Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday Family\Sugar Plum Season\Her Cowboy Hero\Small-Town Fireman (30 page)

The buzz of voices inside the chapel dragged her back to the present, and she braced herself to go through the open double doors. Sunday had gone well, but for some reason she was nervous about tonight. She'd never suffered from stage fright when she was dancing, but singing in front of so many people was a different thing altogether.

“You'll be fine,” Brenda whispered encouragingly, giving her a quick squeeze around the shoulders. “It's Christmas music, so just hit as many notes as you can. That's what most of us will be doing, anyway.”

Amy laughed, and behind her a familiar voice drawled, “I like the way this is goin' already.”

She spun to find Jason standing there, wearing a grin that made her glad there was no mistletoe around. If there was, even though they were in church she might not have been able to resist stealing a kiss. “How are you tonight?”

The grin deepened, and for the first time she noticed a dimple in his tanned cheek. “Better now.”

“I think someone's looking for me,” Brenda announced, winking at Amy before flouncing away.

“She never was subtle, your cousin.”

“Cheerleaders usually aren't,” Amy pointed out. She debated asking about Rachel, then decided if she didn't, he'd think she was avoiding the subject. Beyond that, remaining in the dark would make her crazy. “How's Rachel doing?”

“As well as you could expect. Turns out Doc Peterson's receptionist quit, and he needed someone to fill in through the holidays till he can hire someone permanently. It's easy, sitting-down work, which is good. Rachel's not all that organized, but she's decent with the computer and on the phone, so it's a good solution for now.”

And then what? Amy was dying to ask, but Mrs. Griggs was calling everyone into the sanctuary, so her answer would have to wait.

Amy eyed the risers hesitantly. There were no handrails, and because of her limited mobility, the vertical distance was a little high for her. She didn't want to make a fool of herself by falling in front of everyone.

In his usual way, Jason came to her rescue, offering his arm. When she was safely standing in the soprano section, she thanked him.

“Anytime.”

Once he'd moved on, Brenda popped up next to her and said, “I forgot my music. Can I share with you?”

“Sure.” Amy opened her folder of music and held it so they could both see.

As the pianist began playing the opening chords of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing,” Brenda murmured, “Just for future reference, I make an excellent matron of honor.”

Out of respect for the pastor's wife, Amy simply shook her head. Despite the overly sentimental rumors flying around town, she and Jason were a long way from choosing a wedding party. In fact, after the disastrous way his last engagement had ended, she wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that he wasn't keen to get serious with anyone. That should have been a huge relief to her, since she wasn't interested in a relationship, either.

But for some strange reason it just made her sad.

* * *

Jason was totally focused on turning a spindle for the back of the rocking chair he was working on, so he didn't realize he had company until his ear protectors disappeared. “What the—”

The rest of his protest trailed off as Jenna Reed dragged him through the workshop and out the back door of the mill house. By his ear.

When she decided they were far enough from the rest of the crew, she let him go, giving him a firm shove for good measure. “What's wrong with you?”

“Well, my ear kinda hurts.” Rubbing it, he glared back at her. “What's your problem?”

Today, her faded denim overalls were covered in stone dust, which told him something of major importance had interrupted her chiseling time. “Are you a complete idiot?”

“Sometimes.” He added a grin, but she merely planted her hands on her hips while the glare hardened into an unforgiving scowl. Sensing humor wasn't the right approach, he spread his hands in a calming gesture. “I give. What's up?”

“What'd I tell you about Amy?”

“That she's been hurt enough, and I should be careful. Which I'm doing.”

“Then how come a customer just told me you've been cozying up with Amy at her place?”

“You hate gossip,” Jason reminded her. “Since when do you listen to anything like that?”

“Since it involves a very good friend—” she narrowed her eyes “—and you.”

He laughed. “Gimme a break. You make me sound like the Big Bad Wolf going after Little Red Riding Hood.”

“Are you?”

