A Merry Little Christmas (19 page)

“I can’t do that.” Couldn’t he see all that she had to do, and all of it weighing like a two-hundred-pound barbell on her shoulders? “There’s so much to get done for our early Christmas morning, and Vi’s asked our pastor to come and I need to make sure to take enough sausage and bacon from the freezer to thaw for our big traditional breakfast, and—”

“Shh.” He brushed his lips to the side of her cheek.

That
wasn’t
a kiss, Amanda, she told herself. It was just an accidental touch, since they were so close and he was walking her to the table.

She dug in her heels, stopping their progress. “I have to sort through the clean clothes in the laundry room I haven’t folded yet, and get things ready for Jessie. I have to pack. I have to get her favorite books, make a list…that’s what I need to do, so I don’t forget what’s important to her—”

“Fine. You can make a list right now.” With deft pressure, he got her moving forward again. “You drink some tea and make a list. I’ll do the rest.”

“No, this is beyond the call of a good neighbor, Colt. And I’m uncomfortable with pity and I don’t want to be your charitable cause. Don’t get me wrong, what you’ve done for us is just short of a miracle come true, because I’ve been so alone—”

Stop Amanda, now, before you spill your entire heart. How humiliating would that be? Very.

She snuffled in a breath past the sorrow balling up in her throat like tears. “You need to go home now. It’s late, and it’s not proper for you to be here.”

“That’s a good excuse to get rid of me, but it’s not going to work.” He bumped her forward a few more steps and tugged out the closest chair with his foot. “Sit. Rest. Let me help.”

“But, I—”

“This isn’t charity and it isn’t pity and it isn’t good works.” He spoke with authority befitting a successful businessman.

Her knees weakened and she found herself in the chair.

He gave a half smile as he pulled a second chair for her to put her feet on. She was too awestruck to protest. Too awestruck to do much of anything but watch as he poured a cup of tea from the kettle simmering on the warmer and served it with honey and the pen and notepad she kept by the phone.

“Write,” he instructed and went to tackle the dishes.

Her vision was blurry again. She blinked hard, holding down her feelings. Staying in control. The angel hovering on the treetop blurred into a soft iridescent glow.

She felt for her mother’s cross, taking comfort in the warm familiar gold and the symbolism behind it. Over two thousand years ago when the world was so dark and cold, a child had been born. A Savior, who gave His life for mankind so that everyone who believed in Him, adult or child, large or small, through all time would have eternal life. A saving light in the hopeless dark.

“You’re crying.” Colt’s calming baritone against her ear. The pads of his thumbs rubbing away the damp on her cheeks.

She hadn’t been aware of his approach. Or of him kneeling before her. She was aware of him now.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. “Anything. Just name it.”

“If you do one more thing for me, you’re going to win my heart for eternity.”

He paused, no emotion showed on his face. “Maybe you should open your present, Amanda.”

“My what?”

“I wanted to give it to you when we were alone.” He produced a small gift and set it on the table in front of her. “We’re alone.”

Were they. Although Vi was one room away, it was hard to be aware of anyone or anything, not even the store-wrapped present faintly reflecting the pulse of the tree lights. All Amanda could see and feel was the heart of this man, stalwart and kind.

Remember, you can’t keep falling in love with him, Amanda. He is not yours to keep. “You’re being too nice again.”

“I told you, I’m not nice. I’m a dedicated, workaholic businessman. Ruthless.”

“You’re not ruthless.”

“Okay, that’s true. But let’s just say you and your kids have inspired me to be better. A better man. A better Christian. Better at everything.” He laid his hand against the curve of her face, gazing into her eyes as if he could see her soul.

You’re reading too much into this, Amanda. She felt her soul stir, her spirit lighten, her heart fill with hope she had no right to.

“Open it.” He didn’t remove his hand or break the bond of their gaze. “Please.”

Her fingers tugged at the bow, and it gave her something to do, something to look at and think about other than the man kneeling before her. The gold foil ribbon became a golden smear as her eyes began to smart.

No more tears, Amanda. But she couldn’t seem to stop them. Couldn’t stanch the flow of emotion rising through the shadows and the fear, until suddenly the paper had fallen away and a small, hand-carved jewel box stared up at her.

On the lid, inlaid in opal, was the silhouette of a mother and a small daughter, kneeling toward one another, heads bowed together, hands clasped in prayer.

“I saw it and thought of you,” he said.

