Christmas in the Rink (9 page)

“Maybe I should take her back home?” Carole asked, a worried expression marring her forehead.

Annabelle had been rather cranky since waking from her short nap. Maybe coming tonight hadn't been such a good idea, but she didn't want to miss the Christmas Eve service, especially since Conner had invited them. That wasn't the only reason, though. There was just something so enchanting, so special about celebrating the birth of Christ like this, gathered together with other believers, worshipping alongside their friends and neighbors, singing hymns and carols as shadows from the flickering flames danced across hundreds of faces.

Conner leaned down and motioned for Annabelle to come close. He slid an arm around the girl's tiny shoulders. “Do you think you can hold mine for a while? My hand's kinda tired from working yesterday.” His loud whisper wasn't intended just for Annabelle.

Annabelle nodded, and relief flitted across Carole's expression and flowed right into Chaney's heart.

Conner looked up at her, flashing a conspiratorial wink as he handed Annabelle the unlit candle. Then, he scooped Annabelle up in one arm, and miracle of miracles, her niece wrapped her arms around Conner's neck, one hand gripping the candle tight, and snuggled against him without another word.

“Thank you,” she mouthed silently.

He grinned.

They made their way into the sanctuary, the dim light and soft music creating a hushed atmosphere.

“Is this one OK?” Conner paused outside an aisle.

“Perfect.” Carole slid in first, then Chaney.

Conner settled in beside her, and the heater gusted his scent her way. She took a long whiff, stealing a glance at him.

Annabelle's eyes were closed already, the candle dangling from limp fingers. Chaney carefully removed the waxy stick from her niece's lax grip and leaned close to whisper. “She's out already. How did you do that so fast?”

“Must be my cologne. She likes it as much as you do.”

Her jaw dropped. The stinker! How did he manage a straight face?

He didn't. Crinkles fanned out from his eyes, and his lips finally curved into a wicked grin just as the praise team walked on stage.

The praise team invited them to stand, and Conner shifted Annabelle effortlessly to his other side. His free arm wound around Chaney's back, tugging her close to his side. His smooth baritone rumbled next to her head while the sweet smell of burning candles filled the auditorium.

Carole lit hers, and in the flicker from the tiny flame, Chaney caught the smile on her mother's face.

She twisted to light Conner's candle.

His arm dropped away so she could light it.

She glanced up, gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

There, in his soft smile and the brightness of his eyes, she saw it all. Love. Joy. Faith. Forever even whispered from his gaze.

The meaning of Christmas, the joy of the season, the spirit of love and worship had never held more meaning than right now, this moment.

 

****

 

“Come on in.” Conner nudged the front door open with his shoe and waited for Chaney to enter first. He followed, a sleeping Annabelle in his arms.

Carole had offered to take Annabelle home with her, but Conner had insisted on bringing her home with them. The evening wouldn't be quite as special without the little one. But that wasn't the only reason.

Carole gave him a long look when he'd asked them over, her gaze flickering to Chaney, and then Annabelle. Understanding and warmth filled her features. She gave a bright smile. “I need to get home, Santa has asked for my help to wrap presents for someone special,” her gaze went to Annabelle, “so you all go on. Enjoy the evening.”

Chaney slid out of her coat and hung it on the rack, then scampered into the family room and pulled the throw off the back of the sofa. “You can put her here. She's out for the night.”

“You sure? She might be more comfortable on my bed.”

Chaney's dark brows arched, and her gorgeous eyes widened. “This is fine.” Her voice came out hoarse, and a lump slid down her smooth neck.

At her response, he tamped down the pleasure that welled up from his gut. So he affected her the same way she did him. That was definitely a positive sign.

He disengaged Annabelle's arms from around his neck and carefully set her tiny frame on the sofa.

Chaney snuggled the light blanket around her niece's shoulders and leaned over to press a kiss on Annabelle's forehead. Her adoring gaze and the love that shone from her eyes forever imprinted upon his heart.

Oh, God, I want this woman. More than I ever wanted the Olympic dream, I want a lifetime with her. Is it possible?
Sighing, he turned towards the kitchen. “Want some eggnog?” he asked, twisting to glance over a shoulder.

“Oh, yum. Yes.” She'd moved over to kneel in front of the nativity set, cradling the baby Jesus in her palm.

If she turned sideways, would she see the present with her name under the tree? He smiled. Well, it didn't matter. She'd see it soon enough.

He poured the creamy concoction and sprinkled some nutmeg on top, then rejoined her in the family room.

She'd settled on the rug in front of the couch, her fingertips caressing the hair back from Annabelle's face, but her face pointed towards the scrawny tree.

He handed her a cup, then situated himself next to her on the rug, and reached for his guitar. He stood it next to him on the other side, away from Chaney.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He sipped, the spicy cream tickling his throat all the way down. He picked up the guitar and plucked a few strings of the song that had been dancing in his head all week.

When he finished, he glanced over at Chaney. Her lids were closed, but they popped up when he set the guitar down, her dewy gaze sliding to him.

“That was beautiful.” Her voice came out husky.

“You're beautiful.” His fingers brushed her cheek and trailed along her jaw.

Her lashes dipped, and then lifted, revealing eyes as wide and lush as a lawn coming to life under a warm sun.

He could wake every day for the rest of his life and never grow tired of gazing into those eyes.

Her hand covered his and she nestled her cheek against his palm. “Are you happy living here, Conner?”

He sucked in a breath. Happy? He'd never known true happiness or been more content with his life until now. “Yeah. You could say that.”

