Mistletoe Prayers Read online

  She was flooded with the enthusiasm she always felt when she explained her lifework to someone new, someone interested.

  “You see, we’ve found that involving these children with animals, especially hurting or abandoned animals, can really help them. They start accepting responsibility for a helpless creature, and that helps them to heal.”

  She had the sudden feeling that Travis had withdrawn. He hadn’t moved an inch physically, his hand still inches from hers on the weathered gate. But the icy look in his eyes set her at a distance.

  “What’s the matter?” The question came out involuntarily.

  “You can’t help what’s wrong with an abused kid by letting him play with animals.” The words came out harshly, like a blow in the face.

  Her chin went up. “That’s not it at all. We have a board of qualified professionals who help us decide on a suitable approach for each child. This isn’t just random playtime. Abused children—”

  “Abused children need to be taken away from their abusers.” He flung the words at her from across what seemed a wide chasm. “They need to see those people punished.”

  “That’s not—”

  The crunch of gravel interrupted her, and she caught her breath, trying to regain her composure.

  “The children are here for the after-school program. Maybe we’d better have this conversation later. Excuse me.” She spun, not looking at him, and marched off toward the van.

  She ought to be used to people not understanding the value of her program. She had a calm, reasoned approach to dealing with them. She’d been anything but calm with Travis.

  She didn’t want to think about why. She smiled and waved as kids came tumbling out of the van. Their arrival had interrupted the quarrel. But it hadn’t ended it.

  Chapter Three

  It was Sunday morning, and Travis was still haunted by his reaction to that encounter with Annabel’s kids’ program on Thursday. He should have forgotten about it by now, but he couldn’t.

  If he’d known about it ahead of time—well, no point going back. He just had to find a way to escape any further involvement. With those kids. Maybe with Annabel, too.

  He fell into step with Hugh and Miz Callie as they walked toward the church. The elderly woman looked up at him, smiling, her blue eyes bright.

  “You haven’t forgotten you’re coming out to the beach house for Sunday dinner, now, have you?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Good. Looks as if we’re going to have a nice day for it.” She squinted at the sunlight reflecting from the white steeple that topped the church. “Annabel can take you for a walk on the beach.”

  She seemed to assume that Annabel was the one designated to entertain him. Given the mix of feelings he had every time he looked at Annabel, that wasn’t the best of ideas, but he could hardly argue with an elderly lady.

  “I guess this is the church where the Living Nativity is going to be?” he asked, slipping away from the subject of walks on the beach with Annabel.

  “Sure is.” She gestured toward a stack of lumber on the lawn that spread between the white-columned church and a red-brick building that must be some sort of annex, judging by the children who were streaming into it.

  “Looks as if they have a little building to do,” Hugh commented.

  “Careful.” Annabel, walking ahead of them with her mother, tossed the word over her shoulder. “I hear Pastor Tim is looking for volunteers.”

  The teasing that erupted between her and Hugh gave Travis an excuse to study Annabel. Dressed for church in crisp gray slacks and a coral sweater set, she looked just as pretty as she had in jeans and that favorite flannel shirt of hers.

  Was he imagining it, or was there a bit more coolness in her manner toward him since he’d said what he thought about her program? Probably. She hadn’t spoken of it since then, and neither had he. He wouldn’t have said as much as he did if he hadn’t been caught by surprise.

  Or if it hadn’t been Annabel. He might as well admit that she had a gift for getting to him.

  They walked through the double doors to the sanctuary, and he found himself filing into the pew next to Annabel. She sat down, turning to him with a little more warmth in her expression.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said softly. “I never feel as if Christmas is coming until I see the church decorated.”

  He nodded, taking in the interior of the sanctuary. He’d been surprised by how plain and simple it was, with its white columns marching down the rows of white wooden pews. Garlands wound around the columns, and the windowsills blossomed with greens and candles. The fresh scent of pine filled the air.