“It’s p-perfect.” The only words she could manage before the first tear fell. The only tear she would allow to fall. There was no stopping the turn of the world spinning on its axis, no stopping the seconds slipping past like water through her fingers.

“I have been praying for a miracle for so long now, I’m numb from clasping my hands. Hoarse from uttering the same plea over and over. The thing about God is that He might not answer my prayers at all, but every time I’m out of strength, out of hope, out of mercy, goodness comes into my life. Ed and Vi offer me their vacation house and a job in their shop. The community church starts a fund drive for Jessie’s medical bills. And now you, as if you were heaven-sent.”

“Hardly heaven-sent. How do you do it? This is what amazes me about you. Your daughter is terminally ill and you are unwavering in your belief. Most people would be angry with God for allowing a nice little girl to suffer like this, maybe turn their backs on Him. But you…I’m awed by you.”

She was cracking apart, her shell brittle as an uncooked egg, and his words, his regard tapped at the cracks. Mortal blows. “You have no idea. I’m drowning, going down for the third time. And my faith? It’s not unwavering.” She studied the tree angel casting her gracious light. “It’s just that I have nothing else left.”

His touch never wavered. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve run out of faith long ago. I feel as if I’m just groping my way through an endless dark. Lost. But I have to keep believing. It’s all I have. Because that’s my child in there, the heart of my heart. And if there is no miracle, if she runs out of time on this earth and no prayer will keep her here, then the only way I can let her go is trusting in His promise. I have to believe that she will be carried in the arms of an angel to heaven and she won’t be alone.”

Colt felt bleakness wash through her and into him. And her only hope, her stark truth of faith, paralyzed him. A supernova of certainty blazed to life within him. Certainty and too many layers of love to name brightened until he felt overshadowed.

“I have to go sit with my little one.” Amanda rose, darting away from his comfort. “Thank you, Colt. For everything.”

And she was gone, leaving him in the light-shadows of the Christmas tree blinking from the other room. He knelt in a shadowed dark, but for the first time he could see clearly.

The faint hint of moonlight struggled pale and opalescent through the closed miniblinds. He didn’t know what compelled him to go to the window to witness the black mantle of clouds beginning to rip apart, snow still tumbling from the heavens. A small slice of moonlight dared to glow on the backs of the falling flakes and the darkly stretching reaches of the snow-covered forest.

It felt silent and sacred, and Colton could almost see the brush of angels’ wings in the breaking storm.

H
eaven felt so far away.

Amanda watched her daughter sleep, feeling claws sinking deep into her heart. Claws of hopelessness and powerlessness. She could not stop the night from slipping away, second by second, minute by minute. Hour by hour.

Help me to handle this, Lord.
She was shredded on the inside, a slow steady bleed of pain that was gaining momentum. Soon it would be powerful enough to wash her away like a flash flood. Her daughter needed hope, and Amanda was all out of it. Her daughter needed belief, and all Amanda had was the dog-eared Bible in her lap, full of wisdom and promises and reassurance she could not feel through the agony.

For my child’s sake, please guide me. I’m not strong enough to do this alone.

No answer. Heaven was definitely too far away.

Vi padded into the room, a steaming mug of tea in hand. “I left yours in the kitchen. Take a break. Get something to eat. It’ll be dawn soon, and the kids will be up.”

And there were more presents to put under the tree before then. Wordlessly, Amanda rose to her feet. She backed toward the door, watching as Vi settled into the bedside chair to keep watch. At the threshold, Amanda paused. The next step would take Jessie from sight and it felt like ripping her heart out.

Please help, angels.
She waited, gathering strength but no strength came. She’d been up all night, and the exhaustion of it settled on her mortal being like an impossible weight.

No help came.

Jessie slept, as relaxed as a rag doll in her new bunny pajamas. One arm was wrapped around Brittany Bunny, the other around her new doll. How sweet. Amanda had spent most of the night memorizing her daughter’s dearness, her red-gold curls, her button nose, her cherub’s face, trying to record in her memory the way Jessie gave a hum now and then in her dreams.

Amanda filled with equal part unconditional love, equal part suffocating grief. She felt that today, moving her into a hospital bed, would be the first step toward losing her.
We’re almost out of time, Lord. Out of time for a miracle and for hope. I’m running out of time to be with her. Please, stop the dawn from coming.

Another impossible prayer, she knew, but it didn’t stop her from asking just the same. She was so over her limit, so out of everything. She choked down a sob, refusing to let it escape. She
would
hold it together. She
would.
Somehow. For her children’s sake.

