A Holiday To Remember

“And modest, too. That’s a change from the men I’ve been around lately.”

“Can’t be much of a man if he isn’t humble.”

“Exactly.” She smiled; it was an honest smile.

For a moment he saw past the polite veneer and cool distance into something brighter. Maybe it was just a trick of the gray light from above or his falling blood sugar. He’d delayed his lunch hour so he could be here for Ben’s half sister. More importantly, he’d wanted to meet this woman. He was protective of his good friend.

“I imagine it was hard finding out that you have an older brother,” he heard himself saying.

“You have no idea.” She said it kindly but as if there was more to it. “I was just as shocked to learn of Ben, as Ben was to learn he was related to us. I’m still trying to adjust. It’s strange going from being the oldest to the second out of the blue.”

There was pain there, Jonah realized, a pain she quickly battled down. Okay, he had sympathy for that. He understood inner pain—it haunted him every moment of every day, and he didn’t know what to say to her.

She broke the silence, gesturing toward the crib. “Is this for Ben’s baby, Joseph?”

“No, this is for some good friends of mine, and of Ben’s, too. Ross and Kelly Van Zandt’s baby boy. He arrived a little earlier than expected.”

“Is that the same Kelly from the adoption agency? Ben mentioned her.” Debra glanced at her daughter, who was still staring at him. “Mia, where are your manners?”

“It’s okay,” he added quickly, wondering if the waiflike girl was a little scared of him. She wouldn’t be the first. “Are you wondering why I’m so big? God made me this way so I could serve His purpose.”

“What purpose?” Mia asked, wide-eyed. “Are you a Christian, too? Which church do you go to?”

She looked up at him with curiosity in her big innocent eyes, her cupid’s face wreathed with expectation. Cute kid, obviously sheltered and privileged and well cared for, just as a child should be. He battled down images of the world he’d seen—not good images, where children were not so safe and protected. He noticed the gold chain and cross at her throat. “Yes, I’m a Christian. I belong to the Chestnut Grove Community Church.”

“That pretty one with the big steeple that looks like it belongs in a storybook?”

“That’s the one.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, wow.” Debra squelched an inner groan. Irrepressible Mia felt that everyone should be saved. It was a nice sentiment, but unrealistic. She’d taken so many hard blows lately between her mom’s passing and then over the truth about her mom’s past, these days she was putting faith in God right up there on the shelf with her thoughts about Santa Claus. Nice, but not relevant to her life.

That sounded harsh, but she was a grown woman who’d gotten where she was with hard work, determination and having to face adult responsibilities without a lot of help.

Okay, there she went again when she had vowed to focus on Mia and the trip. Time for a change in subject. “Mia, come on. Let’s wait in the reception area and let Mr. Fraser get back to his work. I’m sure we’re inconveniencing him.”

“But, Mom!” Mia’s jaw dropped in utter disbelief. “Can’t you see we’re talking about God?”

“I thought you were about to pry into Mr. Fraser’s personal life and make sure he’s really a Christian, the way you did with the gas-station attendant this morning. The way you do with everyone you meet.”

To her surprise, the big, stony Mr. Fraser smiled. He wasn’t quite as fearsome when he did. The granite line of his square jaw softened and his hard mouth that could have been sculpted from stone warmed into a handsome smile. He had straight, even white teeth and a sincerity that made him striking.

She felt a frisson of interest as pure as the snowflakes fluttering down from the heavens. This man perplexed her. He was apparently part weightlifter and part legend with an artist’s soul.

“Call me Jonah,” he said. “When I hear Mr. Fraser, I think my dad is standing behind me. Besides, the little lady isn’t inconveniencing me or prying.”

“You truly are a kind man to say so,” Debra found herself saying. “Mia has better manners than that—”

“Reverend Fraser is your dad?” Mia interrupted, in direct contradiction.

What was a mother to do? Mia had a strong spirit and a stubborn streak, not unlike herself at that age. Debra caught Mr. Fraser’s—Jonah’s—gaze and watched his smile deepen until it warmed the cool depths of his eyes.

