Kate’s breath snagged in her throat.
God, are you listening? Can you hear me
?
Just like the first time she had asked, her pulse rushed with a yearning to belong—to be at peace with herself, Nick, and God. Trembling, she made a decision.
Wanting
to know God had to be enough, because it was the best she could do.
Before she thought too much and lost her courage, she focused on the manger and murmured out loud, “I believe.” Clutching Nick’s hand, she squeezed as tightly as the day he pulled her up and out of the canyon. With her heart ready to leap out of her chest, she indicated the nativity, the church,
and the stars. “I believe in all of this—in God and Christmas and Jesus and—and everything.”
Nick turned to her with his brows furrowed. “Kate, do you know what that means?”
“I do.” At least she
thought
she did. To use a pat phrase, she had given her life to Christ. She knew about sin and salvation from going to church as a little girl, and she knew God loved her. If it wasn’t enough, it was a good start.
The tightness around Nick’s eyes melted into a look of joy, then he drew her close and hugged her. Warm in his arms, she savored the first notes of “O Holy Night,” her favorite carol even before tonight. Somehow it sounded more alive and personal, as if it were being played just for her. The donkey brayed softly and the camel stomped its foot. With the smells of pine and hay and Nick’s warm skin tickling her nose, she turned in his arms so that they were facing the manger together. “It looks the same, but somehow everything’s different.”
“That’s the feeling exactly.” A smile played on his lips. “And it’s something to celebrate. I know we planned on Christmas Eve together, but how about Christmas Day, too? I want you to meet Sam and Gayle. We’ll bring Leona.”
“I’d like that.”
Meeting Nick’s family was a big step, one she welcomed, especially when he described a Christmas full of noise, food, and family—all the things Kate had missed as an only child. The future seemed as pristine as the field of snow where she had made the snow angel, and suddenly she knew what to do about Sutton. It was time to start a new life the way Noah did when he built the ark. The thought terrified her, but if God was real, she didn’t have to be afraid.
She gripped Nick’s fingers. “I’m quitting.”
“Quitting what?”
“My job at Sutton.”
“Kate—” He grasped both her hands and squeezed hard. “I want you here in Meadows. There’s no doubt about it. But I know what it’s like to make a big change. You should take some time. Don’t rush.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
A siren cut him off. Startled, they looked up the street, where a fire engine was creeping along with its lights flashing, “Ho ho ho” blaring from the PA, and Santa riding shotgun, throwing candy to people on the street as he headed to the Kids’ Corral.
“Let’s go!” She grabbed Nick’s hand. They had pictures to take and stories to write, but mostly she wanted to savor this remarkable night.
Oh, what fun to be a child again.
To celebrate and rejoice.
To be with Nick, the most wonderful man she had ever met.
Hand in hand, they raced ahead of the fire truck to the play area. Nick positioned himself for pictures of Santa’s arrival, and Kate asked kids what they wanted for Christmas. When they finished, Nick approached her with a serious look in his eyes. “What happened tonight is important. We need to talk—”
“Later, okay?” Bouncing on her toes, she planted her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. “I want to tell Leona that I’m staying in Meadows.”
Nick hesitated. “Are you that sure about leaving Sutton?”
“I am.” Tonight she was sure of everything.
The crowd was thinner now, and they reached the Clarion in two minutes. When they walked into the dimly lit office, they found Leona and Dody enjoying a cup of cider and gazing at the tree. At the sight of them, Leona lumbered to
her feet. “It’s been a wonderful evening, but I’m worn out. Dody’s meeting some of the gals for coffee, but I’m not up to it. Could you take me home?”
“Of course.” Kate wanted to blurt her good news, but her grandmother’s needs came first. Concerned, she turned to Nick. “I know we promised Mindy we’d deliver the gifts—”
“I’ll handle it,” he said to her. “Colton can help.”
He gave her a quick kiss, wished Leona and Dody a merry Christmas, and went to find Colton. Kate drove Leona home, waited until she was tucked into bed, then tapped on the open door. “Are you up for a little conversation?”
“Of coursh.” Leona patted the mattress next to her.