She wrenched away from the doorway and went in search of the promised tea. Sure enough, there it was, steaming on the table next to the small jewel box Colt had given her.

Colt. His words came back to her, and the sincere note in his baritone seemed burned into her soul.
Your daughter is terminally ill and you are unwavering in your belief.
What was on the surface hid the struggle inside. Even this morning when it did not seem as if her prayers could possibly be heard, she was still holding her Bible with both hands, needing the tangible proof of a promise she could no longer feel.

Colt. She stumbled to her feet, feeling his nearness even before she saw the sudden flash of headlights lumbering around the corner of her driveway. A tiny light of hope sparked to life within her. He’d left last night after cleaning the kitchen and, sensibly, she thought that was the last she’d see of him.

All night long, a foolish part of her wished he’d be here with the sunrise.

No wishing allowed, Amanda. If she had to wish, she would save it for her daughter. Besides, Colt was a neighbor and a friend—nothing more. He’d given her no reason to think otherwise. She had to be realistic, even when her heart ached with wonder at the sight of him climbing out of his cab in the inky darkness.

He was barely visible against his black truck, shadow upon shadow, but she sensed him moving closer as if her spirit turned toward his, like the stars faced the north pole, bound by a force she would not name. She would
not
give name to the affection rising through her like dawn. It would be easier to ignore that way. Easier to control, push back down and deny.

Colt. There he was at the door. She could see him through the window over the sink. As if he felt her presence, his gaze found hers with pinpoint accuracy. Her love for him brightened a notch.

She fumbled with the door without realizing she’d crossed the room, letting Colt in with the cold. The first thing she saw was the huge box he carried in both arms. Unbelievable.

“Surprise,” his baritone rumbled tenderly.

That had to be her imagination, right? The box he carried looked full of presents; a faint gleam of an edge of a ribbon and the curve of a bow confirmed it. He ambled through the half dark toward the tree, lights out, angel shadowed.

“I think Jeremy was right.” She shut the door and trailed after him, whispering. “You have to be a superhero. Don’t tell me you deliver presents around the world, too.”

“This is my first stop.” He lowered the box to the living room floor. “I thought I’d see how it goes here, and if it’s successful, I’ll branch out. What can I say? Jeremy inspired me.”

“You do look a lot like Wonder Boy in this light.”

“Wow. Too bad my cape’s at the dry cleaner.”

They both managed a smile at the line that had started all this between them. Then she backed away, just a step, but created distance just the same.

Colt battled down the urge to reach across the distance she’d created and draw her into his arms. To hold her safe and show her how he meant for things to be from now on. That he would shoulder the burdens that drew sadness into her lovely face. That he was her rock, her support, no matter what, for the rest of his days.

Before he could move closer, she knelt to study the contents of one of the boxes, moving away, but only delaying the inevitable.

“I told you that you’ve done more than enough already, right?” Affection—he was sure that’s what it was—brightened her soft alto.

His love for her intensified and he was eclipsed by the power of it. Pure and brilliant and perfect, and it shone through him as he knelt, the box between them. How did he begin to put his enduring love for her into words? Any word would be inadequate.

“You know what I said, right? That if you do one more thing for us, you’re going to win my respect for eternity.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” He withdrew the envelope from his coat pocket. “You said that I’d win your heart.”

You already have. And all the layers from top to bottom. She ducked her chin, shielding her face from him. Amanda, you cannot fall any further in love with this man.

It was not the material things he’d brought them. What captivated her, what made her adore him beyond the reaches of her heart, was his goodness. It shone through him like the stars through the galaxy. Every second that passed, every minute that ticked by, she loved him more.

Amanda, you have to stop this, right now. But it was like ripping out a part of her as she climbed to her feet and retreated to the kitchen. She was already dangerously perched on the edge, and any kind word from him, a touch, a smile, a look, that’s all it would take to topple her right off into lifelong, honest devotion to this man. This was so not what she needed right now.

Think about your daughter, she commanded. Don’t wonder what it would be like if he miraculously loved you back. That would be impossible.

Do something, do anything. She grabbed the notepad with her packing list. Maybe she could get started, quietly, on a few of these things, without waking up the kids. As for Colt—

He’d lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper. “This is an e-mail from one of the top P.I. firms in the Southwest. I hired them to help Ed’s friend find Jessie’s father. It says here they’ve picked up his trail in El Paso and they’re hopeful. And this—” he pulled out a check “—this is for Jessie.”