  “I guess you’ve gone to church here a long time.”

  “Since birth,” she agreed. “We were all baptized right up there.” She nodded toward the front of the sanctuary.

  Hugh leaned across her. “I still say the pastor mixed up the two of you. You were really baptized Amanda.”

  “Stop that.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “You were only four at the time. What do you know about it?”

  Mrs. Bodine sent a frown down the pew at her offspring. “You children behave in church, y’heah?”

  Annabel leaned back, her sleeve brushing his. “Mamma’s been saying that ever since I can remember,” she murmured. “If we didn’t give her a reason to do it once in a while, she’d be disappointed.”

  “You’re lucky.” The words were out before he reflected that once again he’d said more to Annabel than he intended.

  She fixed that wide blue gaze on him. “Didn’t you have siblings?”

  That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he seized on it. “I was an only child.” Good thing, as it turned out. If he’d had a kid brother or sister to try to protect…

  The minister took his place behind the pulpit, saving Travis from the danger of having Annabel question him about his family.

  He got through the service by watching Annabel, standing when she did, sitting when she did. Not that a worship service was totally unfamiliar. The second foster family he’d been with had been great churchgoers.

  He’d been surprised at the time to find comfort in that. He’d dared to think there might be a Heavenly Father who cared for him, since his own so obviously didn’t.

  It hadn’t lasted, of course. He’d been moved again. The Robinsons could have fought to keep him, but they hadn’t. One place followed another, and whatever faith he’d tried to cling to had been lost in the shuffle.

  He’d gotten along fine without it. The coast guard was all he needed.

  Still, he couldn’t deny that he was touched by the service. The music, the prayers, the pastor’s resonant voice when he talked about the peace of Christmas…that would touch anyone short of Scrooge.

  And when he saw the sheen of tears in Annabel’s eyes as they stood to sing the final carol, a wave of tenderness swept over him that scared him.

  The last prayer was spoken, the service ended and the family moved from the pew and started toward the doors. He stood back, letting Hugh go between him and Annabel. That was safer.

  But she paused, obviously looking for him, when she reached the spot where the minister stood greeting people as they left the service. She caught his sleeve and pulled him toward her.

  “Pastor Tim, I’d like to introduce Lieutenant Travis McCall. He’s a friend of Luke’s, just transferred here from Alaska. Travis, Pastor Tim Gunnel.”

  Travis found his hand clasped in a solid grip as the lean, graying, middle-aged man surveyed him. “You’re welcome here, Travis. I hope we’ll be seeing a lot of you. I understand you’re giving Annabel a hand out at the farm.”

  “Yes, sir.” News certainly did travel fast. “Thank you.”

  Should he say something nice about the service? He wasn’t sure of the etiquette, so it was probably better to say too little than too much.

  “Good service, Pastor Tim.” Hugh reached over to grasp the man’s hand, and Travis was gl
ad to have that probing gaze turned on someone else.

  “Hugh, you’re just the man I wanted to see.” Pastor Tim clasped him firmly by the arm, as if Hugh might make a break for it. “I was hoping I could convince you to take over building the stable for the Nativity. You will, won’t you?”

  Even Hugh’s composure faltered a little at the pastor’s confidence. “Well, I’m not sure I…”

  “He’d be happy to.” Hugh’s father, looming behind him, answered for him. “We’ll all give him a hand. It’s a pleasure.”

  “Right,” Hugh echoed, and Travis wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “We’ll handle it.”

  Once they were out on the sidewalk, Annabel grinned at her brother. “Told you so,” she said.

  “Oh, well, it’s not too much work, I guess. If my baby sister can provide the animals and Amanda can direct the thing, I guess I can put in some labor.” Hugh glanced at him, eyebrows lifting. “What do you say, Travis? You want to give us a hand?”

  “I’m game.” No one could blame him for spending less time in Annabel’s company if he was helping Hugh with the stable, could they?

