Holiday Homecoming (11 page)

He dropped his hands from around her waist, and she shivered as much from knowing what she had to say probably wasn't what he wanted to hear as from the loss of his closeness.

Connor helped her with her coat, then adjusted her scarf after she'd buttoned up. “Don't you have a hat?”

“No.” She stood looking up into his face, relishing his tender touch and concern. Tenderness and concern she didn't deserve, but was all too willing to accept.

In one fluid movement, he pulled his ski cap from his pocket and placed it on her head, yanking it down to cover her ears.

“My hair,” she squawked.

“Is beautiful.” He wound a strand around his finger, sending a tremor down her spine when his finger caressed her cheek. “Do you want to stop by the parsonage on your way home? To talk. I could brew us up some coffee or hot chocolate.”

Her and Connor alone at his house? She fingered the button on her coat. The alternative was her parents' house, and she didn't need to feed their penchant for matchmaking. Maybe they could drive to the diner in Schroon Lake.

“I'll behave myself.”

Did he think he was that irresistible? “It's not that.”

Connor grinned.

Well, maybe he was that irresistible. “I...” She fumbled for words, glad for the interrupting buzz of his cell phone.

“Excuse me.” Connor glanced at the screen, his grin fading. He continued reading and texted back before he clicked the phone off and put it in his pocket.

“Is something wrong?”

“That was Gram. She and Harry are at the parsonage. Their furnace isn't working, so they don't have any heat at their house. Harry wanted to wait it out until someone from the burner service could get out to look at it. Gram insisted on coming over to my house. Harry is just getting over a bout with pneumonia, and I have plenty of room for them to stay.”

Connor's step-grandfather, Harry, was well into his eighties. “I wondered why I didn't see him and your grandmother at church service. If you're concerned about my exposing Harry to something, we could go to the diner or my parents' house—or talk another time.” She held her breath. The sooner she said what she needed to say, the better.

“It's not that.” He shuffled his feet like her little nephew, Robbie, did when he was being shy. “I was hoping for a little privacy.”

She slipped her arm in his. “At your house, it's even odds. If we go over to mine, it's four against two.”

“I hadn't looked at it that way.” He walked her to her car. “I'll follow you up to the house,” he said as he closed the car door after her.

Natalie used the five-minute drive from Sonrise to the parsonage to distance herself from the emotions she'd been overwhelmed by the moment before Connor's grandmother had interrupted them. Her relief at knowing she and Connor wouldn't be alone at his house was palpable. Natalie simply couldn't bypass her emotions and think straight when he was near, and she knew only too well the consequences of acting on pure emotion, rather than rational thought. It was a mistake she wasn't going to make again for her sake
and
Connor's.

She let Connor pull into the driveway ahead of her so she'd be able to back out when she left. He parked in the garage and waited in the doorway for her to get out of her car. “I usually go in this way,” he said, waving her in before closing the door and leading her through the garage and up the stairs to the kitchen.

An aroma of chocolate and cinnamon tickled Natalie's nose as she stepped in the room, taking her back to times Connor had driven her home from high school by way of his grandmother's. She'd always had a homemade snack for them and some little job she needed Connor to do. That was when his grandmother was a widow and didn't have Harry to do things for her. But Natalie had always thought the jobs were his grandmother's way of boosting Connor's confidence in the shadow of his two older brothers.

“Natalie, it's so good to see you,” Connor's grandmother said. “I have hot chocolate all made, and I'm warming up some sugar cookies in the oven.”

“It's good to see you, too, Mrs. Stowe.” Natalie slipped out of her coat, and Connor hung it on a hook by the outside door.

“Edna, please. We're all adults.”

“Edna, then.” Natalie watched as Connor strode across the room and snatched a cookie from the pan his grandmother was taking out of the oven.

“Or—” Edna slapped Connor's hand “—most of us are adults. Do you want to have your talk and snack here or in the living room?”

“Here,” Natalie said, before Connor could have a chance to say otherwise. In the kitchen, they'd have the table between them.

“Okay.” Edna poured two mugs of hot chocolate and placed them on the table with a plate of warm cookies. “Harry and I will be in the other room reading if you need anything else.”

Connor leaned over and kissed his grandmother's cheek. “Thanks. We're fine.”

Natalie slipped into one of the chairs at the table, hoping Connor would still think they were fine after she'd had her say. She prayed so.

“When we were texting, I told Gram you and I needed to talk about the pageant.” He sat in the chair across from her.

“Didn't want to give her the wrong idea?” Natalie teased, thinking about her matchmaking family members.

