A Down-Home Country Christmas (3 page)

“What the—?” Pete stopped pushing and straightened up. “This donkey just does not want to go in there.” He looked Noël over, just the way Robbie had earlier. “If we got a couple of more guys, we could probably pick her up and carry her on.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Robbie said. “I’m taking Noël back to the gazebo and leaving her there until lunchtime at school. Then we’ll get the donkey whisperers back here for a quick load.”

“Donkey whisperers?” Pete shook his head. “You been talking to Sharon Sydenstricker up at Healing Springs Stables too much. Her and her whisper horses, thinking there’s a horse who’ll listen to your problems and make them all better.”

“There are some smart people in town who swear by their whisper horses, including Holly’s sister Claire.” Robbie put a note of warning in his voice.

Pete held up his hands. “No offense meant. I’m just sayin’.”

“I know what you’re saying.” Robbie just didn’t know what to say back. He thought Sharon’s theory was crazy too. “Wait here. You can give me a ride back to Boone’s to pick up my cruiser.” He gave Noël’s lead line a tug. The donkey looked at him without moving. “Pete, close the back gate of the trailer, would you?”

“You let me know if you need any help leading the itty bitty donkey around the house.” Pete smirked as he swung the gate closed.

Robbie said something rude to his partner before he took hold of Noël’s halter and steered her around the side of the trailer. The little beast stepped forward without hesitation, and they made the trip to the gazebo in amicable silence. After filling the water bucket, Robbie double checked the knot he’d tied Noël with, and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “I can’t say I blame you for wanting to hang around Holly and her girls. I get tempted myself.”

Chapter 3

Holly was squashed up against Robbie’s side on the bench seat of Grady Boone’s battered pickup, with Brianna and Kayleigh sharing a single seatbelt beside her. Even through Robbie’s wool police jacket she could feel the heat and muscle of his body, making warmth ripple through her own. It would have been one of the best rides of her life except that Robbie had done his withdrawing act again. Every time she felt like they’d made a connection, the “protect and serve” mask would drop over his face, and he’d pull away.

“Mama, does Noël look okay?” Brianna twisted around, trying to see the donkey tied in the trailer behind them.

“I can see her in the rearview mirror,” Robbie said. “She’s doing just fine. She’s an old pro at this.”

“Once you get her in the trailer,” Holly muttered. It had taken all four of them to persuade Noël to trot up the ramp. Thank goodness Brianna’s teacher had volunteered to take over Holly’s lunch duties when she heard about the nativity donkey.

“She didn’t want to give up all the attention she was getting from the beautiful Snedegar ladies,” Robbie said.

Holly flushed with pleasure even though she knew Robbie was just being sweet to the girls.

Kayleigh giggled. “Mama’s beautiful. We’re just pretty.”

“Do you think Noël’s lonely at Mr. Boone’s?” Brianna turned toward Robbie.

“It’s a possibility.” He downshifted as they approached the turn onto the farm’s gravel road. Holly felt the muscles in his thigh flex against hers as he moved his foot between the clutch and the accelerator.

To their right a set of tire tracks veered off the highway, went straight to a hole smashed through the fence, and drew two parallel lines up a slight slope to the now-ruined nativity scene. The roof of the stable tilted crazily to one side where the supporting column had been smashed. The painted wooden figures were scattered over the ground like fallen chess pieces. The bottom half of the Virgin Mary’s blue gown still stood upright while her top half had disappeared in a heap of splintered wood.

“No wonder Mr. Boone feels too discouraged to put it back together,” Holly said.

“There’s not going to be a nativity scene anymore?” Brianna’s voice was laden with distress.

“We’ll see,” Robbie said. “Right now Mr. Boone’s still upset about the damage.”

“But this is where everyone goes after church on Christmas Eve,” Kayleigh said. “I see all my friends here.”

The practice had started with Bess Boone offering hot chocolate and cookies from her kitchen to a few children whose parents had driven them up to see the nativity scene. Back then it had a live horse, sheep, goat, cow, and chickens, as well as the donkey. As Grady got older, he kept fewer and fewer animals on the farm, so he’d replaced the live creatures with wooden replicas, except for Noël, the cow, and the chickens.

But more and more parents brought their children there to wish each other a merry Christmas after the various evening church services, and it grew into a full-blown Sanctuary tradition. When the crowd got too big for Bess to handle on her own, a battalion of mothers had set up urns of hot chocolate and trays of cookies in the backs of pickups. The police set up safety barricades and directed traffic, the flashing lights of their cruisers adding to the festive atmosphere.

