The Twins' Family Christmas Read online

  Lily shook her head. “You’re all rosy and active and happy. These will be great pictures. We’ll do dress-up clothes by the fireplace tomorrow.”

  “If you’re sure.” He looked at her just a little longer than was necessary.

  She broke her gaze away and studied her camera, making small adjustments, taking deep breaths. It must be the season that was giving her these odd feelings about Carson. She wasn’t one to get all fluttery around a man.

  Carson tied a scarf around the snowman’s neck and then lifted the girls, one in each arm, to place his hat. Lily snapped photo after photo as they laughed and adjusted it. She could tell already that these would be a delight, much more appealing than anything posed.

  “Come here, Miss Lily, let Daddy take your picture with us!”

  Lily glanced at Carson to see him looking at her with his head cocked to one side. Was he thinking that it was inappropriate for her, a stranger, to be in a photo with his girls? Or that he’d like to see it?

  He held out his phone. “I’ll just use this,” he said. “Your camera looks too high-tech for me.”

  So she knelt beside the snowman, one girl on either side of her, and let him take pictures. As the girls laughed and mugged for the camera, she couldn’t help joining in. They were irresistible, these two sweethearts.

  “Did you ever make snow angels?” she asked them.

  They both frowned and shook their heads. “Show us how!”

  So she lay down and moved her arms and legs, showing them how to make angels in the snow. Then she helped each of them do the same.

  “I’m going to call my angel Miss Lily!” Sunny said.,

  Skye looked thoughtful. “I’m going to call mine Mommy,” she said, “because our mommy would think they were pretty. Only, she can’t see them, because she’s in heaven.”

  The words made Lily’s breath catch, and she glanced at Carson. His mouth had twisted to one side as he studied her and the girls.

  Grief and shame pushed at her, but she didn’t get to wallow in her feelings, not when there were little girls to watch out for. She knelt and gave Skye a quick hug, then reached to have Sunny join in. “Your mommy just might be smiling from heaven to see your snow angels,” she said, “and that’s nice you’re naming yours after her. But it’s sweet you named one after me, too.”

  Both girls clung on a little longer than she expected and she felt her chest tighten. Such dear children. They shouldn’t have lost their mother. Oh, Pam, why did you do what you did? How could you leave your girls motherless?

  “Why don’t you make two more snowmen? Little ones, twin kids,” Carson suggested.

  “Yeah!”

  “Will you help?”

  “I wonder if you can figure out how to do it yourself, now that you’ve had some practice?” Carson asked.

  Hmm. Good parenting, or a desire to talk to Lily apart from the girls, especially now that Pam had figured so prominently in the conversation?

  She supposed it was inevitable, so she brushed snow off her jacket and went to stand beside him. For a moment, they watched the girls argue about how to get started, and then Lily heard a sharp tapping, like a rapid drum. “What’s that?” she asked.

  He looked around and then pointed. “There,” he said.

  “Where?”

  He came closer so she could look along his arm to his pointing finger, and she caught a whiff of his spicy aftershave. “See the bird?” he asked.

  She saw it then, a small black, gray and white creature with a bright red spot on its head.

  It seemed to notice them, for it stopped drilling, cocked its head and offered a quiet pik-pik-pik-pik.

  “Downy woodpecker,” he volunteered.

  She studied him. “How come a pastor knows so much about the outdoors?” she asked.

  He laughed, a little self-consciously. “I was an only child. Spent a lot of time outdoors with my grandpa, and he taught me the names of the trees and the birds.” He laughed. “Pretty geeky, huh?”

  “I think it’s cool,” she said. “When I was a kid, Aunt Penny sent me this deck of card-like things, birds of the Plains. I went all over my street and the fields nearby, trying to identify stuff.”

  He smiled, started to say something, shook his head.

  “What?”

  “We have some things in common. Things Pam and I didn’t.”

  She didn’t answer, afraid to walk onto that dangerous ground.

  “You know,” he said as the girls worked together on twin snowmen, “Pam made some mistakes. I know that.”

  She held her breath. What did he mean?

  “You wouldn’t be hurting her memory if you told me she had a boyfriend, and that somehow contributed to her getting shot.”

  She stared at him.

  “I wasn’t what she wanted. She told me. I wasn’t exciting enough for her.”

  Lily blew out a breath. On the one hand, she knew what Carson was talking about. Pam had been a seeker, never satisfied with what she had, always wanting more.

  But Carson was such an amazing man. How would any woman married to him want someone else?

  Yes, Pam had been a flirt, and it had made Lily uncomfortable because Pam was married. But she’d never taken it far, and she’d laughed when Lily had questioned her actions. “I’m married, not dead!” she would say.

  It had bothered Lily even more toward the end of Pam’s time. When Pam had been drifting further and further away from Lily, when their lives had gone such different directions.

  Once Lily had started studying the Bible, she’d realized that sins of thought and feeling counted, just like sins of action.

  Raising those ideas with Pam, though, had been the beginning of the end of their friendship.

  Carson was looking at her with calm expectation. How could a husband be that calm about the notion that his wife might have cheated on him?

