Holiday Homecoming (6 page)

Natalie smiled at their banter. She should reach out to Andie. Maybe she and Andie and Claire could go Christmas shopping together or something.

“Ken?” Connor addressed a choir member from his church.

“Sorry, I can't make the commitment. You wouldn't want to be left high and dry if I was a no-show the night of the pageant because I got an emergency call to make a fuel oil delivery or go fix someone's furnace. But I have a suggestion.”

Connor relaxed his stance. Or at least it looked that way to Natalie.

“I think you should do the solo,” Ken said.

Natalie shot Connor a sympathetic look as the men of the choir in particular drowned out his protest. He couldn't be any more anxious to work closer together than she was.

“We'll see. Maybe one of you guys will muster enough guts after you hear the women try out. Go ahead, Natalie.”

She ran through the tryouts, not feeling the least bit guilty for possibly putting slightly more into Andie's accompaniment. Not that she needed it. Her sister clearly outsang the other two women. When Andie finished her second round, Natalie gave her a thumbs-up behind the piano, where the others couldn't see it. Andie nodded.

Natalie glanced over at Connor and caught him gazing at her raised thumb. Heat flooded her face. She shouldn't be displaying favoritism, but Connor and Andie would be perfect vocalists for the hymn.

“Thank you, ladies,” he said as Andie returned to the choir. “That was beautiful. Men, do I have a volunteer or two now?”

“No, let's go ahead and vote,” a male voice called from the back.

Connor turned to Natalie as if not sure how to proceed.

Natalie pushed back from the piano and stood. “I have papers and pens, if I could have a couple people help pass them out and collect the votes. Write your vote for the female part from the three women we just heard and, I guess, anyone you want for the male part.”

Connor's expression plainly said “Thanks a lot.”

She shrugged. What else could she do if they were to get any practice time in tonight?

The ballots were quickly distributed and collected. Natalie split them between Connor and her to count. A noose formed around her stomach after the first few ballots and pulled tighter with each additional one. She finished hers first to catch Connor's mouth draw to a grim line. “Mine are almost all for you and me,” she said for Connor's ears only.

“The same here.” Connor called down two people from other churches and explained what had happened. A buzz of conversation filled the room as the others recounted the ballots.

“Congratulations,” one of the recounters said when they'd finished. “Want me to make the announcement?”

“Please,” Natalie squeaked out ahead of Connor.

“After an impartial recount,” the man said, “the winners are Natalie and Pastor Connor.”

During the brief pause before the choir exploded in applause, Natalie sought out Andie, hoping to wordlessly convey her feelings about the vote. Andie's face was a study in neutrality. The knot strangling her stomach pulled an inch tighter.

Natalie finished the practice as if on autopilot, avoiding eye contact with everyone. She mechanically accepted the congratulations of the choir members, keeping a watch for her sister. Somehow Andie slipped by. As the room emptied to Connor and her, she quickly gathered her things. Too quickly. The sheet music slipped from her grasp. Watching the pages fall to the floor, Natalie silently implored,
Lord
,
I
know You're trying to teach me something
,
but could You give me a little clue what?
She sensed Connor moving to help her.
And how I'm supposed to harness my old feelings and work together with Connor as if they don't exist.
You know I couldn't bear to fail him again.

Connor's hand brushed hers as they gathered the pages. She disguised her sharp intake of breath with a little cough that seemed to resound in the empty auditorium.

He tapped the short edge of the papers he'd picked up on the floor to straighten the stack. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She added them to hers and placed them in the folder.

Connor rose, offering her a hand up.

She swallowed. She couldn't ignore his offer. Nor could she ignore the spark his simply brushing her hand had caused. Natalie took his hand, letting go as quickly as she could without being obvious. A light flickered in his eyes. So much for not showing her feelings.

“Interesting night,” he said.

“You've got that right,” she agreed.

He tucked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “We couldn't have handled it any other way, not after giving the choir members the final vote.”

Was that a dig? The choir voting on the “contestants” had been her idea. Natalie turned and closed the piano. “I guess not. Sorry I talked you into singing with me. You've got enough to do without being a soloist besides.”

Connor smiled. “Who's to say they wouldn't have voted me in anyway, figuring I couldn't say no.”

Natalie faced him. “People do that?”

“Yes, people have expectations.”

“And you don't feel taken advantage of?” Natalie couldn't say she wouldn't.

“Not really. It works the other way when I need church volunteers. If I run out of different people to ask, I know I have some members who won't say no.” The faint laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. “Besides, in this case, being volunteered may be fun, give us a chance to get to know each other again.”

