Читать книгу Holiday Homecoming - Jean Gordon C. - Страница 9
ОглавлениеIf one more person tried to play matchmaker with him, Connor Donnelly didn’t know what he’d do, but it might not be pastorlike.
Connor flipped his jacket collar up against the cold night air as he left the parsonage for the Christmas pageant practice he was supposed to be directing. Even his older brother, Jared—the man least likely to marry—had gotten into the matchmaker act since his wedding last summer. Connor shuddered at the memory of last weekend’s blind double date.
Jared and his wife, Becca, had set him up with the younger sister of her college friend, who was in Ticonderoga on business. Becca had failed to tell the woman he was a minister. When it came up at dinner, she’d clammed up and made her exit as quickly as she could without being blatantly rude. It wasn’t that Connor would mind being married. He’d just rather do the choosing and hadn’t found a woman he cared strongly enough about, except...
Pushing that thought from his head, he drove the short distance from Hazardtown Community Church to the Sonrise Camp and Conference Center, where the practice was being held. He had more immediate things to occupy his time than his lame love life, like finding a replacement for Terry Delacroix, his church organist and the music director for the Paradox Lake churches’ annual Christmas Eve pageant and ecumenical service. His church was sponsoring the service this year, making him the production director. Acing the production would help to solidify his standing with the small faction of his congregation who still weren’t convinced Jerry Donnelly’s son was the right pastor for Hazardtown Community.
As he opened the door to the newly built camp auditorium, he caught the end of a conversation between the twelve-year-old Bissette twins, who were standing in the hallway off the entry.
“She deserves a nice Christmas present, especially since Mom says she’s getting her act together now. I think Pastor Connor would be perfect.”
“Ye-e-es!” The second twin fist-bumped her sister.
Terrific, now the kids were getting in on it. He wasn’t even going to speculate who the girls thought he’d make a perfect gift for.
Piano strains of “What Child Is This?” drifted from the auditorium, lifting Connor’s spirits. It sounded like Drew Stacey, Sonrise’s director, had gotten him a replacement. He owed his friend big-time. Connor strode into the auditorium anxious to see whom Drew had found.
“Pastor Connor,” the twins called in unison, waving him to the front.
“Do you know our aunt Natalie?” Amelia asked.
“She’s going to take Grandma’s place for the pageant,” Aimee finished for her sister.
The music stopped abruptly with a discordant sound. Natalie turned slightly on the piano bench and looked out at Connor, an anxious expression on her face. When her gaze caught his, he tripped, grasping one of the seat backs to keep his balance.
Natalie Delacroix. The woman who’d broken his heart when she’d chosen her career over him and his marriage proposal.
That was five years ago. Ancient history, he mused as he walked the rest of the way down the aisle to the front of the auditorium.
“Hello, Natalie.” The cool tone of his words surprised him, considering the battle of emotions that was going on inside him.
“Connor.” Now that he was at close range, she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“You guys already know each other,” one of the twins—Aimee, he thought—said.
“We went to high school together.” And a lot more.
He glanced sideways at Natalie. She was staring at the sheet music in front of her as if the pages would disappear if she turned from them.
The other twin, Amelia, rolled her eyes. “We should have figured that.”
The auditorium door opened. The girls squealed the name of one of their friends and went to join her, leaving him and Natalie alone.
“Are you visiting for the holidays?” he asked, again surprised at how calmly polite he sounded. The conflict-resolution training he’d taken in seminary was proving its worth.
Natalie gathered the sheet music and tucked it in a folder on the piano music stand. She was every bit as beautiful as she’d been that Christmas Eve five years ago, with her jet-black hair curling against her fair skin. Except something was missing.
“Dad and Mémé asked me to come and help Mom.” She lifted her shoulders in a Gallic shrug he’d seen her French-Canadian grandmother use many times. “You know how much work the farm is for Dad and Paul, and Mémé isn’t that well herself. Andrea’s busy with her family and part-time job. Dad wanted someone with Mom during the day.” Natalie tapped her fingers on the piano bench as she ticked off the reasons her other two sisters couldn’t help. “Claire has her work at the research farm and she’s taking grad courses, besides having used up most of her vacation time for the year. And it’s not like Renee could take off from the mission in Haiti.” She stopped tapping. “I had time. I’m between jobs. The station I was working at changed formats and didn’t have a spot for me anymore.”