“The pageant is one of the things I want to cover.” He offered her the cookie plate. “These are really good.”

She took one. “As good as Autumn's grandmother's snickerdoodles?”

Connor made a show of glancing furtively at the doorway. “I wouldn't want Gram to hear, but no other cookie is as good as Mrs. Hazard's snickerdoodles. But I didn't bring you home to talk about cookies.”

Natalie's heart did a little flip-flop at the words
bring you home
.

“I talked with my friend from seminary about his offer.” Connor paused, staring into her eyes with an intensity that made her want to look away. “I said I was interested.”

She crushed the sweet cookie between her teeth and swallowed. “Are you sure? I talked with Claire on Sunday. She's positive the Hazardtown Community Church administrative council will renew your contract.” Her heart raced. She had to get out what she'd come to say. “Please don't rearrange your life for me.”

He studied her for what seemed like an eternity.

What if she was wrong about his feelings for her? She squirmed in the hard wooden chair. But his kisses. Connor wouldn't mislead her. Her conscience pricked her.
Like you misled him back in college?
No, Connor wasn't vindictive. He was a man of God. His eyes shone with an intensity that took her breath away. But he was still a man.

“Because you wouldn't for me?” he finally asked.

Natalie didn't know if he meant past or present.

Connor reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “You know I care for you. I always have.”

Care
,
not love
. She sucked in a hard breath. “And I care for you.”

His gentle expression melted her to her core. “I won't make a decision without a lot of thought and prayer. And when I do, it won't be because of anything in the past. It'll be because I feel in my heart it's what God wants for me, for us. And I'll accept His answer.”

Despite all I've done
,
he thinks there's an us
. Natalie pressed the soles of her feet to the floor to control the joy that rippled through her. “Of course,” she agreed once she'd found her voice.

He rubbed her hand with his thumb. “You'll pray, too?”

“I'll pray as hard as I can,” she said softly.
Pray not to do anything to hurt you
,
even if it means I can't be with you
.

Chapter Ten

C
onnor and Hope sang “Away in the Manger” Saturday evening as they walked the short distance from the parsonage to the church.

“Good thing I brought my flashlight,” Hope said, swinging the ray of light in front of them in the dark night. “It used to be Brendon's, but he got a new camping lantern for his birthday.”

Connor smiled to himself. He probably could have walked all the way with his eyes closed. “Yes, I'm glad you brought it. The batteries in mine are dead.”

“You'd better get some more.” She flashed the light around at the trees. “It's dark here, and a little scary. But don't tell Brendon and Ari that. They already think I'm a baby because I like to have a night-light in the bedroom.”

“I'd never.” He hugged the little girl to his side, pricked by envy of his oldest brother and the family he had with Becca. He glanced down at Hope, with her dark hair and a more delicate version of his father's features. If he and Natalie had a daughter, she might look like Hope. He kicked the snow with his boot. What was he thinking? He didn't know where he and Natalie stood. His grandmother had come back in the kitchen the other night shortly after he'd told Natalie he cared for her. Natalie had used the interruption as an excuse to escape. That's the only way to describe her hasty departure. But she had said she cared for him. Only “caring” could mean anything. He cared for a lot of people but didn't love them, not the way he loved Natalie. He should have laid it out and said he loved her. Then she could have accepted or rejected him and he'd know. Even her saying that she didn't care for him the same way he cared for her would be better than the limbo he was in.

Hope pulled on his jacket. “Connor, you're not paying attention.”

“What? I'm sorry.”

“I still think you should have worn your pajamas, like me. I read on the Polar Express website that everyone is supposed to.”

“But I did. I have on my thermal shirt and long johns. I just wore my jeans over them.”

She shook her head. “I don't know. I'll have to see what the other grown-ups have on. You know, I've learned that sometimes you have do things you don't want to get along with others.”

Connor bit his lip so as not to chuckle at his little sister's sage advice and then sobered, thinking of his decision to consider his friend's job offer in Chicago. Had he made the decision because he was interested, or because of the call Natalie had gotten about a possible job there? But she hadn't said any more about it after the call from her agent.

“I'll think I'll be accepted by my peer group,” he said.
Except maybe Natalie.
But she wouldn't be among the parents from the church's couples and singles groups taking the kids to Saratoga Springs for the Polar Express train ride tonight.

“What do you mean
peers
? We haven't had that word on our vocabulary list at school.”

“The other adults, parents. I think I'll be okay with my pajama decision.”
And pray I will with my job decision
.

“If you say so.” Hope's skepticism was obvious. “I wonder who we'll sit with. The website says we'll be assigned seats.”

