Read Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6) Online

Authors: Lorraine Beatty

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Spirituality, #Love Inspired, #Christmas, #Holiday Season, #Holiday Time, #Christmas Wishes, #Bachelor, #Small Town, #Mississippi, #Dover, #Christmas Celebrations, #Single Mother, #Event Planning Business, #Family Business, #Traditions, #Storm Threat, #Join Forces, #Searching, #Family Life

Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6) (4 page)

BOOK: Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6)
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“I’ll go look for it right now.”

“Okay, that would be, uh...” She stared at the paper in her hands. “Great. I’ll get it when I return the forms.”

Gemma hurried down the steps, careful to not trip. Blood roared in her ears; every nerve in her body was on fire. Of all the dumb clichés. Tripping and having the big strong man catch her. Ugh. She didn’t need a big strong guy. Least of all one who had an ego larger than the entire state of Mississippi.

Safely inside the cottage, Gemma sat at the table and began filling out the form. Gil Montgomery’s name was listed as coach, and she wished he was still here to fill that role. Though she had to admit Linc had suggested the team to Evan and followed through by making sure they got the paperwork. And she couldn’t forget how he’d brought the pie. He hadn’t wanted to come, but he had because he honored his mother. A commandment she herself struggled with.

Linc was challenging her assumptions about him. She’d got a glimpse of the man behind the stony facade and it wasn’t at all what she expected. Maybe he wasn’t all bad. Just mostly.

Her conscience twitched as she remembered her words to him on the porch.
Little substance
. While she might believe that, she shouldn’t have voiced her opinion. She’d meant her comments to be teasing, but some of her deep-seated bitterness had crept into her tone. Linc’s eyes had filled with a flash of hurt and surprise. She’d obviously pricked his ego with her statement. She shouldn’t waste too much time feeling remorse. He’d get over it.

What mattered now was getting this paperwork back to him so Evan could play ball this weekend. Her son was her life. She’d endure anything for his sake, including standing on the sidelines while Linc coached the team.

But for some reason she still felt bad about labeling him. Even if it were true.

* * *

Linc pivoted and strode back into the house, scolding himself for letting his tenant’s words get to him.
Little substance.
She obviously didn’t think much of him. But what disturbed him more was the reaction she’d unleashed when he’d pulled her into his arms to keep her from falling down the brick steps.

She’d been warm and soft cradled against him. Her scent had disrupted his senses and sent his thoughts pinballing in a dozen different directions. She felt right in his arms and he’d wanted to hold her forever. She’d felt it, too. The awareness. He’d seen it in her eyes. But he also knew she’d deny it. Maybe he could change her opinion of him.

“Linc!”

He recognized the shout. His sister Victoria was here. He met her in the hall. “Hey, sis. Everything okay?”

She glanced around the room, tears welling in her eyes. “No. Nothing is okay. I miss him so much.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do?” Here was his chance to step up and fill in for Dad.

“No. I came to tell you that I’m going away for a while.”

Linc clenched his teeth and stepped away. Why was everyone leaving? “Tori, this is no time to be running away. We need to stick together. Mom will be home soon and she’ll need you here. She needs
all
of us more than ever now.”

His sister shook her head and brushed away tears. “I can’t handle being around the house without Dad here. I’m going to visit my friend Judy in California. It’ll give me time to sort things out.”

“Why can’t you do that here?”

Her eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips together. “I knew you’d say that. Why does it matter? Gil and Beth aren’t here, either.”

“Bethany is working, and Gil is fighting for custody of his daughter.”

“And I’m fighting for my sanity.” She shook her head, scowling. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. You’re not like the rest of us.”

He planted his hands on his hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t feel like we do. You’re not emotional.”

He winced. Gemma had said the same thing. Didn’t they understand he felt just as deeply as anyone else? He simply chose not to expose his emotions for the world to see.

Tori reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Linc. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I know you’re hurting, too. See how upset I am? I need to get away.”

“You mean run away. Like Mom.”

“It’s not running away, it’s stepping aside and trying to deal with the grief.” She slipped her arm around his waist. “It’s too fresh here, Linc, too raw. I need to get some perspective. That’s why Mom went to Aunt Mary’s. It’s too hard to sort through the pain when you’re surrounded by memories.”