Connor's casual words woke a yearning in Natalie she couldn't define, only that she couldn't have whatever it was. She reached for her coat on the chair next to the piano, avoiding his gaze so he couldn't see how his friendly words had affected her.

Connor beat her to it, holding the garment so she could slide her arms in. “We're going to need to get together to practice a couple of times,” he said. “I'd rather not use the little time the choir has to practice.”

Even though her head knew Connor was speaking as the pageant director, that his words didn't mean he wanted to spend time with her, Natalie's traitorous heart skipped a beat. “I'm sure Mom and Dad wouldn't mind us practicing at their house.”
Where we wouldn't be alone
. “In fact, Mom might enjoy it.”

“Okay, why don't we head over to the general store and catch a cup of coffee...or hot chocolate and see what dates work. I have my calendar on my phone.”

Was Connor as anxious not to be alone with her as she was with him? She tamped down the feeling of giddiness that thought invoked. If he was, it couldn't be for the same reason she was.

“Sorry, I can't. I told Autumn I'd stop by on my way home. She said her grandmother had dropped off some Christmas cookies she needed help with.”

“I've had Mrs. Hazard's cookies. No contest.”

“Why don't you come, too?” she blurted. “It would be like old times. I'm sure Autumn won't mind.” She and Connor had often done things with Autumn and her high school boyfriend, Jack. But they weren't in high school anymore, and she hadn't really been a friend to either Autumn or Connor in years.

“No, you and Autumn don't need me butting in. But you could smuggle out a few of Mrs. Hazard's cookies for me.”

Natalie bit her tongue to suppress her jumbled emotions so she didn't say what she was feeling.
I
miss you.
I'm sorry.
I
wish we could go back
. “I'll see what I can do.”

Chapter Six

C
onnor whistled “O Holy Night” as he walked up the shoveled path to the Delacroix's two-story frame farm house Thursday evening. Candles in each of the double-hung windows lit his way, and the wreath on the front door added to the warm welcome he'd always felt here. A welcome he was less sure of tonight.

He'd gotten only an “okay” text from Natalie in answer to the voice mail he'd left her asking whether tonight was a good time for them to get together and practice. Connor knocked on the door, remembering a time when he would have gone to the kitchen door and let himself in.

“Connor. What brings you here?” Paul asked as he swung the door open to let him in.

“Natalie and I are going to practice our solos for the pageant service.” Or at least he thought they were. Maybe he should have followed up on her text.

“She's probably upstairs. Nat,” he shouted loud enough to reach her anywhere in the old house, including the attic and basement. “Hand me your coat and sit down.” Paul hung the coat on the doorknob to the front closet. “Claire and I are on our way out to find a combination birthday-Christmas gift for Renee. Our birthday is the twentieth. I need to have something in the mail by Saturday to make sure it gets to Haiti in time. It's the first birthday we've spent apart.”

“How's she doing?” Connor asked, taking a seat in the living room and crossing his ankle over his knee. “I haven't had an email from her in a while.”

“Still loving the work. She's talking about getting her masters in social work when she comes home.”

“Hey, Connor,” Claire said from the stairway. “Looking for Natalie? I think she's downstairs doing laundry.”

Connor uncrossed his legs, more convinced he'd misread the meaning of Nat's text, or that she'd meant to send it to someone else.

“Want me to get her?” Claire asked.

“I called her,” Paul said.

Claire made a face. “She probably didn't hear you over the dryer. I'll go.” Claire disappeared into the back of the house and returned a minute later. “She'll be right up.”

“You ready, then?” Paul asked Claire.

“Yep. See you, Connor.”

“Later.” Connor stared across the now-empty room at the Delacroix Christmas tree, drawn to the star on top. Its white blinking light made him wonder what Natalie had done with the one he'd bought her for the tree at her Syracuse apartment. He would have thrown it in the trash. She'd probably given it to a thrift shop or shelter.

“Pretty, isn't it?”

“Nat. I was beginning to think I'd gotten my information scrambled and we weren't practicing tonight.”

“No, we are. Time got away from me. I told Mom I'd do the laundry when I got back from watching Robbie. Andie had a chance to pick up some extra hours at work. I'd forgotten how much laundry Dad and Paul could generate.”

Connor forced a laugh. He hadn't intended to put her on the defensive. She stared at the tree now, a soft look on her face. Remembering other happy Christmases? Maybe she hadn't taken his words that way at all. He blew out a breath. He was overthinking.