Hope was a font of information. Connor wondered how much time Jared and Becca let her spend on the internet. She
was
only seven.

“I had Becca go over everything with me this afternoon, so I'd feel more con-fi-dent. That word hasn't been on our vocabulary list, either, but I heard Jared and Becca saying I was becoming more confident, so I asked my teacher what it means.”

Connor's heart went out to the little girl. She'd been through so much, losing her mother and caretaker grandmother, and his father having abandoned her as he had Connor and his mother and brothers. Anyone would be insecure.

“I hope it's someone I know,” Hope said. “Ari and Brendon aren't coming because their uncle, Becca's brother, and cousins are here. Alex and Sophia Hazard are, but they're more Ari's friends than mine. They're a grade ahead of me. I didn't ask anyone at Sunday school, except the big girls, Aimee and Amelia. They were helping Mrs. Hill with my class last Sunday.”

After their stunt at the parsonage decorating, Aimee and Amelia weren't at the top of his list of people to socialize with, although they had gotten him and Natalie together in a way.

Hope chattered on. “They said they weren't coming. They're too big. But they aren't, really. You're bigger than they are and you're coming. Their mom and dad are bringing Robbie. He's little, not in school yet.”

Andie must be feeling better. And Rob must have taken his suggestion that he do more with the kids to take some of the pressure off his wife. Connor hadn't been sure he'd gotten his point across when he'd talked with Rob on Sunday. But Rob had been so worried about Andie and lost as to how to help that he may have only appeared resistant to his counsel.

“I know we'll be seated with someone from church. I got that information when I called the Polar Express ticket office and set up for our group to come. Besides, you get to sit with me. What more could you want?”

“True. You won't get talking to the other grown-ups and forget about me?”

Connor stopped short in front of the door to the church hall and squatted to Hope's level. “Definitely not.” He hugged her. “You're my date. I can't think of anyone who will be on the train ride that I'd rather be with than you.”

* * *

A rap sounded on her bedroom door. “Hurry, Aunt Natalie.”

Mom had said she'd keep Robbie downstairs with her while she got ready. Leave it to Andie to wait until the last possible minute to decide that she and Rob really did have the bug that Robbie had the other week. Natalie threw off her exasperation. She knew Andie and Rob didn't want to disappoint Robbie. Besides, taking the Polar Express again sounded like fun.

“I'm almost ready.” She looked in the mirror with great reservations about her fashion choice. Her sweatshirt was emblazoned with Santa and his sleigh, complete with a red blinking nose on Rudolph. She'd received it as a gag gift at last year's holiday party at the TV station. Robbie had insisted she had to wear her pajamas just like him, and the sweatshirt and green yoga pants were the closest she could come for public display.

“We don't want to be late and miss the train,” Robbie said through the door.

She opened it for him. “We won't miss the train.” She slipped in earrings with Christmas bells that jingled when she moved her head, then dabbed on some red lip gloss.

“I like your pajamas. Does Grandma let you sleep in them with the light flashing?”

Natalie laughed. “No, I can turn the light off.” She pressed the button sewn into the band at the bottom of the shirt.

“My pajamas aren't Christmas pajamas. They're Lego pajamas because I like Legos.”

“So I see. Let's go downstairs and put our boots and coats on so we can get to church for our ride to the train station.”

Since her mother's car was at Hill's garage for servicing, Natalie's father drove them to the church in his truck. Robbie chatted nonstop for the whole fifteen minutes. He was such a little person. Natalie hadn't spent any time with kids since college vacations when she sometimes babysat the twins. Her close work friends, if she could really count any as close, didn't have children. She could see how Andie and her older brother Marc, Claire's twin, got such joy out of being parents. Natalie hadn't thought about having kids of her own since high school...college...since she and Connor were together. She stared out the window at the dark starless night.

“Give me a call when you leave Saratoga,” her father said as he braked to a stop in front of the door to the church hall, “and I'll be here to pick you up. Unless you get a better offer,” he teased.

“Thanks. We might be able to catch a ride home with someone so you don't have to come out again.”

“You could come on the Polar Express, too, Grandpa,” Robbie said as he unbuckled from his booster seat. “We have Daddy's ticket.”

“Thanks, bud, but I need to stay home in case Grandma needs my help.”

Robbie nodded solemnly as he hopped out of the car. “Aunt Natalie and I will tell you all about it when you pick us up.”

“I can't wait to hear.”

“You'll wait up for us?” Robbie asked as Natalie unbuckled and removed his booster seat.

Her father chuckled. “I think we can stay up until eight.”