As the old truck rattled over the rutted gravel, Holly thought about the happy greetings that were called out as each new car parked along the road and disgorged children bundled in puffy jackets, knitted caps, and mittens. Even the teenagers came along, pretending they were only there because their parents made them come, but grabbing a cookie and slouching against the fence farther down the road as they compared tunes and games on their smart phones. It was one of the many events that bound the people of Sanctuary into a community.

“Mama, can’t we help him fix the nativity scene?” Brianna asked.

Holly looked at the splintered figures and the tilted roof. She remembered all the pies she needed to bake, presents she needed to buy, and choir practices to attend, on top of the usual daily chores. “Of course, we can,” she said, stroking Brianna’s dark hair.

She felt Robbie’s shoulder rise and fall against hers in what she knew was a sigh of resignation. Guilt nagged at her for dragging him into the job when he said, “I’ll round up some friends and tackle the carpentry.”

“We have to get Mr. Boone to agree though,” Holly said. “It’s his farm, and his nativity scene.”

“I’ll ask him. He’ll let us,” Kayleigh said with a confidence Holly envied.

Robbie steered the truck around the farmhouse toward the barn. As the old vehicle shuddered to a stop, a tall, thin man with a fringe of gray hair around his bald head emerged from the barn door. His jeans had a crease pressed down the front of each leg and his jacket was a bright blue-and-yellow plaid. His tortoiseshell glasses caught a gleam of the pale winter sun as he raised a hand in greeting.

Holly unclipped her daughters’ seatbelt and the two girls tumbled out of the truck. Grady Boone took a step backward as the girls rushed toward him.

“Brianna! Kayleigh! Mind your manners!” she called, leaping out of the door. She remembered that the Boones had never had kids of their own.

She caught up with the girls as they skidded to a stop in front of Grady. “Can we come visit Noël every day?” Kayleigh asked.

“We want to rebuild your nativity scene for you,” Brianna said.

Holly put a hand on each of her daughters’ shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze.

Brianna glanced up at her with an apology in her eyes before holding out her hand to the older man. “I’m Brianna. Pleased to meet you.”

Grady hesitated a moment before he folded his knobby fingers carefully around Brianna’s small hand. “Same here.”

“I’m Kayleigh Jane Snedegar.” She stuck out her hand. “We love Noël.”

Grady released Brianna’s hand and took Kayleigh’s even smaller one. “Noël’s a good donkey.”

“Hello, Mr. Boone.” Holly held out her own hand. “I’m—”

“Holly Snedegar,” the farmer said, taking her hand with more confidence than he had the children’s. “I remember you from past Christmases. I reckon I should thank you for puttin’ up Noël in your gazebo.”

“We’re so sorry about your nativity scene,” Holly said. “As Brianna mentioned, we wondered if we could fix it up again for you. It would be a shame to let a drunk driver ruin such a wonderful holiday tradition.”

“That’s a nice offer but sometimes the Lord tells you in His own way when it’s time to let things go.” Grady shoved his hands into his jeans pockets as though to keep from shaking any more hands.

Robbie strolled up to stand beside Holly. “Grady, I’m thinking the Lord didn’t have much to do with this particular event,” he said. “I’ve arrested Randy Viner for driving while intoxicated and without a license at least a dozen times in the past few years. He’s hit almost everything else in this town, so your nativity was just next on the list.”

The old man shook his head. “I almost didn’t put it out this year because everything needs a new coat of paint. I just don’t have the heart for it now that Bess is gone.”

“We have the heart for it,” Kayleigh said. “We’ll come after school every day until it’s fixed.”

A look of panic crossed Grady’s face at Kayleigh’s promise of daily visits. Holly stepped in. “Sweetheart, Mr. Boone has made his decision. Let’s help get Noël out of the trailer.”

They walked to the back of the trailer, Holly grasping the girls’ hands to prevent them from badgering the elderly farmer any further.

Robbie swung the ramp down and jogged up to untie Noël. The little donkey willingly followed him down the ramp, heading straight for Holly. “Whoa, girl, this way!” Robbie tried to steer Noël toward the barn, but the donkey just towed Robbie along with her.

As the donkey loomed closer, Holly fought back the panic clutching at her throat and stood her ground, even as the beast came within biting distance.

“Mama, you’re squishing my fingers,” Kayleigh complained.

