Their First Noel (14 page)

“I think that's an apology you own my mom more than me.” She tried not to sound harsh but her emotions were so close to the surface. “Me, I'd just want to know why. Why didn't you come that Christmas?”

The Walkers no longer kept up the pretense of giving her privacy. Ellie folded her arms and cocked her head to show she clearly wanted to know the answer to that herself.

Corrie didn't mind, either. After all, they were family now. “Why weren't you there for my mom when I was born and for me, growing up?”

“Your grandmother didn't tell you?” He could not have faked the hurt and disbelief in the words he blurted out. Silence followed, then a deep breath. “Corrie, I don't want to turn you against your grandmother, but you should know the truth. After your mom went back
to South Carolina, she contacted me and told me not to come.”

Corrie felt as if she had the wind knocked out of her. “What? Why?”

“She thought I had obviously misled your mother. That none of this could have happened if I wasn't a liar and a scoundrel. She laid all the blame on me and told me that your mother and you would be better off without me.” Again, his voice grew emotional and tight. “She said she'd have me arrested if I showed up at her door.”

“I'm sure my mom never knew that,” Corrie said softly, as much for herself as for him. Then she turned to the Walkers to say, “He tried to come. My grandmother said she'd have him arrested.”

“Oh!” Ellie raised her eyebrows. “I knew it had to be something. He's a good man, Corrie.”

Corrie was glad to hear that and even more glad that she truly felt it was true.

Buck cleared his throat and went on, “I was terrified, Corrie. I told myself I'd wait until things cooled down, then come. A few weeks after I thought you would have been born, I called and your grandmother told me your mother wanted no part of me and that she had made sure your mother hadn't listed me on the birth certificate so I had no legal claim on you.”

“I know that's true. If your name had been there, I'd certainly have found you sooner.”

“I didn't give up that easily. I tried again, but your grandmother told me that your mom had met someone else and that you didn't think of me as your father and to show up would disrupt your life irreparably.”

“I believe you,” she murmured, recalling her mother's story about how she had bowed to her mother's pressure. “I know Mom dated a nice man for a while but they didn't get married.”

“Really?” He hesitated, and she wondered if he wanted to ask more about her mom, the woman he had loved so long ago. Instead, he said, “I did try to keep track of you, thinking one day…but then your family moved and I had no idea where. It wasn't like I could go on the internet then and track you down.”

“Trust me, I've found out it isn't as easy to find a person online as they make it seem on TV.” Corrie gave the mayor a smile and got one in return.

“I did try but after a while, I met someone else myself and married. We moved away because of her poor health and…and I want you to know, Corrie, I stayed away from your mom and you out of love, not out of neglect or selfishness.”

“Thank you.” She felt her lips move but wasn't sure she had actually gotten the words out until the mayor's husband put his hand on her shoulder to lend support.

“All I knew to do was to pray, Corrie,” Buck concluded. “Pray for you and your mom, that you'd be happy and that if you wanted me in your life you'd come looking for me. Now…”

“Now I've found you,” she whispered with tears streaming down her face and joy in her heart.

A few more tears, a little laughter, and a moment of gratitude to God later, Corrie handed the phone back to Ellie and hugged her again. “You were right. He'll be in town tomorrow. Thank you.”

As they went into the sanctuary, Ellie practically
beamed and Corrie worried she wouldn't be able to keep their secret until Buck got to town, as they had agreed.

“Let's sit up front.” Ellie lead the way to the first-row pew.

Corrie stumbled along, her boots bumping along the red carpet. The last thing she wanted was to sit front and center for the whole town to see, knowing she'd be the topic of conversation soon. Of course by whole town, she really meant one headstrong, heart-stoppingly handsome man who thought he didn't need anyone's help. She dreaded the idea of running into Andy now, feeling so vulnerable, so happy and yet so unsure. “Actually, I think I'd rather sit where I won't be noticed and can slip out if—”

She glanced back just as Andy took a seat on the last row, right by the door.

“On second thought, front row is good.” She gave a meager smile and a half shrug. “If I can just slip in before anyone sees me and—”

“Corrie!” Greer appeared in the aisle at the back of the sanctuary.