“Where are Paul and Claire?” Natalie said, glancing around the room as if she'd just noticed they were alone. “Claire said you were all up here talking.”

“Off shopping for a gift for Renee.”

“Oh, Claire didn't say anything about that. Paul usually gives one of us girls money and we shop for him.”

“Good plan. I'm a proponent of gift cards myself, except for Hope. I don't mind toy shopping.”

“You always... Never mind.”

He guessed Natalie was going to say he always gave her gifts on her birthday and Christmas. A hollow space opened in his chest. Shopping for Natalie had been different. It had been worth all the effort to see her face light up, to show her he cared enough to shop for something special for her.

“Should we get started? Mom and Dad have a TV program on Hallmark they like to watch at nine. I have the music out on the piano.” She waved toward the instrument.

She'd set a time limit. All business. But what had he expected? “Ready when you are.” He rose from the chair.

Before they reached the piano, Natalie's parents walked in.

“Mom, Dad, you going to be our audience?”

“No,” her mother said. “We're going to take
Mémé
for a drive around the lake to see the Christmas lights. Didn't I tell you? You know how your grandmother likes seeing the lights.”

Confusion spread across Natalie's face. “I don't think so.”

Connor scuffed his toe on the rug. Everyone being in the dark about what the rest of the family was doing sounded more like his family when he was growing up than Natalie's, or what he used to know of her family.

“I'm not sure when we'll be back,” Terry said. “Paul already has the DVR set to record
Thursday Night Football
and Claire has it set for something else, so, if we're not here by nine, can you turn on my program and keep track of what's going on? Maybe the two of you would like to watch it. I think you'd like it, Connor. It's about—”

“Terry,” Natalie's father said. “Mom's waiting.”

“Okay, just one more thing. I baked cookies for you guys. Mary Hazard gave me the recipe. I remember you saying how much you liked them, Natalie. They're snickerdoodles. Have you ever had them, Connor?”

Connor stifled a groan. Now he knew what was going on. Another setup to get him dating and married. But Terry setting him up with Natalie? He hadn't seen that coming, and from Natalie's blush, she hadn't, either.

“Yes, they're one of my favorites,” he said.

“Then, you're all set. You can practice your music in peace, then have cookies and coffee or tea and watch some TV. Just like old times.”

Except during the old times, Natalie's father had always made sure there were at least two other people in the room with them at all times. In fact, by the way he was looking from him to Natalie, Connor half expected him to say he and Terry could take Natalie's grandmother to view the lights another time.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Natalie's mother gave her husband's arm a tug. “You said we had to get going.”

“Yeah.” He frowned.

Connor waited for John to tell them to behave themselves.

“Have fun,” Terry said as she closed the front door behind them.

“I am so embarrassed,” Natalie said.

“Don't be.”

“But she was so obvious. What on earth is she thinking?”

That we made a good couple once.
Maybe we could again
. Natalie's outrage at her mother's attempted matchmaking animated her features in a way he'd seen far too infrequently since she'd been back. He stepped closer, breathing in the fresh pine scent of the tree, mingled with the light floral scent of Natalie's perfume or shampoo. The star's flashing light highlighted the blue-black shine of her hair, making his heart trip in harmony. “It seems to be the bane of all us bachelor pastors,” he said to bring things back into perspective. He was here to practice for the Christmas pageant, not to fixate on how beautiful Natalie looked tonight.

“And Paul and Claire had to have been in on it, too. I told you his going shopping was odd.”

“Not Paul,” Connor said, remembering her brother's surprise when he'd opened the front door. “And I'm sure they didn't clue your father in. The frown on his face when he realized we were going to be here alone made me think he was going to cancel their drive around the lake to stay here and chaperone. Remember how he used to send Paul and Renee in to watch TV with us and tag along if we went outside?”

Natalie stared at him. “You're not mad?”

“No, your mother didn't mean any harm.”

“I'll talk with her.” Natalie backed up a couple of inches as if she'd just noticed how close they were standing. “Make sure she understands we're friends and nothing more.” Her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket and glanced at the screen. “I should take this.”

Connor nodded and crossed the room to the piano to give her a little privacy.

“Yes, I'm interested,” Natalie said. “At least until after the holidays. Sure, I could probably arrange that. Let me know what you find out.”

She joined him at the piano. “Sorry. That was my agent.”

“A job opportunity?”

“Possibly.”