“Sorry, sweetie.” Holly released both girls’ hands and flexed her tense fingers. Her daughters immediately began to pet Noël, giving Holly the opportunity to sidle away from the donkey. The darned creature was like a cat, sensing her fear and tormenting her with its terrifying presence.

Brianna turned to look up at Robbie. “May I try to lead her to the barn?” Surprise jolted Holly. Brianna was usually too shy to step forward in any situation, but most especially one where she was taking on an adult’s job. Maybe her daughter was on her way to becoming that independent woman Holly herself wanted to be.

To Robbie’s credit, he handed the lead line to the eleven-year-old child without hesitation. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be better at it than I am.”

Holly’s heart swelled with pride in both of them.

Brianna took the lead line in her left hand and tucked her right hand through the cheek strap of the donkey’s halter, making Holly shudder. “Let’s go, Noël.” The girl took one step toward the barn and the donkey stepped right along with her while Kayleigh skipped beside them.

“Well, I’ll be.” Grady took off his glasses and polished them with his handkerchief before settling them back on his nose. He strode after the children and the donkey. “Gotta show them the right stall.”

“Thank you for letting her do that.” Holly turned to Robbie who stood with his hands on his hips watching the procession with a rueful smile.

He shook his head. “I was just accepting the reality of the situation. That donkey wasn’t going anywhere without your girls.”

Holly started toward the barn. “What a shame Grady won’t let us work on the manger scene.”

“I wouldn’t count it out yet,” Robbie said, strolling beside her.

Walking through the barn door, Holly blinked several times to adjust her eyes to the dim light before she headed toward the sound of voices. Robbie caught her wrist in a gentle grip and tugged her to a halt. “Give your girls a couple of minutes to work their magic.”

“What do you mean?” Her nerve endings tingled at the spot where his fingers had found the bare skin between her glove and her sleeve.

Robbie held his finger to his lips. Once he drew her attention to his perfectly sculpted mouth, she couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like against hers.

“I think Noël loves us as much as we love her,” Kayleigh’s little voice piped up.

“What do you feed her?” Brianna’s question was so typical. She loved to learn about the world around her.

“Hay in the winter with some oats as a treat. Grass in the summer.” The farmer’s voice was a low rumble compared to the children’s. “Apples too. Bess said everyone needs dessert sometimes.”

“I like Mama’s chocolate cream pie,” Kayleigh said. “It won a red ribbon at the state fair.”

Robbie bent his head closer to Holly, so his breath ruffled her hair. More delicious sensations raced over her skin. “You should enter your peach cobbler next year,” he murmured. “You’d get the
blue
ribbon.”

Happiness suffused Holly. He remembered those evenings right after Frank left when he’d stop by after dinner, and she’d feed him one of her homemade desserts. Those half hours when they sat together at her kitchen table had been bright spots in her day.

While Robbie was there she felt safe. Even better, she felt normal. His visits gave her a reason to put on a pretty blouse and blow-dry her hair at a time when she found it hard just to get out of bed. His appreciation of her baking had given her the confidence to start selling her cakes and pies to the local restaurants, giving her a little extra income. Heck, even Adam Bosch at The Aerie had ordered her strawberry rhubarb pies to put on his menu this past summer.

The warmth died as she remembered how Robbie had stopped coming by after about two months. It was disappointing because the half hours had slowly stretched to an hour or longer. Sometimes the four of them would end up playing board games, laughing and teasing each other. Robbie would tell them about the airplanes he loved to pilot or entertain them with a funny story about a local troublemaker. She’d thought—

Holly stopped herself right there. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

“Now that I sell my pies I can’t enter the fair’s contest anymore,” she whispered back. “I’m considered a professional.”

Kayleigh’s voice interrupted their whispers. “Maybe we could bring you one of Mama’s pies when we visit Noël.”

There was a long silence. Holly hated to lose the pleasure of Robbie’s touch but she needed to rescue Grady Boone from her daughter’s persistence. Gently tugging her wrist free from Robbie’s grasp, she started toward Noël’s stall, halting as the farmer said, “Well, I’d be right grateful for that. I miss Bess’s baking something fierce.”

She felt sadness twinge in her chest.

“What kind of pie do you like best?” Kayleigh asked.

“I’m partial to mince this time of year,” the farmer said.

“I don’t know if Mama makes those,” Kayleigh said.

“Mama can make
any
kind of pie,” Brianna said with certainty.

Surprise and pleasure suffused Holly. It was good to know that her girls saw her as more competent than she saw herself. “Well, that’s all the time they have to work their magic.” She headed toward the donkey’s stall. “I need to get us all back to school.”