Love Finds You in Frost Minnesota (19 page)

“Greta is going to be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“I find it ironic that we always had more money than anyone knew what to do with. That’s obvious with this land mess. I never thought about money because it was never an issue.” His expression darkened. “And I always had something else to dwell on, absorbed in my own grief.”

“So you had all the money you wanted and yet you are unhappy. And Greta’s family has nothing and she loves life.”

“We’re an odd crew—human beings.”

“Are you getting all philosophical on me?” Merry teased.

“You’re right. I’m better off taking a nap.” Jack touched her shoulder gently as he left the room.

His touch caused a delightful but disturbing flutter in Merry’s midsection.

Chapter Nineteen

• • • • • • • • • • • •

While he slept, Merry waited on last-minute shoppers and thought about Jack.

“You’re quiet today,” Abby commented. “Not enough business for you?” She referred to the dwindling number of shoppers they had.

“No. This is usually the way it is. People are home wrapping presents and cooking. Business will pick up again on Christmas Eve when people realize they need just one more stocking stuffer or that Aunt Georgette is coming to dinner after all.”

“Then what are you thinking about?”

“Jack.” She might as well be honest, Merry decided. He was occupying more and more of her thoughts recently. Besides, Abby knew her well enough to deduce the truth anyway.

“You’re falling for him, aren’t you?” Abby began to straighten a row of elves.

“Is it so obvious?”

“Probably not to anyone but me. Too bad Jack doesn’t know his own feelings, let alone yours.”

“What do you mean by that?” Abby’s discernment surprised her.

“He’s attracted to you, but I’m not sure he’s comfortable with it. Don’t you notice that he’ll take your hand or put his arm around your shoulders and then, when he realizes what he’s done, he pulls away like you’re a hot coal? He’s trying to control himself around you.”

“No, I can’t say I have.” Merry felt a little thrill of pleasure at the idea.

“That’s why you are so perfect for each other!” Abby crowed. “You’re both clueless about your emotions. All you think about is Christmas, and all he is interested in is his work. Once you both wake up and realize what’s going on, I’ll bet you won’t be able to stay away from each other!”

“When I wake up from a nightmare?”

“No, to a dream come true. You’ll see.”

“You are a hopeless romantic, Abby. Plus, you have a marvelous fantasy life. How about using some of that mental energy on something important—like who will I find to play the part of Joseph in the Nativity? I’ve got college kids for the five to six and seven to eight o’clock slots, but no one in between when the most people are arriving at the church for dinner. I’ve asked everyone except the men in walkers and wheelchairs and those who need portable oxygen to get around. I’m getting desperate!”

They heard a creak on the stairs as Jack made his way down. He’d fallen asleep again. That much was evident from the pillow crease across his cheek. He looked up to see them staring at him. “What are you looking at?”

Merry and Abby exchanged a triumphant look. “You!”

“You must have better things to do.”

“Not right now,” Merry corrected him. “Jack, do you have long johns with you?”

He smiled a little. “That’s a pretty personal question, isn’t it?”

“Warm clothing, then.”

“Yes.”

“Did you feel any ill effects after being on the porch to watch the parade?”

“None that I’ve noticed.”

“Then is it possible . . . just possible . . . that you’d be able to stand outside the church for a little while tomorrow night?”

“And expose myself to the elements? What kind of nurse are you?” His expression was teasing.

“I’m desperate, okay? And other than being weak, you’re back to your normal self. Will you be Joseph for the living Nativity? It’s important that it look realistic while people are coming to the dinner. When the crowd subsides, I have younger guys to fill in.”

“Why don’t you use them for everything?”

Merry flushed. “Because I’m playing Mary, mother of Christ, and I need someone my own age to balance things out. A pimply high school kid will not look like my Joseph.”

“So vanity has crept into the holiday.”

Merry turned a deeper red and swatted at him. He ducked.

“You’ll do it for me, won’t you? We’ll put a heater in the manger so you don’t get cold. Away from the hay, of course.”

“I’ll bet the real Mary would have liked that.”

“Now you’re teasing. Please?”