Natalie spoke the words in a monotone. That was what was missing. Natalie’s spark was gone. He looked at her more closely. Her features were sharper. She was thinner. Too thin. Faint slashes of blue under her eyes emphasized the tired look they held. His heart ached, as he wondered what was behind the changes. If she was simply one of his parishioners, he’d say something, see if she wanted to talk later. But with their history, he didn’t know if he could help, or—even more—if she’d want him to.
He put on his professional face. “We’ve all been praying for your mother’s speedy recovery. I’m sure she really appreciates your being here to help out.” Like he would have appreciated Terry telling him Natalie was coming back to Paradox Lake for the holidays when he’d visited her in the hospital the day before yesterday.
“Thank you,” Natalie said, holding herself straight-backed on the bench. “I’m glad I could come and help.”
Connor shoved his fingers in the front pockets of his jeans. “Is she home from the medical center? I know she and your dad had a real scare with the postsurgical infection that caused her to be readmitted.”
“Yes.”
He could almost hear the silence following her terse reply. This was the same girl—woman—who used to chatter to him for hours, punctuating her words with animated hand motions?
“Connor,” Drew Stacey called from the back of the auditorium, relieving him of having to try and make any more small talk. “I see you’ve met Terry’s replacement.”
The note of helpful pride in Drew’s voice was unmistakable.
“From what Terry said, you and Natalie are old friends.”
Connor nodded. Were friends, and a whole lot more.
In the silence, Natalie seemed to shrink into the piano bench.
“People are arriving. I’ll get out of your way so you can get started,” Drew said. “I’ll be in the utility room working with the youth group on the stage settings. Give me a yell when you’re done, and I’ll lock up.”
“Sure thing,” Connor said. Drew’s words made Connor aware of the din of people talking and moving in the auditorium behind them.
Drew turned to Natalie before he left. “The production is a little behind schedule. Practices usually get started the week before Thanksgiving, but your mom probably told you that. You still have a month. I’m sure the two of you can pull it off.”
Natalie looked from Drew to him, her eyes full of question. Evidently, her mother hadn’t told Natalie he was directing the pageant. Connor swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He’d worked hard to forgive and forget Natalie. Now here she was, her mere presence scratching through the top layers of self-protection he’d built. He had a feeling this December might be the longest month of his life.
* * *
Connor Donnelly. Her breath hitched. At one time, she and Connor had been so attuned to each other she could practically read his thoughts before he voiced them. Either he had become a lot better at controlling his expressions or she’d lost her touch. She had no idea what was going through his mind, except that she didn’t think it was anything good. She waited for him to say something.
“I take it your mother didn’t tell you that I’m directing the Christmas pageant,” he said.
“No.” So much for her hopes that being in Paradox Lake for the holidays would bring her some peace so she could start putting her broken life back together. Working with Connor would be anything but peaceful. Her mother had to know that. “I guess I assumed that since the pageant was here at the camp, Drew was in charge.”
“Drew’s just letting us use the camp auditorium. The local association of churches sponsors the pageant. The churches decided a few years ago that we’d get a better turnout for early Christmas Eve services if we combined forces with an ecumenical service for the young families, rather than having separate ones.”
“That makes sense. How’s it working?” she asked, hoping making small talk would calm the wildfires leaping from nerve ending to nerve ending.
“Good.” His face became more animated. “We, the pastors, take turns directing.”
Natalie felt a pinch of envy at his statement. She didn’t belong anywhere anymore, not even with her family. But she was glad he was part of something. Growing up with an alcoholic father who was frequently the center of local gossip, Connor and his two brothers had often felt they didn’t fit in.
“It’s my turn this year. We’re going alphabetically by church.” Connor stopped his explanation. “If you don’t want to do this with me, say so.”
Obviously, she’d failed in her efforts to pretend she could carry off a normal conversation with him.
“Your sister Andrea said she’d play if we couldn’t find anyone else.”
“No, it’s fine. I told Mom I would.”