  “I mean, look at today,” he said. “My girls wanted a puppy, and did I get them one? No. Because I’m boring and no fun, just like Pam said.”

  “Not true,” she said firmly. “You know what you can handle and what’s right for your family.” She hesitated, wondering how much to say. But at least she could reassure him on one score. “She didn’t have a boyfriend, Carson. If she had, she would’ve told me.”

  “I just keep trying to understand it,” he said. “She wasn’t supposed to be in the line of fire. And you knew... Did you know? She was expecting a baby.”

  “What?” She stared at him, his words echoing crazily in her ears.

  Pam had been expecting a baby?

  Expecting a baby.

  A new wave of guilt washed over her, stealing her breath. By not saving Pam, Lily had deprived this family of a precious new member.

  She knew, as a Christian, she was forgiven. But for this, Lord? How can I be forgiven for this?

  “You didn’t know?”

  She shook her head. That made everything so much worse. “Look,” she said desperately, “I’m so sorry. Sorry for your loss.” She blew out a breath. She was going to lose it here. “It’s been great to hang out with you guys, but I’m getting cold, and you need to spend time as a family. Take care, Carson.” She gave him a little wave and headed off toward her cabin.

  * * *

  After his conversation with Lily—and her abrupt departure—Carson felt like the girls needed some quiet time. And Carson needed some advice on how to get the truth out of Lily. You and Rockette up for a visit? he texted Long John.

  Come on over, was the reply.

  Moments later, the girls were settled in front of a Christmas movie with the ever-patient Rockette while Long John and Carson, bundled up, examined the splintered porch.

  They talked beams and nails and braces for a few minutes, and then Carson dived in. “What would you do if you wanted to k
now something and you knew somebody knew about it, and they wouldn’t tell you?”

  “Sounds like a puzzle.” Long John’s forehead wrinkled as he studied Carson. “Is this about Lily?”

  How had the older man guessed so quickly? He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “I’d ask myself why. What could that person stand to lose?”

  Carson shook his head. “I can’t imagine. I’ve told her I understand that Pam was...or rather, that she wasn’t...” He bit off the sentence.

  Compassion spread over Long John’s face. “I’d also ask myself,” he said, “if I really wanted to know whatever truth that person was hiding.”

  Did he? “Yes,” Carson said, “I think I do. I need to know so I can move on.”

  Long John picked up a handful of nails and began to sort them by size. “You sure you’re not the one running away?” he asked. “If you’ve made this a barrier to getting involved with anyone else, well...” He didn’t look at Carson but laid the nails down in a line, neat despite the Parkinson’s tremor in his hands.

  “I just...” Carson started pulling the rotting board from the porch, using the claw of the hammer. “If you’ve been married and it didn’t go well, you ought to take a look at what happened. Especially when there are two little ones involved in any mistakes you might make.”

  “True enough,” Long John said.

  They were silent for a couple of minutes, Long John handing him nails as he moved down the new board, hammering. Then the older man said, “Sometimes, you have to turn to the Lord. Ever think about that?”

  The words hit Carson like a hammer bigger than the one he held in his hand. “You shouldn’t have to tell me that. Some preacher I am.” He ought to be counseling Long John, not the other way around.

  “Sometimes the doctor needs a doctor,” Long John said. “You’re young. Maybe too young to realize that moving on from what’s hurt you in the past isn’t always a matter of finding out every detail.”

  “But I want to know.” Carson pounded in a nail with punishing force. And then another one. And then he glanced up to see Long John watching him steadily.

  I’m angry, he realized. But at whom?

  The sound of a car engine and tires crunching on snow were a welcome distraction. A big SUV pulled to a halt and one of his parishioners, Minnie Patton, climbed out.

  Carson’s heart sank a little, but he overcame it quickly. “Hello, Minnie,” he called.

  “The last thing I need is a visit from General Patton,” Long John muttered beside him.

  Carson swallowed a smile. He knew a number of church members called Minnie “The General,” and it wasn’t only because of her surname.

  “I heard you were up here alone,” Minnie said to Long John as she opened the back door of the SUV.

  “He’s not alone, Minnie,” said a voice from the passenger seat. Beatrice, Minnie’s younger sister, was a sweet woman who rarely got a word in edgewise.

  Minnie pulled a large casserole dish from the back seat. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold,” she scolded as she approached Long John.

  “And Merry Christmas to you, Minnie,” Long John said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I’m going to say hello to your sister.” His glance at Carson was eloquent: save me.

  Carson watched as Long John greeted Beatrice, who lowered the window with a smile. Even from here, Carson could see the scarf that covered Beatrice’s bald head, her pale, thin face. Chemo had been hard on her, and not the least of it was that she’d had to move in with Minnie.

  As she looked up at Long John, though, Beatrice’s eyes sparkled, and her thin face curved into a smile.

  Carson shoved down a sigh as General Patton—Minnie—approached. “Merry Christmas,” he said, shaking her hand.