Hannah McFarland waved.

Two of the men she had worked with from the park light committee raised their hands in greeting as well.

“Thanks for coming.” The pageant director smiled and gave a thumbs-up. “Greer's wings look great.”

“Come and see, Corrie!” Greer jumped up and did a twist at the same time trying to both talk to Corrie and at the same time show off the wings that Corrie had designed, but been unable to finish.

Corrie started to say something about having to get her seat with the mayor before the pew filled up.

“Go,” Ellie urged. “We'll save you a seat.”

Greer and Hannah both motioned to a sliver of space next to Andy, clearly offering for Corrie to join him on Andy's behalf.

She couldn't join him, of course. She suspected he knew that. She had come so far and finally figured out what she had been looking for for so long. She wanted a home. She wanted a place where she was accepted for herself. She wanted to be of help to others.

She wouldn't find those with Andy and sitting next to him in his church would only make her feel that more keenly. Still, she owed it to Greer to go and tell her how good she looked and to Andy to tell him she'd see him Friday.

“If y'all will excuse me for a second, I'll be right back,” she told the mayor.

“Did you hear that, Larry? Y'all. I think I've heard Buck say y'all since he moved to Virginia. Isn't it nice to know that when they meet there won't be a language barrier?” She laughed.

Corrie put her finger to her lips to remind the mayor they weren't talking about the news yet then she went and spent a few seconds admiring Greer's wings and accepting Hannah's appreciation for having done most of the work on the costume. When the pair of them hurried off to get Greer in position for her role in the production, Corrie turned to Andy.

“I think I owe you an apology.” He leaned against the pew in front of him with both hands and hung his
head then met her gaze. “I was pretty tough on you this morning.”

“Not surprising, considering how tough you are on yourself. “She wished she could reach out and give his arm a squeeze but she restrained the impulse. “I messed up, Andy. I acted rashly.”

“You were trying to protect my sister. I was out of line.”

Corrie decided not to argue that point. “How bad is the damage to the inn?”

He shook his head. “Gonna set me back a couple more days on top of the couple I've already lost and at least a grand to pay for extra workers. And because even if the floors could get here through the snow, we won't have time to install them, more money to do some temporary flooring.”

She felt just awful about that. “If I had it, I'd write you a check right now.”

He cocked his head, studying her. “I know you would but I couldn't accept it.”

She cast her eyes down to the toes of her boots. “I know you wouldn't.”

They stood there as people shuffled around them, friends chatting with each other, shaking hands, families laughing and settling into the pews.

Not having anything more to add, or rather knowing there was nothing more he would accept from her, she looked back toward the mayor. “Well…”

He gave a jerk of his head to acknowledge Larry and Ellie. “Did you get a chance to call your father yet?”

“Just now.” She couldn't help breaking into a broad grin.

“Really?”

“He's coming here tomorrow but we're not going to tell anyone until we've had a chance to talk. He's going to bring photos to show me about that time and his life.” Suddenly feeling warm, she worked the buttons of her coat free and flapped the lapels to get some air. Only it wasn't the church that had her flushed, it was Andy's steady, unreadable gaze. “I only wish…”

“That you still had the snow globe?” He finished for her.

“I was going to say that I had photos of my life to share. The snow globe, that was between him and Mom. I'm not sure it would be
my
place to have brought it to him.” A family of six came bustling by, nudging Corrie forward, almost into Andy's side. She pulled back, trying to sound perfectly unruffled by his closeness as she concluded, “By the way, we had a good talk, my mom and me. She told me a little about that time, about the role my grandmother played in keeping her from following her heart and how that made her push me to be so independent. I think she feels some guilt about it.”

“I hope your mom is able to work through that. Unfinished business can have some far-reaching effects,” he said, his jaw tense.

“I kind of got the feeling, talking to both of them that there
is
unfinished business between them and that they both have regrets.” Corrie knew the man spoke from experience. “I'm not sure what
I
can do about that. “

“Maybe I could…” He started to reach out to her but another stream of people pressed by and the minister took the pulpit to ask everyone to take a seat so the pageant could begin.