Natalie searched his eyes to see if he’d thrown out Andie’s name as a challenge. Quitting now and letting Andie swoop in to take over would be one more failure for Natalie in the eyes of her perfect oldest sister. But Connor wouldn’t know that. He hadn’t been around for her sister’s regular phone calls lecturing her on how she and her lifestyle—or what Andie had pretty well perceived as Natalie’s lifestyle—was hurting Mom and Dad. The calls hadn’t started until after she’d broken up with Connor and followed her college mentor to Chicago to be a television news reporter.
“You know how I love Christmas music,” she quickly added.
His mouth twisted in a half smile she couldn’t decipher.
“Natalie! Is it really you?” Her high school friend Autumn Hazard—Hanlon now—rushed up to the front of the auditorium, relieving Natalie of having to continue to face Connor alone.
“It’s me,” Natalie said, glad to see Autumn, but embarrassed that she’d cut off contact with her the past couple of years. She only knew Autumn had married because her mother had told her.
“Aunt Jinx and Drew said you were filling in for your mother.” Autumn grabbed Natalie’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming for the holidays?”
“It was a last-minute decision. Dad called, said he and Mom needed my help, and I came.”
“I’m so glad to see you.” Autumn hugged her.
Over Autumn’s shoulder, Natalie watched Connor move away to join a group of people congregating in the aisle. He hadn’t changed much since she’d last seen him. His dark blond hair was respectably shorter, the shoulders she’d leaned on maybe a little wider, and his facial features were more chiseled, making him resemble his oldest brother, Jared, and his father, rather than his mother, whom he’d looked like when he was younger. In other words, he looked good.
She couldn’t say the same for herself, Natalie thought as Autumn stepped back to look at her.
“It’s been way too long,” Autumn said. “What, the summer after our sophomore year of college?”
“Probably,” Natalie agreed. “I had an internship at WTVH in Syracuse the next summer, and after graduation, I moved to Chicago for work.” The job she’d thought was her foothold into a career in television news that had turned out to be the path to the destruction of her career and personal life.
A loud whistle penetrated the din of voices in the room. “Time to get started,” Connor said. “Sunday school kids, you can go out into the hall with Mrs. Donnelly, and she’ll explain the parts she has available. Parents, after tonight, Becca will be having rehearsals on Saturday afternoons and one day after school, rather than at night. She has information she’ll give the kids about transportation provided by the participating churches for anyone who needs it.”
Becca led a swarm of kids and parents out of the auditorium. Natalie remembered her as Mrs. Norton, her high school history teacher. Strange to think she was Connor’s sister-in-law now.
“Everyone else, up on the stage bleachers, bass in the back, then tenor, alto and soprano.”
“I’ll catch you later,” Autumn said. “Our leader has spoken.”
Natalie sat back down on the piano bench and watched the way everyone responded to Connor taking charge. He had a quiet command about him that she hadn’t seen before.
“Many of you probably remember Natalie Delacroix.” He pointed down at her and fifty or sixty sets of eyes followed his gesture.
Natalie forced herself to hold her head high and pasted her best onscreen smile on her face, wondering how much they knew about her and her fiasco in Chicago and what they might be thinking.
“Natalie has graciously agreed to take over as music director for her mother, who, for those of you who don’t know, had emergency surgery the week before last. And be rest assured our music is in good hands.”
She kept her gaze on the sheet music as Connor proceeded to tick off her qualifications.
“Eastman School of Music offered Natalie a scholarship before she decided to pursue a degree in broadcast journalism, and she minored in music at Syracuse.”
Natalie bit her lip. She’d applied to Eastman to appease her mother, not because she’d wanted to pursue a music career. Music was something she did for fun. Unlike her career, music had always given her joy.
Someone started clapping and the whole group joined in. Natalie nodded her thanks. There was no way she could back out now.
“I know I asked you to line up according to your voice type, but for Natalie’s benefit in choosing her accompaniment, please raise your hand when I say your voice type.”
Connor ran through the four types and Natalie noted the numbers. It seemed like a fairly equal distribution, plus a few undecided.
She stood. Time to stop being a shrinking violet and start being the music director. Natalie pitched her voice to carry up to the back of the stage. “Those of you who aren’t sure where your voice falls stop and see me after practice, and I’ll have you test sing then or before our next practice if you can’t stay tonight.”