Excited and a little scared, Kate perched on the edge the way she did when she was little. “Something happened tonight, and I want to tell you about it.” She described the nativity and how real it seemed, the smell of the hay, and how the camel had looked at her. “You took me to church when I was little, and I believed back then. Lately, not so much.” She lowered her gaze to her lap, felt the weight of mistakes and wasted time, then looked into Leona’s eyes. “I don’t know how to describe what I felt tonight, except to say God touched me, and I believe again.”
“Oh, honey—”
“There’s more.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m quitting Sutton and staying in Meadows.”
Leona pulled Kate into a hug. “This is what I hoped, but it’s a big decision. Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Nothing could dim her good mood, though the thought of calling Roscoe unnerved her.
Leona pulled out of the hug, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Does Nick know you’re staying?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He’s happy about it.” A blush warmed her cheeks. “Very happy, in fact. So am I.” She told Leona about the plans for Christmas Day and meeting Nick’s family. “Is that okay with you?”
“It sounds perfect.”
They talked about Christmas and life, men, shopping, and decorating the house until Leona’s eyelids fluttered like tired butterflies. Kate kissed her good-night, then trundled upstairs and went to bed herself. She dreamed about Nick as she fell asleep, but just before dawn she jarred awake from a nightmare about Sutton, a blizzard, and speeding on a twisting mountain road.
“Oh, Lord,” she murmured in the dark. “Am I making the right decision?”
As usual, nothing happened. There was only a keening emptiness in her middle, and the fervent hope God was real and wouldn’t let her down.
O
n monday morning,
Kate made the coffee extra strong, mustered her courage and called Roscoe. His assistant told her he hadn’t arrived yet but would call her back in an hour. Three cups of coffee later, her phone rang and she jumped out of her skin. Swallowing hard, she greeted Roscoe with a cheery hello. They chatted briefly, then he asked when she planned to make a visit to Sutton.
“That’s why I’m calling.” Mentally she put on her best business suit. “I’ve given this a lot of thought and—”
“Ah, Kate—”
“I’m not coming back. I’ll finish the Eve’s Garden proposal, but I need to work from home like I’ve been doing. I’m happy here, and—well, it’s the right thing to do.”
“I’m not surprised. Frankly, I saw this coming.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Nick’s a great guy.”
“This isn’t about him.” She resented the notion she was chasing after a man. She cared deeply for Nick, but she had a life of her own.
“Whatever you say. It doesn’t really matter. The bottom line is that you’re throwing away your career.”
“No, I’m not.” She started to pace. Roscoe was like a father to her. His opinion mattered.
“I think you are. Newspapers are dying out.”
“Not the
Clarion.
”
“Will you earn as much as you do from Sutton, not to mention the cost of benefits like health insurance?”
“No.”
“What about your condo? Aren’t you underwater like everyone else?”
“Close,” she admitted. She’d have to sell the place or rent it out. She also needed a car. The insurance money for the BMW had paid off the loan, and Leona’s Subaru was reliable but old. Aside from the financial cost of leaving Sutton, she would miss her friends. A lump pushed into her throat, but she forced it down. If Nick could give up
California for Real
Men
, she could live without Sutton. “It’s the right thing to do,” she insisted.
A long sigh emanated from her phone. “All right. But if things don’t work out, call me. You do good work, Kate. I’ll hire you back anytime.”
“Thank you.”
They talked briefly about Eve’s Garden, with Kate assuring him she’d keep Eve happy until the account was finalized in February. After Roscoe’s cold-blooded assessment, Kate needed a friend who understood her feelings, so she called Julie.
“Hey,” Kate said. “You won’t believe this—”
“Neither will you! I’m pregnant! I did the test this morning. It’s positive, Kate!
Positive!
I want this so badly . . .” She started to cry.
So did Kate. “I’m happy for you.”
Julie stammered about the baby and miracles, how thrilled her husband was, and her yearning to be a mom. “I’ll work for a while, but when the baby comes I’m quitting. Kate, whatever you do, don’t wait too long to have kids. Nick’s a great guy. I saw how he looks at you.”
“Oh Julie—”
“What?”
“I’m leaving Sutton.” The story spilled out of her, everything from the visit to Eve’s Garden to kissing Nick and finally to her new faith. When Julie offered nothing more than a few “uh-huhs” about the moment at the nativity, Kate felt self-conscious. “It must seem strange to you.”
