, but it was easier to do the cookies myself. Sophie offered to bring her fruitcake.” Her lips twitched. Grandpa had been the recipient of more than one of those chewy bricks when on visitation.

He grunted and finished his ham. “Cookies will be good, but don’t you think you should’ve spread it around a little? You’re doing so much. There are lots of good folks in the church who are willing and able to help you out. Though I’m glad we’re not having fruitcake tonight.”

“Sometimes it’s just easier to do it myself.”

“Maybe, though I don’t see how taking on so much yourself is easier. Easier doesn’t always mean better.”

She dropped a kiss on his head as she passed behind him to take down her mixing bowls. “You do talk nonsense sometimes. Easier is always better.”

After spending the morning baking and the early afternoon spreading icing on dozens of cookies, trying all the while not to think about Todd and what she would say to him when they met again, rehearsal time loomed. Beth mustered every ounce of courage she possessed to force herself to walk into the church.

Happy faces greeted her, along with the aroma of pine needles. “Here she is.” Mr. Hampton came forward, took the box she carried, and breathed deeply. “Gingerbread? My favorite.”

She scanned the small crowd, but Todd wasn’t there. Strangely, her heart didn’t calm. Here she’d hoped to get the first awkwardness behind them, and he wasn’t even there. Guilt clawed up her chest and smothered her racing heart. Her foolishness had sent him all the wrong signals, and now he couldn’t face her. Not only would she not have a chance to apologize, but if he stayed away, who would play Joseph in the pageant, and who would anchor the bass section of the choir? Had she ruined the service by failing to control her feelings?

“Honey, are you all right?” Sophie patted Beth’s arm. “You look a little … distracted. I’m sure you must’ve worked too hard making all those cookies.”

“I’m fine, really. Everything’s under control.” She shrugged out of her coat and bonnet and smoothed her hair. “All right, folks. How about we all get into our places, and we’ll run straight through the service without any stops. Let’s see if we can make it mistake free.”

The door behind her opened, sending a gust of cool air swirling through the room. Beth whirled to see who had arrived, hopeful and fearful that it would be Todd.

Those hopes and fears were confirmed. Todd stood in the doorway, the trunk of a pine tree over his shoulder and a rope in his other hand. “Sorry I’m late. Can someone give me a hand?”

Beth froze. She’d thought she was prepared to see him again, prepared to be an adult, to apologize as soon as the situation afforded an opportunity, and move on. But she’d been wrong. She wasn’t prepared at all.

Her knees went a bit wobbly, and she grabbed the back of the closest pew while several men hurried by to help with the Christmas tree. They dragged the pine up the aisle and set it up in the corner, chattering and laughing.

Todd remained by the open door, talking to someone outside. Beth did a quick head count. No one was missing. Who could he be talking with? If whoever it was would go away, perhaps she could talk to Todd in private before the rehearsal got started. She’d just peek and find out who it was.

A strange sound stopped her midstride. Todd flicked a glance over his shoulder and pulled on the rope in his hand. The sound occurred again, preceding a black face and a pair of marble-like eyes. Four hooves and a mass of wool.

Her jaw dropped. “Wha—” She gulped. “What is that?”

Todd’s eyebrows rose. “It’s a sheep. Goldenrod, to be specific. I told you last night I had another surprise for you.” He patted the animal’s shaggy head. “Don’t you think she’ll add authenticity to the stable scene? I borrowed her from Anders Granderson’s kids. They keep her as a pet, and she’s as gentle as”—he shrugged, a grin teasing his lips—“a lamb.” He led the ewe a few more steps into the church and shut the door on the cold afternoon air.

Beth tugged at her lower lip and studied the sheep. The ladies in the cast and choir huddled together, whispering and frowning. “I don’t know, Todd. A live sheep?” His name slipped out easily. At least the animal had managed to break the ice between them—though Todd didn’t seem to be out of sorts at all.

“Don’t you think the kids will like it?” His eyes held a challenge as if to ask if she was going to let personal feelings interfere with the reason for the service.

Her chin went up, and she folded her arms at her waist. “Be my guest. Just remember, you’re the one who will need to clean up after the animal.” If he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, that was fine by her.

Todd led Goldenrod up to the stage. The animal let out a single bleat and folded her legs to subside in a gentle heap on the straw under the stable overhang. She looked bored with the proceedings. Perhaps all would be well after all. Certainly a sheep would entertain the children.

“All right, folks. Let’s start from the top. Straight through just as if this was the final performance. Don’t stop, even if something goes wrong.” Beth sat at the piano and began the soft opening strains of “Silent Night.” Perfectly on cue, the choir came in. She smiled and nodded. Sweet harmony filled the church, and she could almost see the happy faces of the children beaming in the candlelight. The choir continued into “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” without a pause.

Billy Mather stepped to the pulpit and opened his Bible while the nativity players donned their rudimentary costumes and took their places. A quick peek at Goldenrod—eyes closed, slowly grinding her cud. Any minute now, the ewe might begin to snore. At Beth’s nod, Billy began reading from Luke chapter two. Todd knelt beside Mary Kate and the manger, and Sophia and two of her friends in white robes held their arms up when Billy got to the part about the angels appearing to the shepherds. Mr. Hampton and Clive, dressed as shepherds complete with crooked staffs, moved from near the piano to crowd into the stable area to see the Baby Jesus. Everything was subdued with Billy’s voice the only sound in the room.

