Rediscovering Christmas
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Mindy Obenhaus
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Chapter One
Tori Stallings could hardly wait to get home Sunday afternoon. The two gallons of airy blue-gray paint tucked in the back seat of her Ford Escape would soon coat the walls of her newly renovated kitchen, the perfect complement to the white cabinets and marble-look, solid-surface countertops that had been installed just before school had started almost a month ago.
Maneuvering her vehicle around a curve on the farm-to-market road, she tried not to dwell on the fact that the project should’ve been completed in July, which would have given her the remainder of her summer break to put the finishing touches on the space before heading back to a classroom full of third graders in August.
Oh, well. It was what it was. All in God’s timing. After all, she’d been living in her late parents’ house for years now. It was the only home her son, Aiden, had ever known. Still, the kitchen transformation had marked her first step in making the house she’d grown up in their own. After almost a decade of adjusting to change—the loss of her mother, the birth of a child, and the loss of her husband—it was time to focus on herself and Aiden. Creating a home for them, instead of just existing there. At least she should be able to have things completed in time for Aiden’s birthday party in a few weeks.
She shook her head. How was it possible her baby was about to turn six?
Thankfully, Aiden had gone home with her mother-in-law, Peggy, after church today and was probably wearing himself out in the swimming pool with his uncle Micah. That should give Tori enough time to get a good head start on her project before Aiden returned.
Through her sunglasses, she scanned the horizon, spotting a column of what looked like smoke billowing into the air somewhere in the distance. As windy as it was today, that was not a good thing, especially with the summer they’d had. Temperatures had been near, at, or above the century mark since June and rainfall had been sparse all year. Pastures were brown and barren, forcing ranchers to either sell off cattle or bring in hay to feed their herds.
Since Micah, her brother-in-law, was a member of the Hope Crossing Volunteer Fire Department, he was likely on the scene, so Tori pressed the button on her steering wheel to call Peggy in hopes of finding out what was going on.
Two rings later. “Hello, Tori.”
“I see smoke in the distance. Any idea what’s going on?”
“Micah took off shortly after lunch. I can’t see anything from our place, but word is it’s somewhere west of town.”
That was why she’d called. Because she lived west of town.
Ignoring the slight stutter of her heart she said, “Have you heard from him at all since then?”
“No, I haven’t.”
That had to be good news, right? Micah would’ve called if her home was in danger. After all, he wasn’t just her brother-in-law. They’d been best friends since elementary school.
She released a tiny sigh of relief. “In that case, I’m going to go on home and see if I can’t knock out a little bit of painting before I come and get Aiden, if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course, it is. He’s playing in the pool with Jeremy and Trevor. Hank brought them over.” Hank was Peggy’s beau and the twins were his grandsons.
“I’m sure the three of them are having a ball.” Tori approached the one and only stoplight in Hope Crossing, Texas, her gaze again drawn to that smoke cloud. “Call if you need me.”
“Will do, hon.”
Tori continued through town, her unease mounting the farther west she drove. That was some serious smoke. Arching across the otherwise blue sky, it appeared to grow increasingly dark. Yet as the road curved left and right, getting a good sense of its exact location proved difficult.
She white-knuckled the steering wheel, a sour taste filling her mouth as an invisible weight settled on her chest. God, please let my house be okay.
Her phone rang and when Micah’s name appeared on her dash, she promptly answered. “Micah? What’s going on with that fire?”
“Where are you?”
“A few minutes from my house.” She spotted flashing lights up ahead. “What’s happening?”
“I’ll meet you as quick as I can.”
“Where—” The line went dead.
Trying not to panic, she approached her turn, only to find it blocked by two sheriff’s vehicles. Beyond them, half a dozen red-and-white trucks in various shapes and sizes bearing the fire department’s insignia sat at the ready, while firefighters in their turnout gear gathered nearby.
Breathe, Tori. Just breathe.
She pulled up as close as she could and rolled down her window. The afternoon heat slithered into the air-conditioned space as Deputy Brady James—Hank’s son and Jeremy and Trevor’s father, not to mention an old schoolmate of hers—approached. “Brady, I need to get home.”
Sweat trailed from his brow onto his cheek. “Sorry, Tori. Not without an escort.”
“What do you mean an escort?” Removing her sunglasses, she noticed a red pickup truck with flashing emergency lights rapidly approaching from the opposite side of the blockade.
Seconds later, it came to a stop and Micah emerged from the passenger side wearing his own turnout gear. After saying something to Brady, he continued toward her. “You’ve got ten minutes, Tori.”
Ten minutes for what?
One of the sheriff’s vehicles moved out of the way while Micah hurried around to the passenger side of her SUV and threw himself into the front seat.
“Go!” The intensity in his voice was hard to miss. She’d known Micah since she was a little girl and had never heard him speak with such urgency. That could only mean one thing. This was bad. Really bad.