“No,” Julie insisted. “Not at all. I have a cousin who’s into the Christian thing. He went to India on some sort of mission trip. He had a good time.”
What did Kate say to that
?
Her Christian faith wasn’t a thing, and though she didn’t exactly understand mission trips, she knew they weren’t about having a good time. As for going to India, she couldn’t imagine ever setting foot in Calcutta. Nick had an adventurous spirit; she didn’t at all.
“Oh no.” Julie groaned into the phone. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’m about to throw up. Morning sickness! Isn’t that great?”
“It’s awesome.” Kate meant it, but she wished Julie could have been a little excited for her, too.
Lowering the phone, she wandered to the sliding glass door and looked at Mount Abel rising behind the house. Just like the living nativity, the mountain didn’t seem quite real today. She had a clear view of the slope falling into the valley, but gray clouds hid the peak. She knew a narrow road twisted to the top. Nick had driven it many times, but Kate couldn’t imagine braving it herself. The top of Mount Abel was suddenly as remote and terrifying as Calcutta. At the
moment, so was leaving Sutton. Being a Christian wasn’t as easy as she thought, but surely God wouldn’t leave her to muddle through alone. He’d send help. Come to think of it, He already had. He’d sent Nick.
On Monday morning Nick went to Valencia to Christmas shop. At Toys“R”Us, he made a strafing run for gifts for his nephews. Sam would hate him for the electronic drums, but that was half the fun. Next he visited the Harley dealer and a jewelry shop, where he made purchases for Kate. He bought books for Leona, decided to give Sam and Gayle a weekend at a resort, then drove to Sam’s house where his brother was expecting him.
Nick needed help. As much as he wanted Kate to quit Sutton and stay in Meadows, he couldn’t stop thinking about Sam’s advice to him when he was a new Christian: No big decisions for a year. If the same rule applied to Kate, what did Nick do next? He was sick and tired of waiting for his future to begin. It was time for a wife and kids, a dog . . . even a minivan.
Maybe not the minivan.
But definitely a wife. Celibacy had worked for the apostle Paul, but Nick was firmly in the “it’s better to marry than to burn” camp, a point driven home every time he held Kate’s hand or touched her arm, or kissed her even lightly.
Fighting his frustration, he pounded on Sam’s door with his fist. Gayle opened it with a scowl that turned to a grin at the sight of him. “Nick! How are you?”
“Fine.”
Sort of.
“Come on in.” She widened the door and ushered him inside. “Sam’s in the garage. Can you stay for dinner?”
“I’d like that.” He’d enjoy a family meal, especially since
Gayle had learned to cook from Nick and Sam’s mother. “What are we having?”
“Roast beef.”
His favorite, but Gayle knew that. She was the world’s best sister-in-law, except for her tendency to introduce him to her single friends. She knew about his year off from dating but told him she was planning ahead. So was Nick, and Kate was the one.
He followed Gayle into the kitchen, then detoured to the garage where Sam was changing the wheels on a skateboard. When Nick entered, Sam glanced over his shoulder. His hair had some gray, and his black-framed glasses made him look owlish. Sometimes Nick thought his brother had been born wise.
“Need a hand?” Nick asked as he crossed the garage.
“I’ve got it.” Sam went back to turning the screwdriver. “So what’s up? On the phone you sounded half crazy.”
“I am.” Nick picked up a wrench and mindlessly spun the cylinder. “It’s about Kate.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He told Sam about the Christmas Faire, the living nativity, and Kate’s epiphany. “I’m happy for her, but what do I do now? When I was a new Christian, you told me to wait a year before making any big decisions. I pushed that to ‘no dating.’ And now—” Nick clenched his teeth. “I’m really sorry I did that.”
“I bet,” Sam said with a laugh. “That’s what you get for trying to outdo the rest of us. God made you a man, not Mr. Perfect Christian.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a big difference between ‘no big decisions’ and ‘no dating’. The first one is just good advice. The second one is pretty extreme. As I recall, you made that rule for yourself. God didn’t carve it in stone as the Eleventh Commandment.”
Sam had a point, but he didn’t know how guilty Nick felt when he thought about his daughter suffering. “I had to do it.”
“Okay,” Sam agreed. “But it was still your choice. Maybe it’s time to make a new choice.”