“I promised I'd sit with the mayor and her husband.” Corrie pointed in their direction.

“Don't let me keep you.”

Keep me, she wanted to say. Her heart sank when he gave her a smile and a nod then stepped away and sat back down.

She gave him a small wave then took her seat. The pageant went off pretty much as it had in rehearsal. The kids were adorable. The music joyful. The company was warm. Except for the heavy pain in her chest every time she thought about Andy, it was one of the sweetest Christmas moments she'd ever had.

When the last strains of music faded, the children filed out with their small flashlights held like lit candles. Corrie's gaze followed Greer all the way to the doorway. When the lights in the sanctuary came up, Corrie naturally sought Andy's seat. It was empty. He must have rushed off, probably wanting to get back to work.

He had sat through the pageant alone and left alone. Just the way he planned to restore the inn, or lose everything if the inn couldn't be done in time.

It didn't have to be that way. She looked around at all the wonderful people who had embraced her and who were so clearly proud of their community and part of a spiritual fellowship that loved and supported each other. This is what it felt like to have a home, Corrie knew now.

She had her answers. She wanted a way to help Andy find his.

H
e was right.

Andy
knew
he was right.

You had to prepare in life. You couldn't just make stuff up as you went along. You had to look at the big picture, cover all the angles and be ready for everything, even what you didn't see coming. You couldn't take your eyes off the goal.

That's what he'd done. Taken his eyes off the goal, gotten tangled up trying to go too many directions at once. That's how he got in this fix. He'd gotten distracted and now his life's work was a shambles. For all this striving to do otherwise, he hadn't done any better than his father taking care of his family.

He opened the passenger door of his truck and looked down at the gingerbread replica of the Snowy Eaves Inn. The perfect vision of all Corrie wanted it to be, and
he
had hoped it could be.

And never would be.

He shook his head. Even if the painters hadn't bugged out on him, if the flooring company had been
able to meet the deadline, he and Corrie wouldn't have come to any different conclusion. She had to go back to South Carolina. Staying here did not fit in either of their plans.

Andy was right.

Nothing could change that.

Andy wasn't in the business of change, after all. He fixed things. If he could, he restored them but that didn't change the past. Still, it often went a long way toward healing it.

He paused and looked around the parking lot. Corrie's small car was already here, parked right beside a slightly bigger car with Virginia tags. He raised his head and searched his surroundings. He was looking for something in particular,
someone
in particular, but couldn't help noticing that for all the cars in the lot today, there weren't any people to be seen.

He didn't get a chance to give it much thought though, as the car he'd been looking for came rolling into the lot. He gave a wave. The car pulled up next to him. After a few quick introductions, thank yous, reassurances and some hastily laid plans, he got a good grip on the snowy landscaped base of the gingerbread inn and slid it from his truck.

A woman with a nametag designating her as a volunteer flung open the outer door of the community center when he got to it. She directed him to a swinging door with a big banner over it proclaiming: Hadleyville Holiday Gingerbread House Showcase.

1 p.m., just as promised. Andy turned around to back through with his delivery. Once he'd made it, then he'd go back to his truck and bring Corrie what he'd spent the
last two days working on as a goodbye present. Goodbye dreams. Goodbye inn. Goodbye—

“Christmas at the Snowy Eaves Inn!” Corrie Bennington rushed to the door and held it open for him as she made a quick circle with her finger to coax him to turn around.

He didn't want to take his eyes off her. Nothing could have prepared him for the power of just seeing here there, smiling that bright smile that reached all the way to the beautiful eyes behind those red frames. He had expected he'd show up, drop off the entry and leave his parting gift for her. They'd be settled up and free to go their separate ways.

She made the motion again then extended her arm and whispered, “Follow my lead, okay?”

He hesitated for only a moment then gave in, because as slapdash as it had been, that was the plan. That was what he'd said he'd do. He turned slowly and stepped over the threshold into the brightly lit room.

“It's here, y'all!” Corrie called out from behind him.

She extended her arm as though she was presenting her entry for all the world to see.