“What a great idea!” Abby chortled. “He’ll fit the shepherd’s robes perfectly. Just don’t let the goat chew on the hem like last year.”

“Do you think I’m nuts?” he asked in disbelief. “Me? The one who thinks Christmas should be a solemn, reverent affair?”

“What’s more solemn or reverent than this? I saw a living Nativity when I was a child, and I never forgot it. It’s the first time I realized that Jesus was a living, breathing person just like me. He wasn’t an angelic figure floating among the clouds, but a kid like me! He had a mother and father, was born and died. He’s real! If you can do that for some child, you’ll represent Christmas in the most wonderful way possible.”

He was weakening, she could tell.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake . . .” he growled.
“Yes,” Merry agreed solemnly, “it is.”

* * * * *

Merry trudged across the yard between her house and Hildy’s. The path they usually kept open—from back door to back door—had filled in a little, which meant neither had been traveling it enough. She was worried about her neighbor. Hildy came every day to help in the shop but said little. She walked as if the heaviness of the world’s greatest issues had fallen onto her shoulders. Hildy might not be young in years, but Merry saw her turning old in spirit before her very eyes.

Hildy was slow to answer the door. When she did, her gray hair was mussed and her face slack from sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s good you did. I’ve been sleeping most of the day. I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open.”

Merry knew that was a sign of the depression Hildy seemed to be sinking into.

“What’s wrong, Hildy? We’re friends. You can tell me.”

“It’s something I don’t talk about, and I don’t care to start now. I hope you understand. This is mine to deal with, honey, but thanks for caring.”

“Anytime you change your mind, let me know. I’m here for you.”

Hildy patted Merry’s hand and invited her inside for tea but never raised the subject again.

She told Jack and Vince about the conversation over dinner.

“People deal with things differently,” Jack responded curtly. “It’s not our business to try to change that.”

“But what if it’s destructive? Then they hurt even more than they already suffer.”

“Christ knows not only our thoughts but our answers. The rest of us are just flailing around in the dark and may do more harm than good.” By the tone of his voice he was obviously referring to those who’d tried to help him in the past.

“You two are going to have to agree to disagree,” Vince said with a sigh. “Your life experiences are just too different.”

“If I had Jack’s experience I believe I’d want help! I don’t understand . . .”

Jack laid his hand over Merry’s. “Vince is right. Let’s just agree to disagree, okay?”

She sputtered to a halt. She’d never understand this man! She could see how she could love him, but understand him? Never!

I could love Jack!

Chapter Twenty

• • • • • • • • • • • •

“Are you sure you’re warm enough?” Merry fretted as she tied a burlap sash around Jack’s waist. They were in the church’s family room, preparing for their turn at the living Nativity.

“I’m going to be pouring with sweat if you make me wear one more thing,” he grumbled. “And I’m sure Joseph never wore a turtleneck sweater.”

“It doesn’t show under the costume,” she assured him as she handed him the triangularly folded square of woolen cloth he would wear secured with a circlet on his head. “Do you want to put another stocking cap on under that?” She stood there in her humble garments, looking remarkably sweet and innocent.

Jack knew better. Beneath her shawl lay a bright and devious mind that had somehow convinced him that the thing he wanted to do most was play Joseph. He still wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. Vince had taken her side, and Jack had finally given in. Jack struggled with the headgear until it seemed acceptable and mentally lam-basted his friend.

“You look very handsome.” Merry’s voice was pleased and breathless. “How do I look?”

Jack looked up, and his heart lurched. She looked like an angel. Across from him, on the wall, was a large mirror. They actually did look like a couple from two thousand plus years ago—poor, bewildered, perplexed about their next move, hoping to find a place to have their baby. Something unfamiliar twisted inside Jack.

He believed. He had for as long as he could remember, but seeing someone—even himself—play out the part of the bemused Joseph, the man who had obediently taken a pregnant teenaged wife, was more powerful than he could have imagined. He’d always had faith, but this . . .

Maybe this wasn’t such a dumb idea after all. . . .