Amanda stared at the check. It was made out to her and signed, but the amount was left blank. That couldn’t be right. No one writes a blank check.

Some cog in her brain stopped working and she couldn’t make her thoughts move forward. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t blink.

This could not be real. It simply couldn’t be.

“You fill in the amount. Whatever that is ought to cover everything she needs.” He pressed the check into her grasp.

The to-do list she carried, flat against the cover of her Bible, was now mostly covered by a check.
A blank check.
The cog stuck in her brain didn’t move.

Her heart did, plummeting to the soles of her feet. He’d given her money. Money for Jessie. But, but, but, she thought, her mind still stuck in place.
But
a charity hospital would probably cover the costs of a transplant.
But
there had to be a donor who matched first.
But
this meant Jessie had a fighting chance.

The check blurred into a smear of black ink. Her heart was still grounded. This is hope, her mind told her. This is a sign. Maybe this is a turning point. Maybe Todd can be found. Maybe he’s a match. Maybe Jessie will recover and have eighty more Christmases, each happier than the last. Hallelujah.

But her heart remained defeated. How on earth can that be? Nothing mattered more than her children. So why did the check feel like another difficult loss?

She recognized the name on the check. Colton Nichols. Nichols Industries. Colt wasn’t just a successful businessman who lived five driveways down. He was a millionaire a hundred times over. If she paid more attention to the local gossip and probably to news in general, she would have known it was him, right off.

But her world had been reduced to providing for her children and caring for ill little Jessie. She wasn’t even sure what the day’s date was, only that today she had to pack her child’s things for a long hospital stay. Maybe her last hospital stay. Or, maybe the money would make no difference in the end.
Oh, I do hope it will,
she prayed.

But, irrationally, it was as if all the starlight had died in the sky. As if the promise of dawn would never come. And that made no sense at all. She heard the sob rip from her throat but it felt disembodied, as if from someone else far away, someone in terrible agony.

His warm hands cupped her chin, cradled her face. Big, engulfing, capable hands that made the deepest part of her spirit brighten, impossibly, with a love she could not allow.

His eyes glowed dark, locking on hers, probing deep as if he needed to see into her very soul. “This may not be able to save your child. I know that. But this way, you don’t have to worry. Not about insurance paying or not paying. Not about co-pays or deductibles. Not about finding Todd. If you do, then not worrying about the logistics of getting Jessie’s transplant paid for.”

I can’t take anymore, she thought. Another sob tore up from the deepest places within her. She couldn’t take any more kindness, any more glimpses of hope, any more threats of despair. What she couldn’t do was to stop the love she felt for this man—this faithful, bighearted man—from flaming to life like a new star burning until it eclipsed all else until there was only an endless, soul-deep devotion and admiration for him.

This is only charity.
Only
—and yet it was everything. A chance for Jessie. A partly answered prayer.

Not love.

Well, she thought as she struggled to hold on to her heartbreak and her hope in the same breath. She’d known that all along, right? All that mattered was Jessie. It’s all that mattered, from the top to the bottom of her soul. So, her feelings made no sense at all.

“I’ll a-always b-be—” She was crying, sobbing out the words. “G-grateful.”

“This comes with no strings attached.” He didn’t let go of her, holding her so she could not escape.

Didn’t he know that his words were another cut to her heart? “I kn-know. You’re a g-good man, C-Colton Nichols.”

“Not even close. And with that said, there’s something I want you to know. I’m staying. I’ll run my business from here. I might have to take a few trips back to L.A., but I can do most things here. What I will not do is to let you go through this alone.”

“No, I won’t let you do that.” Not as a friend. “You’ve d-done enough, and I’m p-perfectly capable of handling this—”

“Shh.” He cut her off, moving infinitesimally closer. “I’m not leaving you to face this alone. Or any hardship. Not for the rest of my life.”

She saw it then, the glimpse of his heart, the one she’d never seen before but it was the same blinding light that burned inside of her. How could it be? He didn’t love her, did he? He’d never said anything, he’d never hinted, he’d never been anything less than a gentleman. Which, of course, she realized, he was.

He was showing her now. It was in his touch and in his voice. Blazing like forever in his eyes.

“I am so in love with you, Amanda Richards. I have to ask you a question.”

She felt suspended, gazing up at him, his hands cradling her face. Her mind had gotten stuck again, her heart had taken another tumble. Her entire being stilled as she felt his question. “Y-yes,” she answered.