The insult stung, and he bit back some pretty harsh words. Something was going on here, and while he didn't understand it, he decided it was best not to further provoke her by retaliating. “You know me better than that.”

“Do I? I've been here six months, and in all that time, I've never seen you with the same girl for more than a couple weeks.”

She had him there, Jason had to admit, but Amy wasn't like those other women. The more time he spent with her, the more she fascinated him. Usually, a few dates were enough to convince him it was time to move on. Between the show and other holiday goings-on around town, he and Amy saw each other every day, and he eagerly looked forward to connecting with her. In fact, he wouldn't have minded if they spent even more time together.

He wasn't ready to share those feelings with anyone else, so he shrugged. “Amy's different.”

“How?” Leaning against a nearby tree, Jenna folded her arms with a curious expression. It beat the looks she'd been giving him, and he relaxed a little.

“She's smart and funny,” he began, then couldn't keep back a smile. “And she's still the prettiest thing I've ever seen.”

“Prettier than Rachel?”

“To me, she is.”

“Spare me,” Jenna scoffed. “Even eight months pregnant, Rachel's gorgeous. I can't imagine how she is on a normal day.”

Being male, he couldn't deny she held the more obvious appeal. But Amy's appearance was more refined, and she had an elegant style no woman he'd ever met could match. More reserved by nature, she kept a lot to herself, and that only made her more captivating to him. While he considered how to explain his preference, something clicked into place for him, and he smiled. “Guess I outgrew Barbie dolls. Now I want something else.”

“Meaning Amy?”

“Maybe,” he allowed, still unwilling to discuss this with Jenna when he hadn't brought it up with the lady in question. “But only if that's what she wants. We're about as different as two people can get, and I've got no plans to change. I'm figuring she doesn't, either. Which is fine with me, 'cause I think she's perfect the way she is.”

“I'm not big on compromise myself, so I get that.” Apparently satisfied with the result of her interrogation, she pushed off from the tree. “Okay, I'm going. But you watch your step, JB. I've got my eye on you.”

“Good to know,” he tossed back, getting a smack on the shoulder in reply. While he watched her get into her van, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw the caller ID and answered. “Hey, Mom. What's up?”

“I'm with your grandparents, and we need you here right now.”

The line went dead before he could ask for details, and his pulse shot into the stratosphere. Going back inside to explain would only waste time, so he ran for his truck, dialing as he went. “Chelsea, I'm headed to Gram and Granddad's. Tell Paul.”

He ground the engine into gear and flew down the pitted lane, ducking reflexively from the stones pelting his windows. It couldn't be Granddad, logic told him, or Mom would've called in Paul and Chelsea, too. That meant something had happened to Gram, and Jason pulled in long, deep breaths to combat the dread seizing his heart. He took one curve a little too fast and frantically steered the truck back onto the dirt road. Easing back on the gas, he reminded himself he couldn't help anyone if he crashed into a tree on the way into town.

The drive felt twice as long as on a normal day, but he finally made it home. Leaving his door open and the cranky engine running, he ran up the front steps and into the dining room. Granddad was even paler than usual, and he pointed toward the kitchen. “They're in there.”

“Is Gram okay?”

“More or less. I tried to get up and help them, but they won't let me.”

Jason realized his panic was the last thing anyone needed to see right now, so he forced calm into his voice. “Can I get you anything?”

“I'm fine. See to your grandmother.”

He didn't look fine, but Jason obeyed him out of habit. In the kitchen, he found the two women who'd raised him sitting on the floor. Gram's arm was at an odd angle, resting on an overturned pot padded with towels.

Hunkering down, he summoned a little humor. “I've heard those things work better upright on the stove.”

“Oh, you,” Gram chided him in a shaky voice that scared him down to his boots. Resolute and strong, she inspired the Barrett family with her faith and unrelenting optimism. Seeing her this way was a stark warning that in a heartbeat, things he'd relied on his entire life could change.