Beth, from her position on the piano bench, couldn’t have been more pleased. Not one single stoppage of the program, no arguments, no suggestions, no helpful advice. The dress rehearsal was unfolding nothing like the previous practices, where she couldn’t seem to get any continuity for the interruptions. Everything was all coming together. Billy read slowly, as if savoring the story, just the way she’d asked him to, giving the players time to move without seeming rushed, which would allow the audience time to soak in the sights and sounds.

Billy closed his Bible after the last verse, and solemnly, the cast stepped onto the risers beside the piano. Time for the finale. She poised her hands over the keys, meeting the eyes of her singers, asking them to give this closing song their very best. Determination glinted in each expression. She raised her wrists and crashed down on the opening chord as the choir launched into “Joy to the World.” The sound was loud and joyful, nearly deafening her with their enthusiasm.

A very
un
-joyful noise erupted from the stable area, drowning out the choir, who stumbled to a halt. Beth’s hands faltered on the keys, adding several sour notes to the cacophony. The plank ceiling of the stable rocked, creaked, and disappeared downward with a crash. Necks twisted and craned, and a look of horror shot over the faces of the back row of the choir. Beth was halfway up off the bench when a wool-covered tornado plowed into the singers, sending shepherds’ crooks, angels’ halos, and sopranos’ songbooks skyward.

Mary Kate screamed and threw herself into Mr. Hampton’s arms. Together they toppled into the bare Christmas tree. Sophia fainted. Fortunately Clive was able to grab her and ease her to the floor. Billy lunged for the rope dangling behind Goldenrod, swinging wildly but coming up empty. Todd leaped after the wooly beast, but she bounded away from him straight toward Beth.

Beth scrambled backward to avoid the onrushing sheep and stumbled. Her foot caught on the edge of the piano drape and dragged it half off the instrument and right onto Goldenrod’s head. Beth tumbled to the ground, smacking her backside on the puncheon floor and toppling backward against the log wall.

The candles and holly wreath went flying, and Goldenrod—seemingly enraged by the red cloth now enveloping her—went entirely berserk. Bleating and crying, she dashed here and there, plowing into people, pews, and party decorations. In seconds the church was in shambles, and Beth could only sit and watch as her carefully erected plans exploded.

Mary Kate continued to emit scream after scream. Choir members huddled and scattered according to their personalities, and through it all Todd and Billy ran and dodged, shouted and pointed, trying to corner the demented sheep long enough to at least drag the piano drape off her head.

The final coup de grâce occurred when Goldenrod managed to shake loose from the cloth and, looking for a target for her rage, barreled into the refreshment table. Jugs of cider, a punch bowl, ranks of punch cups, and ten dozen icedgingerbread cookies defied gravity and hovered in midair before plummeting to the floor in a cinnamon-spicy, glass-shard-inducing crash.

The sheep skidded to a halt, wheeled, and lowered her head to charge in another direction. Before she could move, Todd pounced on her and brought her to the floor near the door, where Billy caught up to them and added his weight to the kicking ewe. He wrapped his arms around her legs while Todd leaned on her neck.

Thus subdued, Goldenrod gave one last bleat and stopped squirming. This turn of events did nothing to stop Mary Kate’s screams, though the rest of the choir seemed to relax a fraction and stop contemplating climbing to the rafters for safety.

Beth blinked, ran her hand over her eyes, and stared at the disaster. “What happened?” she shouted to Todd over Mary Kate’s screams.

“I think we scared her.” His reply seemed a bit strangled.

“Of course she’s scared. A sheep just launched herself into the middle of the choir.” Beth rounded the piano and patted Mary Kate on the arm. What she’d really like to do is clap her hand over that mouth and muffle the shrieks. The danger had subsided. It was time for Mary Kate to quit peeling bark off the walls with her ear-piercing wails. Beth pushed herself up and headed toward the pile of men and wool on the floor near the door.

Billy choked and snorted and then gave up the fight, collapsing into laughter. Todd grimaced and appeared to be trying to hold it in, but he, too, lost the battle. His loud guffaws echoed off the log walls and nearly lifted the rafters. “I meant”—he managed between bouts of laughter—“that we scared the sheep.”

A river of sticky-sweet cider raced toward them, carrying soggy gingerbread cookies like life rafts on a current. Snatching up the piano drape, Beth stemmed the flow. The fabric darkened as it soaked up the beverage.

From her position by the door, Beth assessed the damage while trying to hold on to her temper. Christmas carnage greeted her eyes everywhere she looked. Praying for patience, she tried to hold back the wave of despair building in her chest.

“Enough!” Beth spat the word at Mary Kate, who had just sucked in another enormous breath, ready to let loose another screech. Mary Kate swallowed her scream with a hiccup. “The animal is subdued. There is no reason to go on with your hysterics. Pull yourself together.” She rounded on Todd and Billy, who still laughed uncontrollably, pinning Goldenrod to the floor. “You, too. Stop laughing. It’s not funny. Todd Rambek, this is all your fault. You brought that beast in here deliberately to ruin my Christmas service. After all my hard work.”

The sob she had tried to quell forced its way up her throat and past her clenched teeth. Horrified at losing control, she stumbled outside, slamming the door on the debacle.