He was definitely a different kind of man than she was used to being around, but suddenly she was no longer intimidated by the rugged strength of him. Whatever else Jonah Fraser may be, she bet he was a teddy bear at heart because he turned patiently to Mia and his manner was genuinely kind. “Why don’t you come to Sunday service and I’ll introduce you to him? At least, I’m guessing that you’ll be attending with Ben and his family.”

“Ye-ah.” Mia rolled her eyes heavenward as if there couldn’t possibly be any other answer, so why did he bother asking?

It seemed like everywhere she turned, there was the conflict over Mia’s faith—and Debra’s lack of conviction. But what could she say to such a kindly meant invitation? “We’ll talk about Sunday later, Mia.”

“Mo-om!”

“We were going to take this visit one day at a time, remember?” Time for another change in topic. The trouble was, why did her first thoughts turn to Jonah and finding out more about him? “How long have you been making such beautiful furniture?”

“Oh, I’ve always been fairly handy.” He eased forward, his shoulder dipping slightly to compensate for his limp. “I’ve always worked with wood in one way or another—”

Mia broke in. “You didn’t want to be a minister like your dad?”

Debra inwardly cringed. Was Mia wound up today or what? “Mia, you know better than to interrupt.”

“It’s all right.” Jonah’s baritone rang with patience and good humor as he drew up a metal stool and eased his big frame onto it. “I thought very seriously about joining the ministry, but I didn’t feel a real calling to do it. There’s another reason, too. I like to write, but I’m not so good with talking in front of a crowd. If I had to talk to a congregation, I’d stammer and forget my sermon, and my looking like a fool wouldn’t help anyone.”

There was something innately noble about him. She could see it now, as his quiet tough-guy manner softened a bit. He radiated a subtle but unmistakable strength of character.

Drawn to him, Debra came closer and rested the hot mug on the table. She did want to know more about this man. Something told her he was interesting. His combination of brawny toughness and shy woodworker intrigued her. “You look like a man who could never be a fool.”

“Well, I suppose you mean that as a compliment and I thank you for it, but I’ve made mistakes like anyone else. Maybe more than most.” Sadness, or maybe it was regret, shadowed his expressive eyes. His face turned stony. “I wound up following a calling I was more suited to rather than following my dad’s path.”

“You have more courage than I did at the time. Instead of following my dreams or my calling, I followed my mother’s path in life. Same college, graduate school and then I went to work for my family’s company.”

“There’s no shame in that, none at all. Ben tells me that you’re in publishing?”

“Yes.” Was it her imagination or was he intentionally changing the subject? Well, she could do that, too. “Do you regret not following your father’s path? Or are you content with your choices?”

“Some days, yes. Some days, no.” His easiness vanished and he looked sad again. “Life never turns out the way you expect.”

“Or want.” They apparently had that in common. She felt so many emotions begin to work their way into words; emotions she’d not really taken out to examine in a good long time. “We get caught up in what we should do. What we ought to be. What we mean to do. It never turns out the way you intend.”

“That’s why I love my job here, working at building things. It’s nothing like real life with tragedy and things you can never reconcile. When I sit down to make a piece of furniture, there’s only the doing of it. The feel of the wood in my hands, rough at first, then the shaping of it, the sanding and carving and finishing. If it doesn’t come out as I intended, nine times out of ten it comes out better.”

“I wish life could be that way.”

“Me, too.”

Jonah wondered if she had any idea how transparent she was at that moment. Her icy career woman’s veneer was down and the wintry daylight burnished her with a silver glow. He could see the longing in her eyes for something—he didn’t know her at all, so he couldn’t guess at what that might be—before her practical side won over and the moment was gone.

It was a puzzle what a put-together woman like Debra, who looked like she had it going on, would have to regret in life. Ben hadn’t mentioned if Debra had a husband. Jonah didn’t see a wedding ring on her slender, manicured hands. Had she suffered through a divorce? A painful marriage?

It still amazed him that she didn’t look old enough to have a teenage daughter. She looked so young herself. Her heart-shaped face was luminous, reminding him of the female leads in those black-and-white movies—so radiant and serene, peaceful and timeless. What could a woman with so much going for her have to regret?

He thought of his own failures, of the men he’d failed. The remembrance settled like a weight on his soul. What would she think of him if she knew?