  “Good man.” Hugh clapped his shoulder. “How about Tuesday afternoon? I’m free then.”

  “Fine by me.” What could be better? That would get him safely away from the farm when the kids were there.

  “Not Tuesday, Hugh.” Annabel broke in. “Can’t you do it some other time? I was counting on Travis’s help with the kids. Sam has his GED prep course then, so he won’t be around.” She turned to Travis, putting her hand on his arm. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Well, I…” It was awfully hard to say no with those blue eyes looking at him so pleadingly. “I guess I can—”

  “Might have known,” Hugh said with mock bitterness. “Don’t let the twins fool you with that helpless little female act. They’ve been getting what they want that way since they were two.”

  “I do not play the helpless female,” Annabel retorted. “And if you don’t watch it I’ll sic Amanda on you. See how brave you are against the two of us.”

  Hugh held up his hands in surrender. “I give. You can have him on Tuesday. Maybe he can give me a hand on Wednesday afternoon, if that suits you.”

  Travis nodded. Annabel and her siblings obviously enjoyed their mock battles, and after just a few days around the Bodine clan, he was beginning to understand what had given Luke the easy confidence that marked everything he did.

  But the bottom line was that Travis would be helping Annabel with those kids, and he wasn’t at all sure he could keep from speaking his mind about it.

  “You really didn’t need to help with the cleanup after dinner. You’re a guest, after all, although we’ve been putting you to work like one of the family.”

  The afternoon sun slanted across the deck at the beach house, sparkling on the waves. Annabel stood next to Travis, wondering if she had the nerve to say the thing that lay at the back of her mind.

  “It was my pleasure.” Travis leaned his elbows on the railing, looking down at the group playing softball on the beach. “Tell me again who everyone is so I don’t call anybody by the wrong name.”

  “They wouldn’t mind if you did,” she assured him.

  Travis was an odd mixture of professional confidence and a sort of shy diffidence where her family was concerned. She sometimes caught him watching them as if he studied creatures from another planet.

  “You know my brother Hugh. And that’s Adam, my cousin.” She pointed to her tall cousin, who was bent over the small boy who would soon be his stepson, helping him hit the ball with a fat plastic bat. “Cathy, his fiancée, and her little boy, Jamie. And you’ve met my cousin Georgia, her husband, Matt, and their little girl, Lindsay.” She grinned. “Miz Callie took pity on you and didn’t invite the whole crew today. She said if we didn’t introduce you gradually to the Bodines, you’d probably run right back to Alaska.”

  He looked down at her, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’m not that easily scared.”

  Except by the troubled children in her after-school program, it seemed to her. She’d been thinking it for the past several days, but she hadn’t been able to make up her mind to say anything. It wasn’t any of her business why he’d reacted so strongly, was it? Still…

  “You know, there’s somethin’ else you don’t need to do, besides cleaning up dishes.” She took the plunge without giving herself time to second-guess. “I know I put you on the spot, but you don’t need to help me with the after-school kids. I can round up someone else to lend a hand if you…”

  She let that sentence die, because Travis was shaking his head.

  “Don’t. I’ll do it.” He paused. His gaze was fixed on the ballplayers, but she didn’t think he saw them. “I just wasn’t prepared, that’s all. It’ll be fine.”

  There was a trace of something…doubt, maybe…under the words, and that troubled her. She put her hand on his arm, and it was so warm and strong that she wanted to snatch her hand away. But she didn’t.

  “Are you sure?” She looked into his face, trying to see what was in his heart.

  He put his hand over hers, clasping it so firmly that her breath caught. “I’m sure.” His deep voice had roughened.

  For a moment, she thought he was going to say something else, maybe even to tell her what lay behind his attitude. But Hugh hailed them from the beach.

  “Hey, Annabel. Travis. Come on down. We need some help beating the small fry.”

  Travis drew his hand away from hers and returned Hugh’s wave. “Ready to go down?”