Firmly shutting the negative thought away, he glanced around and noticed a three-step stool on its side. Obviously, she'd wanted something from one of the high cupboards and needed the stool to reach it. Even though he knew it was pointless, he felt awful for not being there. “You couldn't wait for me?”

“Don't you be giving me those guilty eyes, young man. You were at work, and I'm perfectly capable of fetching things on my own.”

There was no sense in debating that, so he asked, “Is it broken?”

“I'm not sure,” Mom replied with a frown. “X-rays are the only way to know, but she refuses to go to the hospital.”

“I'm not leaving Will,” Gram insisted stubbornly.

This brought to mind why he hated playing chess. He always got into some kind of standoff with his opponent, and he couldn't come up with a way to get out of it. But this was real life, and he couldn't throw in the towel just because things had gotten dicey. Then he had a brainstorm, and he prayed it would work. “Then we'll bring him with us. Where's that wheelchair?”

Gram sent a worried look into the dining room, and Jason took advantage of her distraction to wink at his mother. Her raised eyebrow told him she understood, and he kept his expression neutral when his grandmother's eyes settled back on him. When they narrowed, he knew she was onto him, but at least she nodded.

“All right, you win,” she finally agreed. “Who's taking me to the hospital?”

“My truck's already running,” he answered, standing to get her a sweater from its hook near the back door. Holding it up so she could slide her uninjured arm into one sleeve, he looped the rest around her and did up the top two buttons to hold it closed. Hoping to lighten the mood a little, he chuckled. “I remember when you used to do this for me, Gram.”

“Now I'd need a ladder,” she responded with a fond smile. “Hand me my purse, would you?”

“No, but I'll carry it for you.” Dangling the strap over his forearm, he held the other one out for her. “Ready?”

“I suppose. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll be back.”

“That's my girl,” he approved heartily. Her ability to cope with bad situations never failed to amaze him.

“I'll keep an eye on Will and have lunch ready when you get back,” Mom promised, patting his shoulder while they passed by. “If you need me for anything, just call.”

After very carefully helping his grandmother into his truck, Jason got in beside her and drove the ten miles to the hospital in nearby Cambridge as smoothly as possible. The emergency-room nurse was a plump woman with dark, sparkling eyes and a Christmas tree pin on her smock that blinked with multicolored lights.

Tsking with sympathy, she gently guided Gram toward an exam room. “You come with me, honey, and we'll get you fixed up in a blink.”

Since she was already in their computer system, all Jason had to do was confirm nothing had changed since they'd treated Gram for pneumonia earlier in the year. After that, he slumped in a waiting-room chair and finally released the iron grip he'd kept on his emotions. It was how he handled a crisis, and it worked well until things settled down and he had a chance to come to terms with what had happened.

As a family, the Barretts had all learned to live with the constant threat of a health issue with Granddad. When you loved someone who had terminal cancer, that kind of acceptance came with the territory. But a problem with Gram was something else entirely.

Their family orbited around her like the sun, and if anything happened to her, Jason feared Granddad wouldn't be physically strong enough to survive her loss.

She's fine,
he told himself sternly.
It's only her wrist.
His next thought flipped to Rachel, who'd surely call him in a panic when she went into labor. She had no one else to turn to, and while she and her baby weren't technically his responsibility, he'd already decided that when the time came, he'd be there for them. That trip would be a hundred times more stressful than this one, he knew. Was he ready for it?

Suddenly, he was exhausted, and he bent over, dangling his arms over his knees while he stared at the speckled tiles on the floor. Footsteps hurried toward him, and he lifted his head to find himself gazing into Amy's worried eyes.

“Is your grandmother okay?”

“They're doing X-rays soon, so we'll know more then. How'd you know I was here?”

“Your mom called me,” she explained as she took the seat beside him. “She didn't want you here by yourself, pacing and hounding the nurses for information they don't have.”

He'd been about five minutes from doing just that, he realized, and he marveled at how well Mom knew him. “That was nice of her, but I hate to drag you over here. Don't you have your Ballet Tots class at noon?”