“Mom! Mom!” The girl had moved to the far side of the crib, kneeling down to inspect the turned legs. “I’ve got the best idea ever.”

Debra smiled and it only made her lovelier. “I live in fear of your best ideas.”

“But this really is the best one! You gotta come look. Please?”

Debra pushed away from the table. “I’m going to admire your handiwork again. How long does it take for you to build something like this, from start to finish?”

“As long as it takes to do it right.”

“You’re not a man who bills by the hour?”

“Only by the job.” What else could he say to that? He supposed a woman with her business background had a clear understanding of profit margins and whatnot, but he didn’t care so much. How did he say it was the reward of the job well done and to the best of his ability? It was something no one could pay him for. It was something he didn’t know how to explain.

Mia studied him over the top of the frame. “Do you make other stuff, too? Like beds?”

“Sure. I finished a bedroom set before this.”

“You mean, a bed and a dresser? Really?”

“Unbelievable, but true.”

Mia clasped her hands as if in prayer. “Could you make one for me? Can he, Mom? Please, please, please?”

I should have seen this coming, Debra thought as she tugged at her jacket cuffs, straightening them, giving her a chance to think. Saying no was on the tip of her tongue—they’d talked about redoing Mia’s room, but that was before she went away to school. Lately, they’d had bigger topics to discuss, like meeting Ben for the first time, the changes in their family and the changes in what they knew to be true about her mother. All the issues that seemed to tear them apart even further. The bedroom remodel had been pushed onto the back burner.

Mia’s radar apparently was sensing weakness because she abandoned the lovely crib to grab hold of Debra’s hand. “Please? You said you’d think about new stuff for my room and that was a long time ago. I’ve been patient and everything.”

“I know, sweet pea. We did talk about new furniture—”

Before she could say a single word more, Mia gave a squeal of delight. “Yes! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Across the scuffed worktable, Jonah was grinning at her. Grinning. As if he found this to be highly amusing. It was an all-out, full-scale smile that knocked her socks off, she believed the term went. She’d never quite experienced such a reaction before. She was certain that her toes were at least tingling as the big man met her gaze.

For a fraction of a moment, it felt as if the world stopped spinning. As if time stood still. She couldn’t explain it and before she could analyze it, Jonah tore his gaze away and pulled out a battered three-ring binder from a nearby shelf. As if nothing had happened between them, as if nothing had changed whatsoever, he went to work thumbing through the binder, holding it open in one big hand. With an economy of movement, he slipped the binder onto the table between them.

“Here are a few snapshots of a bedroom set I’ve done in the same pattern.” He gazed at her with a knowing look, as if he knew she’d already made up her mind to get the entire set.

Him leaning over the table to show her the page made her draw closer. So close, with only the book separating them, she could see that his eyes, which appeared black from a distance, were really a striking dark brown with flecks of gold. This close, she could see that a faint shadow clung to his jaw as if he hadn’t shaved that morning. He smelled like soap and he looked even more invincible. The strong presence that he projected intensified, and she could see the rapid beat of his pulse in his neck. There was no doubt about it, if she’d come across this man in an abandoned alley, her first reaction would be alarm. But down deep, she knew on an instinctive level that Jonah Fraser was all man, and he was a very good one.

Why on earth was she noticing the furniture maker and not the furniture? What had come over her? Debra mentally shook herself and forced her gaze down to the plastic-covered pages where snapshots, neatly taken, displayed a breathtaking cherrywood bedroom set. Obliviously hand tooled to perfection.

“Mia, why don’t you come look at this?” The words tumbling out of her mouth didn’t sound like hers at all. This wasn’t like her. Why? She took a step back and to the side as her daughter approached. “This should be your decision, kid. This will be your furniture for a long time to come.”

“Wow! Cool, Mom.” Mia bounced against the table.

Now, if only she could focus on the lovely furniture they were about to buy instead of the man towering over her. Goodness, she hadn’t been intrigued by a man romantically since Mia’s father had walked out on her. That was the day she’d closed the door to her heart and locked it for good—or for at least until Mia was grown. So what was going on?

Quiet Jonah had opened that door to her feelings, she realized. Impossibly, in a matter of moments, he’d done what no other man had been able to do for the last thirteen years.