“Some of us have to stay and deal with the realities.”

“You’re the big brother. You can handle anything.” Tori patted his cheek. “I already told Mom. I’ll keep in touch, promise.”

“What about the real estate office? I thought you were running it while she’s gone.”

“Mom said to close it down. Business is slow. Besides, she’ll be home in a few days.”

Linc walked his sister to the front porch. He’d never felt as helpless, like a catfish floundering on a dock. The harder he tried to keep the family together the faster they seemed to pull away. It didn’t make any sense.

Tori stopped on the porch and faced him. “I love you, big brother. We all depend on you. Now that Dad is... You’re our rock.” She wrapped him in a warm hug.

Did Tori have any idea the weight of that responsibility? “You’ll be home for Thanksgiving, won’t you?”

“I don’t think I could celebrate without Dad here. It will be too awful.” She glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

He looked around and saw Gemma standing at the edge of the sidewalk holding the registration forms. “Done already?”

“Evan is eager to be on the team.”

“Gemma, this is my baby sister, Victoria. Tori, this is Gemma Butler, she’s...”

“Taking over Mom’s job. I know.” She stepped forward and shook Gemma’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Mom thinks you’re very talented. I can’t wait to see all the changes you’ll make. It’s about time we expanded our Christmas events. It’s the happiest time of the year and we barely do anything.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Linc started to protest, but Tori said goodbye and hurried to her car. Even Tori knew about the new tenant. Gemma handed the paperwork to Linc. “Your sister seems very nice.”

“She’s leaving. She can’t handle being around memories of Dad.” He hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

“Oh. Were they close?”

“Very. She’s the youngest so—” He shrugged. “You know how dads and their baby girls are.”

“No, actually I don’t.”

Linc looked at her. There was an emptiness and a hint of sadness in her eyes. “You’re not close to your father?”

“No. Is that all you need? I’ve attached a check.”

Linc looked at the papers. “Yeah. That should do it.”

“Fine. I’ll get directions to the ball field later. Did you find the key?”

The businesslike tone of her voice said she was eager to be away from him. “No. I haven’t had a chance to look. I didn’t expect you back so soon. I’ll let you know when I do.”

“Good. I’d like to get started. I’ve got a lot to organize.”

She walked away, leaving Linc with a lot of questions. What changes? The over-the-top stuff he’d seen in her drawings? What was wrong with their events the way they were now? And why was he always the last one to know anything lately? Even Tori, who’d been a virtual recluse these past weeks, had known about Gemma and their mother’s plans to step down from the committee. He’d had enough. Time to get involved.

He walked back inside, another question dogging his heels. What was behind the cold tone in Gemma’s voice when she mentioned family? And why did she never talk about the boy’s father?

* * *

Gemma sorted through her papers and notes Wednesday afternoon as she waited for the town square business owners to start arriving at the courthouse conference room. Her nerves tingled with excitement as she worked. This was her joy, the thing that gave her satisfaction and fulfillment. She couldn’t wait to get started.

Glancing at the door, her confidence sagged. What if no one showed up? What if the owners refused to participate in the celebrations? Closing her eyes, she offered up a quick prayer for patience and greater faith. The Lord had set her on this path, which meant He had a plan. She just needed to trust it would work out. Operative word—
trust
. Not an easy thing to do.

“Is this the Christmas meeting?”

Gemma smiled at the gentleman who entered the room, her doubts melting away like snowflakes. “Yes, it is.”

Within the next few minutes a good portion of the forty store owners on the square filed in. She stepped to the lectern, encouraged at the turnout. With little time before the start of the holiday season, it would take everyone’s involvement to pull off the four weekend events she had designed.

“Welcome. I’m Gemma Butler. I’ve spoken with some of you by phone and met a few of you. Thank you for being here this afternoon. I know meeting in the middle of the day is difficult for you, but we don’t have much time to get these events organized. We’ll meet again next Thursday evening. I’ll have a more detailed plan drawn up at that time.” Gemma smiled around the room. “Keep in mind the key ingredient is enthusiasm and determination. And of course a lot of elbow grease.”