“Everybody got that?” Connor asked. “Natalie, your mother went over the selections the pageant committee agreed on?”
“Yes.” She sat down and opened the music folder to the first song.
“Take it away, maestro,” he said.
Natalie lifted her fingers and flexed them. “We’ll warm up with ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.’ I’ll run though the first couple of stanzas. When I go back to the beginning again, you all join in.”
She waited for Connor to leave now that the practice was beginning. Instead, he climbed the bleachers to the tenor section and stood in front of his brother Jared. A small tremor ran through her hands as she placed her fingers on the keyboard, remembering the rich timbre of his singing voice. Until she’d turned down his proposal Christmas Eve of her senior year, they’d driven to and from college together singing to the radio the whole way. The man could really do justice to a slow country ballad. She stopped a sigh. For whatever reason, she’d expected Connor to leave.
Natalie began to play, trying to lose herself in the music. But her mind kept running over ways to avoid being caught alone with Pastor Connor again.
She finally finished the program’s closing song. “I think that’s good for tonight.” She paused. “Unless Connor has anything else.”
“No, nothing except a reminder that the next practice is next Tuesday, same time.”
A week. That gave her a week before she’d have to see Connor again. Except—the thought struck her—at church service. She shook off the feeling of uncertainty. What was with her? There wasn’t anything between her and Connor anymore. She was a big girl. She could maintain a pastor-parishioner relationship with him. But he wasn’t any ordinary pastor, and considering some of the stuff she’d gotten herself into the past couple of years, she was a far cry from his typical parishioner.
As she waited for choir members to check in with her about their range placement, a chuckle from Connor rose above the chatter, drawing her gaze to him. She followed his progress down the bleachers. The confident way he carried himself and the cordial expression on his face as he talked to those around him told her that Connor had finally found himself. Her heart warmed. She was happy for him. She could only pray that coming back might help put her on a calmer path, too.
Natalie tensed as Connor left the group and walked to the piano. She looked furtively for someone, anyone else, heading her way.
“Thanks again, Nat,” he said, slipping into the familiar nickname only her family and friends in Paradox Lake used. “See you next week.” He raised his hand in farewell as he walked past her and the piano.
“I’ll be here.” She released a pent-up breath and her anxiety about having to deal with him one-on-one flowed out with it. His short, politely distanced words were exactly what she wanted from him. So why did she feel a little more empty with each step he took away from her?
* * *
“So, what’s with you and the piano player?” Jared accosted Connor as he headed toward the utility room to let Drew know that the choir was done.
“I can help with that one.” His other brother, Josh, seemed to appear from the shadows. “Natalie was Connor’s first love.”
The mocking tone Josh put on the last two words ignited a spark of anger. “Where’d you come from?” Connor asked, forcing himself to ignore the taunt. This was Josh, after all. The man who’d never dated a woman long enough to have any feelings for her.
“I stopped by to help Drew and the kids with the settings. He gave me the key to give to you to lock up.” Josh handed him a key ring. “Now, back to the beauteous Natalie Delacroix...”
Natalie was beautiful, and Josh was no longer mocking. Still, Connor had a childish urge to demand Josh “take that back,” the kind of demand that had resulted in more than one teenage brother brawl.
“I think the lady dumped our baby bro their last year of college,” Josh said.
“Something like that,” Connor mumbled, glad that Josh didn’t know the full story. Even though the two of them were close, Josh had a reckless streak that had stopped Connor from telling him beforehand that he was going to ask Nat to marry him, despite Connor having been certain at the time that she’d say “yes.” That move had saved him from the embarrassment of having to share being shot down.
“You guys still on for helping me with the cottage Saturday morning?” Josh asked.
For once, Josh’s habit of making things all about him didn’t bother Connor.
“We’ll be there,” Jared said. “Brendon can’t wait. I got him his own scaled-down tool belt.”
Connor admired the way his oldest brother had bonded with his stepson and went out of his way to be a father to him in a way their father had never been to them.
“Connor?”
“Sure, as long as nothing more pressing comes up.” Connor couldn’t think of any reason right now that he wouldn’t be able to help Josh work on the decrepit lakeside cottage he’d bought to fix up and sell. He was being contrary. Josh had a way of bringing the worst out in him.
His brother frowned.
“Like an emergency with one of my parishioners.”