“You can always rest your eyes in your chair.” Robbie cited her father's favorite euphemism for dozing off in front of the TV.

She opened the door to the church hall for Robbie, welcoming the warmth after the short but bitter cold walk from the car. Robbie danced around beside her as she placed the booster seat along the wall and scanned the room. Her gaze hit Connor like a car skidding into a brick wall. What was he doing here? She wasn't expecting, wasn't prepared, to see him until church tomorrow morning. And she was wearing her silly reindeer sweatshirt.

“Aunt Natalie.” Robbie grabbed her hand and hopped from foot to foot. “I forgot to go to the bathroom before we left Grandma's.”

She could deal with seeing Connor here later. Right now she had a more immediate problem. Natalie scooped up Robbie and raced to the restrooms. She reached for the women's room doorknob.

“That's the girls' room,” Robbie said.

“It's okay. I'll go in with you.”

“No.” He wiggled himself out of her arms to the floor and darted across the hall to the men's room. He opened the door and went in.

Natalie started in after him, but stopped when she heard voices inside. Robbie was four. He could handle his coat zipper and stuff, couldn't he? She had no idea. All she could think about was when she was about Robbie's age and had an accident at Autumn's house because she couldn't undo the clasps on her overalls.

“Come here often?” Connor lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head from her to the men's room door.

Natalie tossed her glove at his head.

He reached up, intercepted it and handed the glove to back to her. “Want me to go in and see if Robbie needs any help? I saw you race across the room.”

“Yes, please.” Leaning against the wall with a sigh of relief, she noticed Hope standing half behind her brother.

“And could you take Hope in for a pit stop?”

Connor was here with his little sister. They must be going on the train ride, too.

“Connor,” Hope admonished. “This isn't a race.”

“I think it was for Robbie.” Connor ducked into the men's room with a chuckle.

“Connor is funny sometimes,” Hope said.

Natalie was pretty sure the little girl meant odd, not humorous. “He can be.” That was one of the many things Natalie liked about him. He could keep you on your toes. She pushed the door open for Hope and combed her hair while she waited for the little girl.

“Are you combing your hair to look pretty for Connor?” Hope asked. “He needs a helpmate, you know. That's like a wife. Mrs. Hill said so.”

Natalie choked. “My hat mussed my hair.” She was
not
combing her hair for Connor. “Do you want me to comb yours?”

Hope looked in the mirror. “No, I'm good. Connor brushed it and put my barrettes in for me before we left his house.” The little girl sized her up. “You might make a good wife for Connor. Amelia and Aimee said you're a TV person. If Connor was sick, you wouldn't be afraid to stand up in front of church and do his sermon for him.”

Natalie doubted she'd be anyone's first choice to sub for Connor at church. Before she could even start to respond to Hope, the little girl confided, “I don't like talking or reading in front of people, except I read out loud for Becca to practice my reading. I'm glad we don't have show-and-tell in first grade.”

“I can tell you my secret for not being afraid to talk in front of people.”

“What?”

“I pretend I'm talking to someone I'm close to like my m—” Natalie stopped herself before she said mother “—sister Claire.”

“I don't have any sisters. But I have three brothers. Connor is the best listener. I could pretend I'm talking to him.”

“Connor's a good choice,” Natalie said. “When we were friends in school, sometimes I practiced my book reports for him before I had to give them in class. If he was in my class, I looked in his direction and gave my report like I was talking just to him.”

“You guys have must have been friends for a long time.” Hope looked up at her, hands on hips. “Have you thought about marrying him?”

Natalie swallowed her surprise and regret.
Only too often for my own good
,
little one.

* * *

Connor stared at the closed door. What was taking Natalie and Hope so long?

Drew Stacey, Autumn's uncle and the current leader of the church's couples group, called for everyone to start organizing into their car-pool groups.

“Pastor Connor,” Robbie said, biting his lip. “If everyone else leaves without us, you'll drive us to the train station so we don't miss the Polar Express, won't you? Grandpa drove us. Aunt Natalie doesn't have a car.”

“Sure, I can drive us.” He'd planned on Hope and him riding in the church van, but he could run over and get his car. That might be a better idea anyway. It would free up more seats in the van for others. And give him and Natalie some unexpected time together. He lifted his hand to knock on the door and hit air when it opened.

“What took you guys so long?” Robbie voiced Connor's earlier thought.

“Natalie had to comb her hair because her hat messed it up,” Hope answered.

Connor's chest swelled a little. He was pretty sure the pink on Natalie's cheeks wasn't makeup.

“But she didn't have to comb mine because you already did it good, Connor. We also had a girl talk.”