  “It would be merrier if you were down in town instead of up here vacationing like a man of leisure,” she said. “What if someone in your congregation falls ill?”

  The ones who need love the most are the hardest to love. “If someone from the church has a problem, I’ll come down to town, of course. Let me help you with that casserole.”

  “I’ll take it inside,” she said, turning to block him from taking it from her. She was obviously planning to go in the house. Which presented its own set of problems, because the girls very distinctly didn’t like Miss Minnie. Carson couldn’t blame them; no one liked being called “poor little motherless things.”

  “Long John,” Carson called, still standing in Miss Minnie’s path, “what would you like us to do with this casserole?”

  “Well, obviously,” Minnie said, “I’m going to take it inside and heat it up and dish it out.” She looked back at Long John, and for the first time, hesitancy came into her voice and manner. “If you’d like, John,” she said, “I could stay and eat with you.”

  Long John glanced down at Beatrice, reached for her hand and squeezed it. Then he came over to where Minnie and Carson were engaged in a standoff, him blocking the way to the house and her trying to get past him, and both of them trying to smile.

  “Minnie,” Beatrice called, her voice gentle, “it’s getting colder. I think we should head on home.”

  “But—”

  Long John took the casserole dish. “Thank you kindly,” he said. “I’ll enjoy this tonight and for the rest of the week. For now, though, I’m going to take a nap.”

  Minnie turned to Carson as if to get his support.

  “I’m sure you understand Long John’s need to rest,” he said gently. “It was kind of you to bring him food. The true spirit of Christmas.”

  She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Then she turned her palms up, spun and marched back to the SUV.

  Carson and Long John waved to Beatrice and then watched the two women drive away.

  “Close call,” Long John said. Then he winked at Carson. “Sometimes it’s the quiet ones who have something to offer. You remember that.”

  Carson lifted an eyebrow. “Something going on with you and Beatrice?”

  “I wish,” Long John said. “Maybe I was referring to our new friend Lily. Penny tells me your first wife was the dramatic sort. That Lily, though, she has a lot going on underneath.”

  Carson didn’t answer. What could he say?

  “You’re not the only one who has things to deal with in the past,” Long John persisted. “At least according to what Penny told me, Lily has had it rough.”

  That made Carson wince. He’d been so preoccupied with Lily’s secrets about Pam that he’d neglected to offer her the pastoral counseling Penny had requested he do.

  As he headed inside to collect the girls, he resolved that he’d make progress toward that before the day was out.

  Chapter Six

  As the sun set on Christmas Day, Lily walked toward her cabin, tired but feeling better.

  Photographing the dogs for her school project had been fun. She’d posed one of the dogs near an old tractor in the barn, and another on a plaid blanket she’d found. Two big dogs, a black Lab and an Irish setter mix, had gotten in a play fight when she’d let them out into the fenced area. She’d taken photo after photo, knowing they’d look amazing against the snow with the mountains in the background.

  Keeping busy with the dogs had helped to distract her from the news that Pam was pregnant when she’d died. That was what her therapist said to do when the past threatened to overwhelm her. Distract, and think about something else, something positive.

  She’d memorized a Bible verse from Philippians about that, during her darkest days, and now she recited it in a whisper. “Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

  Right
now, the lovely things in her mind consisted of the hot bath she planned to take. The novel she’d read until she dozed off.

  A lot of people were facing cranky kids and a big mess right about this time on Christmas. Lily, on the other hand, had pleasant time to herself. She’d revel in it and push away the sad information about Pam and the tug she’d felt toward family life, courtesy of Carson and the twins.

  As she passed Long John’s cabin, the front door burst open and Carson emerged. He was carrying a sleepy-looking Skye and had Sunny by the hand.

  “You sure you want to take them along?” Long John was asking from the doorway.

  “I think it’s best.” Carson’s voice was tense, and when she looked more closely at his face, she saw deep vertical creases between his brows.

  He glanced over at Lily, gave a quick, distracted wave, and then his phone buzzed. He held it to his ear and talked in short bursts, his forehead wrinkling tighter.

  Something was wrong. As Carson hurried the girls toward their cabin, Lily stayed behind, looking up at Long John. “What happened?”

  Long John leaned on his porch railing. “Someone from the church tried to take her own life today. She’s in the hospital, and the rest of her family is having trouble coping.”

  “Oh, how awful!” Lily’s chest ached for them. “On Christmas. Wow.”

  Long John nodded. “The family called Carson, and of course, he’s going down to pray with them.”

  “I wonder if there’s any way I could help. Maybe I can watch the girls for him.”

  Long John shook his head. “I offered, but he says he’s going to take them down. They’ll visit with their friend—this woman, she has a little boy, Gavin, who’s six—while Carson talks to the husband and grandparents.”

  Lily sucked in a breath. Exposing the twins to a situation that was hard for adults to understand just didn’t seem right. She waved to Long John and then hurried after Carson, reaching him as he was ushering the girls into the car. “Hey, hold up a minute.”

  “Emergency with one of our church families.” He closed the truck’s back door as the girls strapped themselves in. “I have to get to town.”