“Right. See you Saturday.” Josh left.
“I’m going to do a walk around to make sure everything is turned off before I lock up,” Connor said to Jared. “Catch you at Josh’s Saturday.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” Jared said. “I need a lift home. I told Becca if she finished earlier than we did to go ahead home, and I’d get a ride from you.”
“Pretty sure of yourself.”
“Yeah.”
Connor tossed his car keys at his brother. “Make yourself useful and go run the heater so the car’s warm when I get out.”
A couple of minutes later, Connor joined Jared. He put the car in Reverse to pull out of the parking space.
“Natalie Delacroix,” Jared said out of nowhere. “I knew I recognized her.”
Connor hit the brakes harder than necessary and skidded on the icy parking lot. Recognized her from where? She would have been eleven when Jared left Paradox Lake for the motocross circuit.
“When I was racing in the Midwest, she was a reporter on one of the local stations,” Jared said.
Connor shrugged and put the car in Drive. “She had a mentor her senior year who was an anchor at one of the Chicago affiliate stations. He was a guest instructor at Syracuse. She’d talked about him helping her get a job when she graduated.”
“No, this was a smaller, local station. But I’m sure it was her.”
“Maybe. After we broke up, I didn’t keep track of her. It was part of my ‘get Natalie out of my system’ program.”
“That bad?” Jared asked.
“That bad.” Connor considered telling him about his proposal, but thought again.
Jared nodded and went quiet for a couple of minutes. “Kirk Sheldon. Was that her mentor?”
“Sounds right.” Connor knew it was right.
“You can take this for what it’s worth. I only know what I read on the ‘People’ page of a suburban Chicago newspaper.”
Connor glanced sideways at his brother. Jared looked like he was weighing whether to continue. “Since when do you read gossip pages?” he asked to fill the lull.
Jared glared at him. “Since my publicist suggested it. The page had a story about me that she’d wanted to make sure I read as a lesson in what I shouldn’t be doing.”
Connor snorted. “You’re going to tell me there was a story about Natalie, too?”
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
He wanted to put his hands over his ears and shout no. “Go ahead,” he said.
“It was before I caught her on TV that time. I didn’t connect the two until now.”
“I don’t need background. Just the details.” And the fewer, the better.
“The news anchor was estranged from his wife, an overseas correspondent, and apparently dating Natalie.”
Natalie and her professor? Connor clenched his jaw. She’d gone on about Kirk this and Kirk that. He’d thought it was her usual chatter. Had she been two-timing him? The man had to be fifteen years older than them. He gripped the steering wheel until his hands hurt.
“I know the paper blew it all out of proportion. They always do.” Jared stopped again. “To cut to the chase, the news anchor and his wife reunited and he publicly apologized for his indiscretions. Natalie was his latest. He stopped just short of naming names, but the writer insinuated that he was involved with Natalie. The story covered the reconciliation. ‘Local anchor breaks love triangle and reconciles with wife,’ or some such garbage. Natalie was collateral damage.”
Poor Natalie. Despite his fresh hurt that she might have been interested in Kirk before they’d broken up, he wasn’t going to judge. Only God could do that.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Jared said. “But I’d take care.”
Connor got the implied “concerning Natalie.”
“Much as I hated the bad press I got when I was on the motocross circuit, parts of it were true. And the reputation I got from those stories hurt Becca. Your contract is up for renewal at the end of the year. Some of the members of the congregation are still warming up to your being Jerry Donnelly’s kid. And I know how much serving here means to you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m a big boy. I can handle my own life.” Connor yanked the steering wheel to turn into Jared’s driveway and brought the car to an abrupt stop.
“See you Saturday,” Jared said. He stepped out of the car and closed the door without waiting for Connor’s response.
Good move on Jared’s part. At the moment, he was inclined to blow off Saturday.
Connor drove home, parked his car in the parsonage garage and stepped out into the frigid night air. A vision of Natalie’s drawn face and empty gaze shadowed him into the house. He knew he should give her a wide berth, not so much to protect his ministry at Hazardtown Community Church, but to protect his heart. And he would, starting tomorrow, once he’d gotten control over the concern for her that Jared’s story had raised and his almost overpowering need to seek her out and shelter her in his arms.
