The Pastor's Christmas Courtship. Glynna Kaye
Not in a million years.
He shrugged. “Looking back, God’s been dogging me at least since my first rafting trip on the Colorado when He really opened my eyes to the beauty and intricacy of His creation. Unfortunately, I wasn’t willing to listen until about five years ago.”
He was serious. This was for real.
“I’m sorry I laughed, Garrett. I was just so—”
“Shocked? Don’t feel bad. My family, except for Mom and Grandma Jo, still isn’t quite sure what to make of it. Some church members who knew ‘the me that was’ haven’t bought into it, either.”
She couldn’t help but continue to stare at him. “This is amazing.”
“That it is.” He took a step back. “As usual, though, time’s gotten away from me this week and my Sunday message awaits. But maybe we could get together while you’re in town. Catch up.”
She didn’t want to catch anybody up on her life outside Hunter Ridge. Things she wasn’t proud of. Wounds that had yet to heal. A faith that was currently so wobbly it wasn’t funny. “Let’s see how it goes, okay? There’s lots to do to get this place ready to sell.”
“You’ll be at the worship service tomorrow?”
Not eager to interact with those who might remember her—or to see young mothers with their precious little ones—she hadn’t planned to go. But having laughed at him, expressed such blatant disbelief, might Garrett take a refusal the wrong way?
“You can count on it.”
“See you there then.” Eyes smiling, he lifted his hand in a parting wave as he stepped off the side porch. “Ten thirty.”
A few strides away, he halted in his tracks as if he’d thought of something he’d forgotten to say. Maybe he wanted to offer her a ride to church? Then apparently changing his mind, he tramped on through the falling snow.
Almost dazed, she stood at the door watching as he disappeared into the darkness. Garrett McCrae. A pastor. A heavy weight settled into the region of her heart as she closed and bolted the door.
Sorry to point this out, Lord, but your timing stinks.
She’d barely turned off the porch light and entered the kitchen when the door rattled from a firm pounding knock.
When she turned on the light and reopened the door, there stood Garrett once again.
“What did you forget?”
“Actually...” He paused as though undecided as to how to proceed. Totally un-Garrett-like. Then he plunged on. “I need to ask you something.”
Oh, please, don’t say anything about that night. The night he’d made it clear his little tomboy pal didn’t meet his standards for female companionship.
“I know you have to get this place cleaned up, but what if I helped? Recruited others to help?” His gaze now met hers in open appeal. “Do you think, then, that you might have time to oversee a church Christmas project while you’re here?”
Was he kidding?
“I don’t think there’s much left to do,” he hurried on, “but my office assistant who stays on top of it all year had a family emergency and can’t follow through. All afternoon I beat the bushes to find a replacement, but came up empty-handed. Unless things have changed, though, you have more organizational ability in your little finger than most have in their whole body.”
He gazed at her with hopeful eyes as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.
“You want me to take on a church project while I’m here?”
“Oversee it. You wouldn’t have to do all the work. I imagine Melody has it well in hand. But none of the other volunteers feel confident in assuming the responsibility.”
“To be honest, Garrett, I don’t think I would either.” No way did she want to be sucked into something like that, even for a good cause. Getting through church tomorrow would be about as much socializing as she could manage.
“You sell yourself short, Jodi.” Garrett’s words lilted persuasively, too reminiscent of times he’d conned her as a kid into doing things she’d later come to regret. “Remember how you turned around your Grandma’s floundering yard sale? And you were only what—eleven? Twelve?”
“Thirteen.” Grandma hadn’t a clue about grouping similar items and showing them off to best advantage. Or about negotiation. Despite a clearly stickered, more-than-fair price, she would accept the first ridiculously low offer without batting an eye. In addition to rearranging the merchandise, Jodi had put a stop to that.
She couldn’t help but smile at the memory.
“See?” Garrett almost gloated. “You do remember. You have a gift, Jodi, and maybe God’s called you to be in town right now so you can use it for His glory.”
She folded her arms. “I’m not falling for the ‘God loves you and Garrett McCrae has a wonderful plan for your life’ stuff.”
Eyes twinkling, he shrugged. “Figured it was worth a try. So how about it? It won’t take that much time, and I can round up some high schoolers to help whip your cabin into shape. Even if I have to get my own hands dirty, I’ll see that you have extra time for the Christmas project. It’s one that is near and dear to my Grandma Jo’s heart—and was to your grandma’s as well.”
While help cleaning out the place would be welcome, no fair bringing Grandma into the equation.
“What exactly will this entail?” Why was she even asking, allowing Garrett to sway her after all these years? But maybe she was letting her personal problems turn her into a Grinch as her sisters had accused. Becoming selfish. All about me. “I’d be organizing the distribution of canned goods? Clothing? Toys?”
“All of the above. Behind-the-scenes work.”
Would it really kill her to help out? To make a little room in her own plans during the next two weeks? She might not be able to boil water, but she did have a knack for project management, a talent she was paid well for in the corporate world. How hard could it be if this Melody person had been keeping on top of the project since early in the year as Garrett claimed? And maybe it would be a means of honoring her grandmother’s memory.
“I guess...I can take this on.”
Garrett grinned. “You won’t regret it, Jodi, I promise. Melody says this project is the highlight of her whole year—that there’s nothing better for the soul than making the holiday season brighter for unwed mothers.”
A blast of cold air from the open door swirled in around Jodi’s ankles, sending a shiver rippling through her.
Unwed mothers?
* * *
“You’d better get moving, Garrett. You don’t want to be late again.”
Cutting off his hummed rendition of “O Holy Night,” he glanced at the rail-thin gray-haired woman standing in the doorway to his room on Sunday morning. Seventy-year-old Dolly Lovell and her husband had taken him in as a boarder a year ago when he’d been cautioned that as a single pastor it might not be advisable to get a place of his own and he hadn’t want to bunk back with his folks. As it turned out, this lodging arrangement not only came with meals and occasional help with laundry, but also built-in chaperones.
“I’m heading out right now.” He reached to the top of an antique dresser for his Bible and an iPad filled with sermon notes, then gave his part-time church receptionist a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Al to keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Dressed for church herself, a smiling Dolly shook her head as he slipped by her. “It’s a dirty job, Pastor McCrae, but somebody has to do it.”
There was probably more truth