A man in the front row spoke up. “I don’t mind the work, but I don’t have the money to spend on lots of decorations.”

“I understand that, and we do have a budget that will help you with some of the expenses. Mainly I want to work with each merchant to craft a unique holiday display that will reflect your business. Our goal is to draw people to Dover to learn about your shops, to expose them to the unique personality of the town and make them want to make future trips to Dover to spend their time and their money.”

A woman raised her hand. “I’m an insurance agent. Putting up a tree in my front window isn’t likely to gain me any new clients. I’m reluctant to spend too much time on Christmas events that won’t help my bottom line.”

“That raises a good point. I’d like you to think of this on a larger scale than one business. It’s true some of your businesses lend themselves to the holidays more than others—the dress shops and gift shops, for example. But if visitors see how your community works together for the good of all, think what kind of message that sends. That would make Dover a place I’d want to visit, perhaps even come to live, and that would benefit every business in town.”

Agreeable murmurs traveled through the room. “I’ve heard about the way this town comes together. One of the first things I heard was the way everyone worked together recently to get the library open on time. And I understand you all participated in a home-rebuilding project to help a local family. That’s the kind of dedication we need now. Let me run through the events quickly. One for each December weekend. Though the Chamber will mainly be responsible for the events in the first two.”

Gemma shuffled the papers in front of her. “Week one will be the Dover Glory Lights kickoff, a special lighting ceremony to start the season. Instead of each store doing their own lights, there will be an overall plan for the downtown. All the lights will be hung on the buildings, over the streets around the square, and the decorations for the courthouse park will be set up. On Friday night, vendors will offer food and drink and at one point, all the lights downtown will go dark. Then we’ll throw the switch and turn on all the decorations at once. It will be breathtaking. People will come from miles to see the large light display.”

A woman on the aisle nodded. “That’s true. We drive all the way to Natchitoches, Louisiana, every year to see those lights along the Cane River.”

“Exactly! And the second weekend in December will be our open-house weekend to showcase our businesses with our decorated windows. I’d like you each to be thinking of a way to create a Christmas window display that will evoke the spirit of the season and your company. There will be a contest for the top five windows. Visitors can vote here in town or online. Davis Blaylock at the
Dover Dispatch
is offering two months’ free advertising for the winners.”

A voice from the back called out, “I could sure use that.”

Gemma spent the next forty-five minutes answering questions and assuring people that her weekend events could be accomplished with cooperation, minimum of cost and plenty of professional help. As she concluded the meeting she sensed excitement in the air. A swell of joy filled her throat. The owners were in agreement that pumping up the holiday events was vital to recuperating some of the sales lost when the Southways plant closed down last year and tossed over a hundred people out of work.

Several owners stopped by to express their delight in the events and pledge their support. Now it was up to her to make the necessary arrangements and coordinate all the bits and pieces.

“What happened to the Christmas parade?”

Gemma started at the sound of the deep voice. Linc’s voice. It was hard to ignore once you’d heard it. Rich and smooth, it flowed along her nerves like warm honey. She looked into his blue eyes and suddenly found it difficult to swallow. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been in the back, listening to your pitch.”

His intense navy blue eyes zeroed in on her, making her forget his question. “The parade?”

“It’s a tradition. Has been since I was a kid. We all looked forward to it each year. There’s going to be a lot of kids disappointed if it’s canceled.”

Linc’s tone suggested that she should reinstate it at once. But she knew what he didn’t. “I doubt that. According to the reports I have the parade has shrunk in size over the last five years, and attendance has fallen to a trickle.” She tapped an app on her cell and swiped to the right page. “Last year there were only three floats, a fire truck and the Santa float. One police officer was assigned for crowd control and the parade lasted barely fifteen minutes.” She smiled up at Linc. “Is that the tradition you’re referring to?” A muscle in Linc’s jaw flexed.

“I know you’re new here and you’re not familiar with our Christmas traditions. But we cherish our celebrations. We like the way it’s been done in the past. It works for us.”

BOOK: Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6)
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