She angled her head a bit, studying his expression, forcing his hand to drop away. “So you think you might consider staying?” Her teeth nibbled on her lip.

He tore his gaze away from hers to stare at the fake Christmas tree, its silver limbs sagging with the weight of the pinecones and lights, the handful of gifts scattered around its base. All gifts for her and Annabelle and Carole. Each one wrapped with thoughts of forever in his head. He turned back to her. “I think a real tree would look good in that corner. What do you say? Would you help me pick it out next year?”

Excitement burst to life on her face. “Really?” she squeaked, clapping her hands together, as if he'd just made her wildest dream come true.

“Really.” He beamed, her reaction the only reassurance he needed for tonight. “I can't imagine my life anywhere else.”

Annabelle moaned. Her lids flickered up, and she stared at them for a second. A tiny hand slid across her face, but then her lids drooped again. Drool trickled from her open mouth. When Annabelle snuffled, soft and quiet, Conner plucked the gift marked for Chaney from under the tree.

He hid the box on the floor beside him and held out his arms. “Come here.”

She scooted onto his lap as if she belonged there. She did.

His arms wrapped around her back, pulling her snug against his chest. He rested a cheek on the top of her head, breathing in vanilla and spicy floral. Strands of her silky hair tickled his chin. Could she feel the frantic whisper of his heart?
Be mine, Chaney. Will you be mine?

He uttered a silent prayer for courage, and in return, peace filled and blossomed to overflowing in his heart. He scooped up the package. “This is for you.”

Her jaw dropped, her mouth rounding with surprise. “Christmas isn't until tomorrow, Conner.” Even as she said the words, her slender fingers curled around the package.

“This isn't really a Christmas gift.”

“No?” Her head tilted to the side, a smile teasing her lips. She shook the box, only a playful jiggle close to her ear. “It's wrapped up all pretty and—”

“Just open it already,” he growled, impatience spurting through his veins.

She chuckled. “OK. OK.” She tugged at the ribbon, which came right off, just like he'd intended, revealing the velvet box. Her mouth lost its playful curve, and her forest green eyes found his.

One of his arms still wrapped around her back, keeping her securely against his chest while the other hand took the box from her. He held his breath. This was the moment when his dreams lived or died. He flicked the lid open, but his gaze stayed focused on her.

She gasped, her hand fluttering to cover her mouth, her head lifting towards his, those gorgeous green eyes glittering with love and wonder. Faith and forever.

He had his answer before he asked the question. “Chaney Mitchum, I have loved you since the very first day Coach assigned us as partners. You skated into my arms, all sassy and confident, and my heart's always been yours. Even though years and distance have separated us, you were always here.” He thumped his chest. “I don't have much to offer—” His teeth clenched, fear and doubt and shame slithering in to mess with his mind. What if he'd read this all wrong, gotten his divine signals messed up? He was only an auto mechanic, part time at that—

Her palm reached up to brush his jaw, her smooth fingers trailing the hard angle, caressing the clench of sudden fear holding his mouth hostage. “You, Conner. That's all I want. You're everything I ever wanted. Only you.”

He drew in a deep, cleansing breath, relaxing his jaw. She loved him for who he was, today, this moment. “I promise to love and cherish you, Chaney, and to love and care for Annabelle as if she were our very own daughter. Will you let me love you into eternity, sweetheart? Will you marry me?”

“Oh yes! Yes!” Her arms wound around his neck, tugging him down, her face tilted up, her lips inviting.

Breathing in her essence, his lips grazed hers. Their kiss was gentle and sweet, full of wonder, as they explored and tasted—

“Is it Christmas yet?” Annabelle's sleepy voice broke the silence.

He chuckled, disconnecting their lips, and tugged Chaney back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. He glanced back at the little minx, who was sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Yeah, baby. It's Christmas.” The clock may not agree with him, but the joy that bubbled up from his heart told him that every day from this point on would feel like Christmas.

He plucked the ring from the box and twisted. “Your Aunt Chaney just agreed to be my wife.”

“You're getting married?” Annabelle hopped off the couch and did a little dance.

Chaney held out her hand, tears spilling over to slide down her cheeks.

“Yes.” He slid the ring on her slender finger, planted a soft kiss on her forehead, and then caressed the moisture away with a thumb, gazing at the most precious face to him, ever. “We're getting married,” he said, his tone soft, reverent, still not believing this moment was real.

Chaney smiled through her tears. “We're getting married.” Her voice came out just as hushed.

“Yay! My daddy!” A small body slammed into him, and he laughed, bringing Annabelle into their embrace, tugging her up under his arm.

His heart full to bursting, his gaze wandered to the antique nativity scene, and then slid to the silver Christmas tree.

For so many years, he'd hated Christmas because of his mom's death. But it wasn't about losing his mom or even forgiving his father. No.

Christmas was about celebrating a perfect love. God's love, something so strong and powerful, a love that reached so deep and wide, that stretched from heaven to earth and back again. A love that covered his past and accepted him exactly as he was, without condemnation or judgment, a love that led him back home to Evergreen Peak and to Chaney. Christmas was about rekindling his faith and reclaiming his joy. Christmas was about love and laughter, faith and family.

His gaze slid down to Chaney, a sweet smile curving her lips, as Annabelle pressed against her neck, the little head tucked up under Chaney's chin.

A sigh of contentment heaved from his chest, and he tightened his arms around his family.

It didn't matter how many presents were scattered under that scrawny silver tree. He'd been given the greatest gift of all.

Love.

 

 

 

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