Suddenly she realized it was silent and that both Mia and Jonah were staring at her expectantly. Had she missed something? Her mind scrambled to try to figure out what it could have been. The last thing she remembered was the furniture.

It wasn’t like her to check out like that or to notice a man—any man—so strongly that she lost track of what was going on around her.

“You don’t like the sleigh bed?” Mia asked in distress.

“Oh, baby, I think it’s lovely.” Okay, she was back on track. She brushed her fingertip across the plastic photo-sleeve page, trying to ignore Jonah’s gaze, a brush against the side of her face.

Had he guessed that she was curious about him? How embarrassing. There was no way she could look him in the eye now. She stared hard at the page and hoped beyond hope her voice would sound normal—or at least not so vulnerable.

“This is truly an incredible set. You do amazing work, Jonah.”

“Everything I do is custom. If you want a different piece than I’ve got here, I’ll sketch something up for you. You name it, I’ll build it.”

He had the warmest baritone, as cozy in sound as a fire in a hearth, inviting you closer. Debra truly wished she wasn’t affected.

Mia planted her elbows on the table. “And, like, maybe a desk, huh, Jonah?”

His fathomless gaze softened. “What kind? How ’bout a lady’s writing desk? Good for studying or using your computer but looks pretty, too. Won’t take up a lot of room.”

“Yes!” Mia put on her most innocent look. “I can have that, too, right, Mom?”

“Right.” Fighting hard to keep her thoughts on their business transaction, she tapped on the page. “We’d be interested in a dresser and a chest of drawers, too. Maybe a chair?”

“A rocking chair?” Mia’s eyes widened. “And, like, a cedar chest, you know, to put at the end of the bed and sit on?”

Jonah’s chuckle was a warm surprise. “I could do that.”

He had wonderfully strong hands and thick, scarred fingers that looked like he could do anything—and had. There was something in his shadowed eyes, something in the tense angle of his jaw, the way he kept his feelings carefully controlled that made her wonder more about him. About where he’d been and what he’d done. Why he limped. Why a man who looked strong and capable enough to save the world was making furniture in a carpentry shop in Chestnut Grove.

He’s not any of your business, Debra, she reminded herself.

He moved a bit closer, turning the page of his book to show a photograph of a similar bedroom set. She hardly noticed the writing desk that made Mia gasp for the man whose gaze found hers.

In that moment, between the beat of her heart and the next, it felt as if time stretched again. She saw a glimpse of the answers—and of the man—in his expressive gold-flecked eyes. In the raw pain that moved across his handsome face.

Before she could begin to wonder, the outside door snapped open, a gust of frigid air rolled between them and her heart started beating again. The moment was gone, time marched on and Jonah lifted one hand in a welcoming greeting to the newcomer, leaving Debra wondering if she’d imagined the moment.

But before she could think on it any further, Mia was shouting. “Uncle Ben! Mom, it’s Uncle Ben!”

And all questions—and curiosity—about Jonah Fraser were put on hold.

Chapter Three

Debra watched Ben close the door against the cascade of snow that had tumbled in with him. Her half brother. She still couldn’t get over it.

“Whew,” he said, unwrapping the muffler from around his throat. “It’s really starting to come down out there. Mia, it’s good to see you again. You’re looking very Christmassy.”

“It’s my new sweater. See? It has real bells on it.” The girl jumped up and down until the tiny bells sewn into the sweater tinkled cheerfully. “I’m so glad you came back!”

“I wouldn’t miss you and your mom’s visit for the world.” Ben had a kind look to him, a down-to-earth quality that it was hard not to like.

And she’d tried, Debra thought. Big-time. She didn’t want to like him. She still didn’t want to like him, but he had a friendly smile that was hard not to return. A few months ago, he’d come out to Maryland to meet them. While it had gone fairly well, she still wasn’t ready to welcome him with open arms. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if his claim to the family was a good, positive thing, or if it would turn out to be something they all regretted. You couldn’t see a person’s true motives in one meeting and a few phone calls.

Sure, call her wary, but she felt that, unlike other members of her family, Ben needed to prove himself a good man before she accepted him. She was determined to keep her defenses up.