“Come on, we’re up next.” Merry tugged on his hand and pulled him to the door.

It wasn’t until then that Jack noticed Vince standing in the doorway, taking photos with his cell phone.

“Knock it off!” Jack barked.

Vince only grinned. “Are you kidding? Nobody back home will believe this if I don’t have pictures.”

Jack mentally put “confiscate camera” on his to-do list.

* * * * *

The barnlike enclosure for the Nativity scene was warmer than Jack had expected. Bales of hay lined the walls and surrounded a tiny crèche. The floodlights, which lit the scene, gave off some heat. The animals warmed the area with their body heat as well—two contented cows munching on hay and a billy goat that wandered around inspecting items that might be edible. There were also assorted dogs lazing about chewing rawhides the pastor had distributed to prevent chaos. The ferret was ensconced in his cage on a hay bale.

As Merry positioned Jack near the manger, he commented, “I’m surprised how comfortable it is.”

“It’s the animals,” Merry told him as she adjusted the tie at his waist. “I’ve been told that barns start to deteriorate when they no longer hold animals. The creatures give off enough body heat to keep the floors warm and prevent them from frosting up and heaving in the winter. Once they are abandoned, however, the frozen ground takes over.”

“A genuine example of ‘if you don’t use it, you lose it,’” Jack marveled.

“We don’t appreciate God’s creatures nearly enough,” Merry said thoughtfully. “We don’t appreciate
Him
enough either. At least we have Christmas to remind us again and again of the Gift we’ve been given.”

Jack couldn’t disagree. He’d found himself softening a little about Merry’s approach to Christmas. Even though it was a somber, reflective time for him, he did see some merit in her attitude. That alone was a big leap for him.

When she was done fussing with the setting, Merry came to stand beside him.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? Where’s the baby Jesus? Didn’t I see the doll lying on the couch in the family room?”

“We’ve got a special delivery,” Merry said. “Here he comes now.”

A young woman with long dark hair walked toward them with the most beautiful baby Jack had ever seen. She laid the child in Merry’s arms. The child had a perfectly round face, pink lips that formed a sweet bow, and dark eyes with long, thick lashes. As Jack stared, the baby put his thumb in his mouth and began to suck, relaxing immediately in Merry’s arms.

The baby’s mother draped a brown fuzzy blanket over the child so that the only portion of the snowsuit that showed was the bit of white around the baby’s head, which looked ever so much like a halo.

“I’ll be back to pick up Matthew after my husband and I have had our lutefisk,” the young woman said. “Thanks for watching him.”

“Thank
you
,” Merry responded. “He’s a beautiful baby Jesus.”

Will surprises ever cease?
Jack wondered.

Merry cuddled the baby to her chest and nestled against Jack’s side. He felt the warmth of her as she fit into the curve of his arm. He could feel her swaying slightly, the natural response to holding a baby in one’s arms, and heard her humming softly.

Away in a manger
. . .

Emotions of all sorts coursed through him as he embraced her and the baby. Protectiveness, gratitude, humility . . . love.

Jack stiffened and Merry glanced up at him, but the baby snuffled and quickly drew her attention away.

He was oblivious to the people walking by them as they entered the church. He heard nothing but Merry crooning to the baby and the child’s happily gurgled responses. He saw nothing but a soft curl peeking out from beneath Merry’s headdress, the sweet profile of her gentle features, and the eyes of the baby, dark and adoring, staring up at her.

The lurch in his stomach should have knocked him off his feet. He was holding the very things he’d never thought he’d have. A beautiful, loving woman, a precious child, a life. Though he hadn’t known it at the time or even put two and two together as an adult, those were the things he’d denied himself after his brother had died. Jamie would never know adulthood, and somehow in his childish mind, Jack had decided he wouldn’t either. He’d cut himself off from everything but work, denied himself the happiness that he might have had, and lived a life that had its own deadness.

All this flooded over him as he stood in the cocoon of the Nativity scene. One of the cows mooed, and the goat brushed against his leg. Merry still swayed gently with the baby in her arms, rhythmically bumping against him . . .