And from the cheer that rose up and all the familiar faces greeting him, she was presenting it to just about everyone in his world.

“What's going on?” he asked, as he scanned the grinning faces of the mayor, the sheriff, the members of his church, his mom and sister and Buck James. “Is every entry in the contest getting this treatment?”

“Nope, because this isn't a contest entry anymore.”
She moved around in front of him and walked backwards motioning for him to keep moving as she directed.

He couldn't make sense of what she had said or what she was doing but he didn't really care. It was Corrie, smiling instead of fragile and unhappy as he'd last seen her and wearing those dopey boots. So he smiled back at her and asked, “What do you mean this isn't a contest entry? Did you withdraw?”

“I had to or be disqualified. You see in those rules you so rightly pointed out I had to follow, it clearly states that relatives of anyone on the panel of judges are not eligible to enter. And since the head judge is my great aunt Ellie…”

The mayor tipped her head in acknowledgment.

“Oh, um, Andy McFarland, this is my father,” she extended her hand toward a man that Andy had met years ago at the annual Christmas Eve Open House and the Snowy Eaves Inn. “Buck James.”

“I'd shake your hand but…” He lifted the gingerbread inn slightly.

“Oh!” Corrie moved to a table at the front of the room and patted it to let him know where to set the gingerbread replica of the inn that he would probably have to put up for sale after the first of the year. She squared her shoulders and adjusted her red glasses. “I can't enter the contest. But that puts me in the perfect spot to do this.”

She spun around and raised her hands. “If y'all will kindly gather 'round. I'd like to offer to my version of the local landmark, the Snowy Eaves Inn, for sale to the highest bidder.”

“There's something more…bidder?” He came up
behind her and muttered in her ear. “What are you doing?”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “I'm proving to you that you can trust me, Andy. I made that mess in your inn and cost you time and money. I plan to raise the money for the extra man-hours to clean it up and put it right, even if I have to provide some of those man-hours with my own two womanly little hands.”

“That's a kind gesture, Corrie.” Kinder than he deserved after the way he'd treated her. “But I don't think anyone would pay enough money for a gingerbread house to even begin—”

“I bid one hundred dollars,” called out one of the grizzled old bench setters that Corrie had charmed at the park-decorating project.

“Why would you pay that much for a house you can't sleep in or eat?” one of his compatriots demanded.

“I like pretty things,” he said without cracking a smile. “Besides, I went to my high school prom up there. Holds a sentimental value for me.”

“Well, I was married there and my wife tells me it holds
more
sentimental value for
me
—or else. So I bid two hundred.”

The numbers ran up fast. Three hundred. Four hundred. Five.

Andy couldn't believe it. They already had enough to bring in a couple more guys to get the painting and trim work done. If he and his mom and Corrie pitched in, they'd have it done in no time.

“I do appreciate this but the floors aren't going to get here in time because of the snow,” he told her even as he watched Jim Walker break up a dispute between
two determined bidders over who deserved to have the honor of casting the highest bid right down to the penny and ending the proceedings without further ado. “Then there's the issue of tablecloths and drapes. We can't pull the place together for Christmas Eve.”

“We can, if we work together. I came up with some solutions if you're open to hearing them.”

She was asking him if was capable of accepting a change of plans. He anchored his work boots on the brightly polished floor, folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. “I'm listening.”

“We paint the concrete with the wrong color gray paint and sprinkle glitter over it. It will be lovely lit by the tree, the fireplace and candles on the tables.” Her eyes shone just describing it. “And we use those spare gold-colored bedspreads and curtains and we can use the sheets for tablecloths, maybe with some gold sheer fabric as runners. What do you think?”

“I think you're right.” He looked deep into her eyes. “You can make it all come together, Corrie.”

“Sold for one thousand two-hundred, fifty-seven dollars and eighteen cents to…everyone who made a donation.” Larry Walker raised a basket full of cash and pledges and the whole crowd erupted in a cheer.

The whole town had just pitched in to help him get the inn ready in time. “Why would they do this?”