  “You go ahead.” It took an effort to keep her voice even. “I’ll get Miz Callie.”

  But he’d barely disappeared down the stairs of the deck when Miz Callie stepped through the sliding door. Annabel gave her grandmother a stern look.

  “Miz Callie, you weren’t eavesdropping, now, were you?”

  “’Course not, child.” Miz Callie joined her at the rail, putting her arm around Annabel’s waist. “I just didn’t want to interrupt when y’all were getting so close, that’s all.”

  Annabel could feel the heat in her cheeks. “We weren’t…I mean, we were just talking about the kids’ program, that’s all. He seemed a little bothered by it, and I wanted him to feel free to back off.”

  “He didn’t, did he?” Miz Callie smiled when Annabel shook her head. “I didn’t think so. That boy has got a strong sense of duty. And a good heart to go with it, if I’m any judge.”

  Annabel gave her a squeeze. “You’re the best judge of people I’ve ever met, Miz Callie. I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Seems to me you were well on your way to finding out for yourself what makes Travis McCall tick.” Miz Callie’s eyes twinkled.

  “I…I’m just trying to make him feel welcome. There’s nothing more to it.”

  Miz Callie cocked her head. “Why not?”

  “What?” She blinked, staring at her grandmother.

  “You heard me, child. Seems like the two of you might really hit it off, if you didn’t back away every time a man gets close.”

  She was used to the frontal attack from her sister, but she hadn’t expected it from her grandmother. She stared down at her hand, which was clenched on the railing. “Truth is, I’m scared of getting too close.”

  “Annabel, sugar, it’s been two years. Don’t you think it’s time to let your former fiancé go? Foster showed he wasn’t worthy of you when he walked away.”

  “I have let him go.” It was true. She barely thought of Foster anymore. “But it seems like I just don’t have the courage to take that risk of loving someone again.”

  There was a little silence once she’d said the words. Then Miz Callie patted her hand. “I know, child. I know your confidence took a pretty hard knock. But you have to start trusting your judgment again sometime. Seems like now might be a good time.”

  She shook her head, her throat tight. “I wish I could.”

  “There, now, it�
�s all right.” Miz Callie patted her again. “I just don’t want you to give up.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Miz Callie put her small, still-strong hand against Annabel’s cheek, as she had when Annabel was a small child. “You do that. And I reckon you’re going to find that when you need the courage enough, God is going to give it to you.”

  “Are you ready?” Travis asked the question, but he had a feeling that he was the one who wasn’t ready for this.

  The little girl in the wheelchair smiled, nodding. The red helmet she wore bobbled with the nod, and she raised her arms to him.

  “Mandie loves Dolly.” The teenage girl Annabel had assigned to help him held the head of the black-and-white pinto pony. “She’ll do fine, won’t you, sugar?”

  The child’s mother, holding the handles of the chair, nodded, as well.

  His fears allayed a bit, Travis bent, lifting the little girl in his arms. She was so light that it seemed she could float right up onto the saddle. Travis settled her into place, and she gripped the saddle horn with both hands. Casey, the teenager, fastened the safely harness around the child deftly.

  Maybe Annabel had exaggerated a bit when she’d said she needed him today. She had three teenage girls, who were obviously practiced helpers, and several parents had come with their children. Still, he could understand that she might want to have another adult around who understood the animals.

  He grasped Mandie the way Annabel had shown him, countering the child’s tendency to slip to one side. Casey went to Dolly’s head, sending him an inquiring glance.

  “Okay?”

  He nodded. Dolly moved off at a slow walk, and he kept pace with her. Mandie, clutching the saddle tightly, seemed to concentrate on the pony’s head, bobbing in front of her—trying to keep her balance, he realized. Exerting as much effort and concentration on that simple act as he might landing a helicopter on a ship’s deck at night. The thought wrenched at his heart

  He smiled at her. “Doing great, Mandie. Just great. Let yourself feel Dolly’s movements under you.”