Connor had pushed the fact that Natalie was here temporarily from his mind. Her phone call brought that and her ambitions blazing back. She'd soon be gone again, and he wasn't looking for a holiday fling. Despite the old feelings he'd allowed to surface, he'd respect the “friend” boundary she'd set.

“We should start practicing. I'm sure you have other things you could be doing tonight.”

Connor followed Natalie. Nothing he'd rather be doing than spending the evening with her. But he'd get over it. He had before.

* * *

“Mom, how could you?” Natalie challenged her mother when her parents returned.

“Terry, I told you it wouldn't work,” her father said before making a beeline up the stairs.

So her father had been in on it, or had at least known what her mother was doing.

“Why don't we go into the kitchen and have some of those cookies I made.” Natalie's mother glanced at the TV. “It looks like my program is a repeat tonight.”

“The cookies are gone.”

“You and Connor ate them all?”

“No, I gave them to him to take home when he left, right after we finished practicing.”

Her mother pursed her lips. “So you're not going to give yourself a chance.”

“Connor and I are good. As friends. We talked when the twins locked us in the attic.”

“Those two are something else,” her mother said.

“To put it mildly. I hope their escapade hasn't caused too much talk.”

“Not much, except among the small number of parishioners who are always looking to find fault with people.”

That wasn't much reassurance. “I don't want to cause any problems for Connor. The other night when I stopped over at Autumn's, she said his contract with the church is up for renewal soon.”

“Connor will be fine. Claire is on the administrative council, and she hasn't heard anything but the usual in the way of complaints against him, only the ones all pastors get.”

“I don't want to be the source of any new ones.”

Her mother waved her off. “I'm glad you and Autumn got to catch up. Karen said Jules and her family will be visiting for New Year's. The three of you will be able to get together like old times.”

Natalie rubbed a catch in the tip of her thumbnail. Except it wasn't old times, not with her girlfriends and certainly not with Connor. And there was no way to make it so. “That would be fun, if I'm still here.”

“What happened?” Her mother's eyes narrowed. “You're not harming Connor's pastorate by being here. You don't have to run back to Chicago.”

Natalie's heart constricted. Her mother thought her career was “running away”? Mom had always been her support. “Nothing happened, except my agent called with a possible job opportunity, back at the station I started with.”

“Is that wise?”

Natalie breathed in and out. “Kirk isn't there anymore, if that's what you're asking. There's all new management that wants to add a good news segment, like I did at the last station I was with.”

“Oh, I know you liked that work.”

Not the resounding encouragement Natalie might have expected. “I did. This job isn't for certain. My agent called to see if I would be interested. I wasn't going to say anything to anyone yet. I don't even have an interview.”

“You have to do what you have to do. I like having you here helping. But I'm starting to get around and should be able to manage by myself after the holidays.”

Guilt trips weren't Mom's usual style. Nothing was the same anymore. She shook off her personal pity party. “Can we change the subject? I may not even get an interview.”

“All right,” her mother agreed.

“Has Andie said anything to you about my getting the pageant solo? At practice, I was sure she had it.”

“No, why?” Her mother put her hands on her hips. “Are you girls at it again?”

She shook her head.
Not since Andie's jibe about me being too selfish to appreciate Connor
. “She seemed really down when I was over there this afternoon. And the other night Autumn told me I should talk with Andie. Then Robbie said something today that I didn't understand at first. He was rearranging the Nativity scene and said their Christmas baby was lost and wasn't coming anymore. I thought he meant the baby Jesus figurine. I told him Mommy would put it out on Christmas. He said, ‘No, the baby isn't coming anymore and that makes Mommy cry.' Did Andie have another miscarriage?”

“Yes. This time, she hemorrhaged so Dr. Hanlon told her they shouldn't try again. She's taken it hard. You know she and Rob had wanted a big family and how thrilled she was to have Robbie after trying for so many years after the twins were born.”

Tears pricked Natalie's eyes. Andie did love babies. “I wondered. She didn't seem herself at practice, either. I'd wanted to talk with her before she left, but she slipped out.” Natalie knew all too well how life's disappointments could pile up. “Why didn't you tell me when Andie first found out she was pregnant? I could have prayed for her, put her and Rob on my church's prayer list.”

“Andie wanted to wait until she was into her second trimester before she went public with the news.”

Her throat clogged. But she was family, not public. Little Robbie knew. “Do you think some girl time might cheer her up? After talking with Autumn, I'd thought I might ask Andie and Claire if they wanted to have lunch and go shopping or something.”