“Like what?”
“You tell me.” Sam focused back on the skateboard wheels and tightened a bolt.
Nick wished his own problems were as simple to fix as exchanging a pair of worn-out wheels for new ones. “I want to do what’s best for Kate, but waiting another year—” He tossed down the wrench. “The idea stinks.”
Sam laughed. “Patience isn’t your strong suit.”
“It never was.”
The old skateboard wheels came off in Sam’s hand. “You’re serious about her, aren’t you?”
“Very.”
Sam set aside the old wheels and positioned the new ones in the same groove. When they wobbled, he pointed the screwdriver at a coffee can by Nick. “I need a washer.”
While digging in the can, Nick thought of the work he’d done on his deck. Even something as small as a washer made a big difference to the stability of a railing. He wanted that stability with Kate, but he also wanted to cherish her, love her, even fight with her because that’s what people did. “So what do I do?” he repeated, more frustrated than ever. “We have plans for New Year’s Eve. It’s business for the paper, but it could be a lot more.”
“And you want to move things along.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t blame you,” Sam agreed. “And I don’t think you need to worry about it. Your biggest weakness has always been going too fast, so God slowed you down. I don’t know
what Kate’s personal character is like, but unless she has a dozen speeding tickets—”
“She doesn’t. If anything, she’s overly cautious.”
“People learn to trust God in different ways. Maybe Kate needs to take a chance.”
“Maybe,” Nick agreed. “But I’m still worried. She was a Christian for five whole minutes when she decided to quit her job.”
“That
is
fast.”
“Especially since she loves it. I’m glad she quit, but I worry she’ll regret it.”
Sam spun the wheels with his hand. Without the friction of a sidewalk, they whirred for several seconds. Nick wanted that kind of friction-free life for Kate, but he knew better. Christianity wasn’t a pie-in-the-sky promise of roses and vanilla moonbeams. The roses had thorns and sometimes the moon vanished. Nick knew all about the lonely times, the temptation to throw in the towel and find solace in old stupid ways. He didn’t want Kate to go down that road—not ever.
Sam hung the screwdriver on the pegboard. “All you can do is pray for her . . . and for yourself, too. There aren’t any rules here. I know couples who dated six weeks and stayed married for sixty years. On the flip side, a couple I married two years ago is already divorced. They did everything right—counseling, a long engagement, no sex before marriage—but they fell apart.”
“Why?”
“I wish I knew.”
The door to the kitchen opened, revealing Gayle with a dish towel in her hand and a scowl on her face. “Sam, I need you.”
He was already crossing the garage. “What’s up?”
“The sink’s backed up—”
“Again?”
He stopped and planted his hands on his hips. “What is it this time?”
“Potatoes.” Her mouth thinned to a line.
Sam hung his head, then his shoulders heaved, and he looked up. “Honey, you know the sewer line is old. It can’t handle sixteen pounds of potato peels.”
“I didn’t peel
sixteen
pounds of potatoes.” Her hands landed on her hips in a pose that matched Sam’s. “I peeled
five
potatoes—” She hesitated. “And some carrots . . . and two cucumbers for the salad.”
“Oh, crud.” Shaking his head, Sam followed Gayle.
Knowing what lay ahead, Nick collected a bucket, a pipe wrench, and rags, then joined Sam at the sink where potato peels were floating in slimy water. For the next hour, he and Sam did battle with the clogged sink. They plunged it, disassembled the trap, and tried to snake the sewer line. When all was said and done, the sink was in pieces, the clog was firmly in place, and Gayle was red-faced with embarrassment. “I know better,” she said in a shaky voice. “I should have put the peels in the trash like you said. I just wasn’t thinking.”
Sam dragged his hand across the back of his neck. “It’s an old house. I wish we could move, but—”
“No!” Gayle protested. “I love this house.”
Nick knew the history. Gayle’s father was an attorney with a solid six-figure income. Growing up, she had every material possession, including a new Saab for her sixteenth birthday. When she met Sam and fell in love, her lifestyle changed dramatically. Sam didn’t earn a pile of money, and the family of four was crammed into an 1,100 square foot house with sewer lines doing battle with old tree roots. Something always needed fixing, but it was also a house full of love.