The Pastor's Christmas Courtship. Glynna Kaye

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      Garrett raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I only found out last night. Ran into her by accident.”

      Drew squinted one eye. “That true, Jodi?”

      “One hundred percent.” It seemed surreal to be standing here talking to these two grown men she’d known when they were boys, and again she felt that faint sensation of suffocation. Disorientation. “I’ll be in town long enough to take care of family business related to Grandma and Grandpa’s cabin and then right back out again.”

      “Maybe we can—”

      “Wish I could let you two catch up on old times.” Garrett gave them a regretful look. “But Marisela Palmer sent me in here to retrieve Jodi, and I don’t want her to come looking for the both of us.”

      “Scaredy-cat,” Drew taunted.

      “Guilty as charged.” He tilted his head toward Jodi. “Marisela’s in the car and waiting.”

      She and Drew said their goodbyes, then she impulsively leaned over to give him a quick hug.

      “Talk about a shock,” she whispered to Garrett as they stepped into the noontime sun and still-crisp air. “I feel so bad for Drew.”

      Garrett’s jaw hardened as he nodded, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “Me, too.”

      * * *

      “How did you con this poor girl into taking on the Christmas project, Garrett? Shame on you for burdening a visitor with church responsibilities.” Georgia Gates clucked her tongue as she gazed at him from across the Lovells’ dining table. “When we heard Melody headed off to Texas, we thought for sure you’d recruit Sofia.”

      Here we go again.

      Garrett reluctantly looked up from his half-eaten apple pie to focus his attention on the older woman. Aware that all eyes at the Sunday lunch table were on him—including Jodi’s—he placed his fork on his plate and carefully schooled his features to what he hoped was a pastor-like demeanor.

      The ink had barely dried on his church contract when it seemed a not-too-subtle campaign commenced to set him up with Sofia Ramos. Is that why all the church ladies he’d talked to yesterday turned down his plea for assistance? They thought if none of them stepped up he’d be forced to call on the attractive single mom?

      But they didn’t know Sofia’s whole story, and it wasn’t his to tell.

      “I think Sofia’s hands are plenty full right now, don’t you, Georgia? She’s working full-time, and there are Leon’s health issues to consider.”

      “I’ve always heard,” Georgia persisted, with an emphatic nod to the others, “that if you need something done, give it to the person who is already successfully juggling a million things and they’ll get it done, too. That’s our Sofia.”

      “It’s the holidays, though.” Garrett again picked up his fork. “Let’s show her a little mercy, shall we?”

      Jodi gave him a pointed look as if to convey he hadn’t let her off the hook for the holidays. But Sofia was the widow of a volunteer fireman who’d been killed on an icy winter road two years ago. She had enough on her shoulders as it was.

      “The issue’s been settled, Georgia,” Dolly chimed in, coming to his rescue. “Thanks to Jodi, who has a big heart like her dear grandma.”

      Marisela smiled at Jodi fondly. “You probably wouldn’t remember—you were only here a few days at Christmas some years—but your grandmother had so much fun helping Melody make deliveries. She loved holding the babies.”

      “So, then, young lady—” Good-natured Bert Palmer, Marisela’s balding, rotund husband, leaned a forearm on the table. “Christmas is two weeks away. What’s the plan?”

      Startled—and looking prettier in that emerald-green turtleneck sweater than a woman had a right to look—Jodi’s gaze flew to Garrett. “I assumed that at some point that’s what someone would tell me.”

      “She accepted the role last night, Bert.” Garrett set his fork down again with an inward sigh. Forget the pie. “I picked up Melody’s notes and checklist from the office this morning, so we need time to sort it out.”

      “You’ll need volunteers. I can help.” Georgia smiled encouragingly at Jodi. Then, apparently realizing she’d been asked to volunteer yesterday and turned him down flat, she cut a sheepish look in Garrett’s direction. “I can help, Pastor. But I can’t take on the whole thing right now. Getting ready for grandkids coming next week, you know.”

      “I can assist, too.” Marisela nodded in Jodi’s direction. “I’ve helped in past years but, like Georgia, I couldn’t assume responsibility for it all.”

      Dolly cut another slice of pie and slid it onto her husband’s offered plate. “You can count on me, too, sweetheart. Let me know what I need to do. The young unwed mothers are so appreciative of any assistance they get, and we always come through for them. Baby food. Diapers. Maternity and infant wear. All topped off by a generous helping of things intended to pamper them a bit. I love seeing their faces when they open the packages.”

      Jodi’s gaze, unexpectedly bleak, met Garrett’s.

      Guilt stabbed. Had he, in trying to get the project off his own overloaded plate, asked her to take on too much?

      * * *

      Unwed mothers.

      She still couldn’t believe she’d signed on to immerse herself in the world of young women with babies and no husbands. That was a situation she could all too vividly relate to. But she’d given Garrett her word, and Grandma’s friends were looking at her as if she were Grandma come back to life.

      But Garrett now appeared rather uncertain. Was he having second thoughts about her ability to take it on, thinking she’d let him and the church down?

      Despite the initial shock last night, she could handle this. There was no reason she had to spend time with unwed mothers and their infants, was there? She’d sit in the overseer’s chair and delegate. Her grandmother’s friends promised support, as, she assumed, would others. They could be the ones making any required personal contacts.

      Holding the babies.

      Feeling the phone vibrating in the purse nestled by her feet, she excused herself from the table. In the hallway outside the dining room, she checked the caller ID. Her sister, Star.

      “Aunt Jodi?” The giggling voice of her sister’s five-year-old, Bethany, came through the earpiece.

      “Hi, sweetie.”

      “Is it true you’re a Grinch?” A peal of childish laughter ensued, and Jodi could hear Star whispering something to her daughter as she took possession of the phone.

      “Funny, Star.”

      “I didn’t coach her to say that, Jodi. Honest.”

      “Maybe not. But she overheard that somewhere, and I doubt СКАЧАТЬ