“Debra.” He nodded once in greeting, glancing over the top of Mia’s brown hair. He looked a little stiff, too, and a little wary.

She knew just how he felt. There was no telling where this would go. Meeting one another had been one thing, but to try to establish a relationship? That involved risk; someone—especially Mia—could get hurt.

“I’m glad you made it here safe,” Ben was saying. “The roads are tough-going.”

“Yes, they often are this time of year.” She heard the stilted sounding words come out of her mouth and she couldn’t seem to think of anything more friendly to say.

But she was strikingly aware of Jonah and her emotions seemed to warm for him as he snapped the binder shut and turned away with it, walking with that uneven gait that made her care. Why him? And why for him, when she couldn’t let herself warm up her frosty feelings toward her half brother? She didn’t like this at all. She was accustomed to being very in control of her emotions.

“Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you two.” Ben hung his coat up on a rack by the door. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

It was Mia who jumped in with an answer. “Like we’d come all this way to not wait? So, when do I get to meet my cousin, Olivia? And baby Joseph? Now?”

Ben chuckled, his gaze softening with kindness; it was hard not to like someone who was good with her daughter. “Soon, I promise. They’re home with Leah. You know, Olivia can’t wait to meet you, too. Debra, Leah is especially excited to meet you both. We were hoping you’d come to the tree-lighting ceremony with us tonight.”

Mia jumped in. “What tree lighting? Is it a special ceremony?”

“Yep. It’s a town tradition over at the mayor’s mansion.” Ben’s chuckle of amusement at Mia’s enthusiasm was nothing but gentle.

Debra could already feel the ties pulling at her like invisible strings of obligation. She’d learned that people were unknown quantities. The last thing she wanted was for Mia to get hurt. To get her hopes up, as she always did, only to be crushed if this didn’t work out. The Cavanaugh family might not want real ties; maybe this invitation to town was about getting their curiosity satisfied. Who knew what the future held? Mia’s heart could be broken.

To make matters worse, she couldn’t seem to concentrate on the conversation. Jonah was reshelving the binder, moving with that disciplined control of his. A lightbulb went on. He had the posture and manner of an elite soldier, that’s what he reminded her of, she realized. Although she couldn’t reconcile that with this man who made such beautiful, intricate furniture.

She realized Mia was staring at her again, as if expecting an answer. “Oh, the tree lighting. What time is that happening?”

“At eight o’clock sharp.” Ben strode toward her. “It’s a big event here. There’ll be music and the church choir will be singing carols. Mia, I’ve heard rumors there might even be a visit from old Saint Nick. There will be bags of candy for the kids, prizes and a church raffle. It’s a good, family-friendly event. We’ve all been looking forward to it. Leah made reservations for all of us at the Hamilton Hotel’s restaurant beforehand.”

“It sounds lovely.” What else could she say? She knew it was right when Ben grinned. He had a smile that was a little ghost of her mother’s—their mother’s, would she ever get used to that? And it made Debra sad in more ways than she could count.

Her throat felt tight as she said, “I look forward to meeting your wife. Leah sent us the nicest letter just last week. I hope she received my response.”

“It came in yesterday’s mail.”

The contents of Leah’s letter had been nothing earthshaking. It was simply a very nice and inviting letter telling more about the extended Cavanaugh family, the town, its history and the best places for them to stay. “We have a room at the Peachtree Bed and Breakfast on her recommendation. It’s a cozy inn, just as she promised.”

“I’m glad it helped out.” His cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket to check the screen. “Oh, speaking of the wife. It’s her. Excuse me, won’t you?”

“Certainly.” Debra stepped away to give him privacy and Mia danced up to her, lit with excitement.

“I’ve never been to a real tree lighting before. Uncle Ben knows I don’t believe in Santa Claus, right? I mean, that’s for little kids.”

“It’s just for fun, you know that.” Debra had grown up in a family where Santa Claus was a secular icon and therefore not part of her childhood, but she didn’t feel as strongly on the subject as her mother had. Millie had been a very strict Christian and disciplinarian. Debra smoothed back a lock of Mia’s baby-fine hair out of her eyes, glad that so far things were going well.