“Because you aren't the only one who cares about that inn, Andy. You showed me that when you took me to the town museum and when we went into the attic and saw all the names of people who wanted to leave a little bit of themselves behind there. People here love that place and they'd like to help you, if you'd let them.” She took
his hand, stole a look at the crowd that had now moved their focus from the fight for the inn to the fight Corrie was putting up, trying to get through to him. “It's all right, you know, to ask for help.”

“I know,” he said. He felt both humbled and heroic all at once because he knew something Corrie couldn't possibly know. He turned, brushed her hair off the corner of her glasses and then touched her cheek. “I already did ask for help—twice.”

“When?”

He couldn't take his eyes from her face. Up until this moment he had thought of himself as in charge. He thought he had come up with the game plan and carried it out according to his own directions. But here now, standing amidst these people he cared for, looking into the eyes of the woman he loved, he knew the truth. “I asked for help on the night you blew into my life.”

“Really? How did you do that?”

“In a prayer.” He tensed slightly and shut his eyes to add, “And, Greer, that does not mean this is the answer to your prayer that I get a girlfriend, because—”

“She's not your girlfriend,” the group supplied in a weary but disbelieving singsong.

“I was going to say, because that's not the real answer,” he said loud and clear. “The real answer is that God heard what was in my heart and by laying my deepest desires at His feet, He moved through me. He prepared me for an unexpected answer.”

“Does that mean you've had a change of heart?” she murmured through a soft smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“That means I am open to a change of plans,” he
whispered back. “Corrie, I was so wrong. Wrong about you. Wrong about not letting people help me, even if that meant they sometimes let me down. And I was wrong to ever let you walk out of the inn without telling you that no matter how much I did to restore the place, it would always feel incomplete without you in it.”

“Oh, Andy.” She threw her arms around his neck.

“And because I promised you the night we met that I'd put things right about your snow globe, I asked for help again yesterday.” He got out his phone and sent a quick text.

Corrie tried to steal a peek but he whisked his phone out of sight then turned to the crowd.

“As for the part about Corrie being my girlfriend…” He shifted Corrie so that he could look her in the eyes as he said, “As for Corrie being my girlfriend? She'd have to be open to staying in Vermont and helping me not just get the inn ready for Christmas Eve, but for every day after.”

She beamed up at him. “I could do that.”

“Kiss her!” someone in the group called out.

“Not until she tells me her plans.”

“I plan to follow my heart and let God order my steps. I plan to trust you, Andy McFarland but I can't stay in Vermont unless you can promise me the same things.”

“I promise,” he said softly just before he kissed her.

The crowd sighed, cheered, applauded again.

Andy felt self-conscious and pulled away, whispering in her ear, “I love you, Corrie Bennington. I know it's only been a week, but I've never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “And I love this town. It feels like home but I'm not sure how my mom will feel about me moving here.”

“Then ask her.” He took Corrie by the shoulders and turned her around to face a round-faced woman with strawberry-blond hair holding a small box before her and walking as though trying to maneuver on a tight rope.

“Barbie?” Buck James stepped out of the crowd.

“Hello, Buck,” the woman said with a shy smile and flushed cheeks. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Oh, Andy.” Tears rolled down Corrie's face.

Andy took the box from Barbara's hands. “I worked on this all day and night to make it all better for you, Corrie.”

Corrie lifted the lid off the box, reached down inside.

“I couldn't make it a snow globe again, so I…”

“You improvised,” she whispered then looked up from the rescued Snowy Eaves Inn that had been in the snow globe all these years, now in a glass and wood case.

“It still plays music and if you press this button…” He reached beneath the box, wound the music box and pushed a button that started a tiny fan. Glitter began to swirl and fly all around the box like a blizzard of sparkling fresh snow.

“I love it. You didn't just fix it, you made it better,” she told him, then she looked from her gift to her parents then up at Andy again.

“I could say the same about you.” He kissed her
lightly again and pulled her close in a tight embrace so he could whisper in her ear, “You have made everything better, Corrie. I love you and I hope we spend Christmas Eve at the Snowy Eaves Inn for many, many, many Christmases to come.”