Myriad emotions threatened to overtake her yet she somehow managed to propel her vehicle down the narrow road, her gaze darting to the ominous cloud of smoke trailing in their direction.
“I’m not messin’ around, Tori. That wildfire is out of control, so no more than ten minutes. Less if the wind picks up. Grab only what you need. And I suggest you know what that is before we get there.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Her words were high-pitched and sharper than she’d intended. “I grew up in that house.”
“What’s irreplaceable?”
“All of it.”
“You can buy more clothes and household items.”
She gulped, her palms growing sweaty as she neared the five acres dotted with pine trees where her sage-green Folk Victorian sat, the front yard surrounded by a white picket fence that matched the house’s trim.
Think, Tori! You can do this. You have to do this.
“Photo albums. Important documents. My mother’s jewelry chest. Both of our wedding rings and countless other items are in it.”
“You grab the jewelry chest,” Micah insisted. “Photo albums still on the shelves in the living room?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get those. What about the documents?”
“They’re in a fireproof box in my bedroom closet.”
“Can you carry it?”
“Yes.” Coming to a stop in front of the house that had been in her family for three generations, she shifted into Park, grabbed her keys and raced out of the vehicle, not bothering to close the door.
The wind caught the skirt of her sundress and the smell of smoke touched her nostrils as she pushed through the gate to charge up the front steps. Her heart had never hammered with such ferocity. Not when she’d gotten word that Joel had been killed in action or when she’d stood on the tarmac waiting for his flag-draped coffin to be carried off the plane.
When she fumbled for her house key, Micah reached for her hand. “Here, let me help you.”
Once inside the living room, she made a quick right into her bedroom. Spotting her flip-flops, she quickly swapped them for the high-heeled sandals she’d worn to church and then snagged up yesterday’s T-shirt and shorts that had been beside them on the floor. Turning, she hastily gathered the carved wooden box inlaid with pearl and her parents’ wedding photo alongside it atop the marble-topped antique dresser. She supposed she’d have to leave her grandmother’s dresser behind.
Grief nearly overwhelmed her as she glanced around the remainder of the space with its queen-size bed and the rocking chair where she’d spent many a sleepless night with an infant Aiden. She’d lost so much already. Her parents, her husband. Surely, God wouldn’t take their home, too.
“Come on, Tori!” Swiveling, she saw Micah making his way out the door, his arms full of photo albums, both old and new.
“Right behind you.” She retrieved the fireproof box from her closet and started to follow him but reversed course and moved through the living space to pause at the opening to her beautiful new kitchen. She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. This couldn’t be happening.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned, noting the triangular-shaped flag case on the mantel. The one that bore the flag they’d given her at Joel’s funeral almost four years ago.
“Tori! Now!” Micah’s emphatic voice as he entered once again jolted her. He took the document box from her. “Let’s go.”
While he started for the door, she rushed to grab the flag case, holding it close as she followed him out the door and to her vehicle where the hatch sat open.
Depositing the items into her SUV, she said, “I want the rocking chair in my bedroom.”
“Sorry, Tori.” Micah eyed the increasingly ominous sky. “We’re out of time.”
“You said ten minutes!”
“Wind’s picking up.” His dark eyes, so like his brother’s and her son’s, bore into hers. “It’s time to go, Tori.”
Sweat trailed down her back as she gazed at the beautiful old house that had been her home for all but a couple of her thirty-six years, feeling much the way she had when she’d kissed Joel goodbye before his final deployment. As though this was the end and her life was about to change dramatically. She could only pray she was wrong.
As sunrise approached the next morning, the smell of smoke still hung in the air. Micah lay in the middle of the road alongside some of his fellow firefighters, his body craving a few minutes of rest. It had been a long time since he’d battled a blaze so intense, not since his days as a firefighting specialist in the marines. Between the wind, parched land and Loblolly pines that had gone up like Roman candles, there’d been little they could do.
Thankfully, volunteer fire departments from across the area had joined them, bringing additional manpower and water trucks. The forest service had flown helicopters over the area, dropping water on the most intense sections. They’d also brought in bulldozers to cut firebreaks through some of the more heavily wooded areas.
Their saving grace had come after sunset, though, when the winds had begun to die down, allowing the crews to finally bring the fire under control. But not before it had burned a couple thousand acres of land, destroying dozens of homes and outbuildings in its path. Including Tori’s house. Incinerated by the intense heat, it was a complete loss.
Now Micah had to break the news to her. And he couldn’t even begin to fathom how that conversation would go. Tori was a strong woman. A Gold Star wife. But everyone had their breaking point. Micah could only pray this wouldn’t be Tori’s. She had a lifetime of memories in that house. Lord willing, those memories would give her the courage to move forward.
Then there was Aiden. Kids were resilient, or so Micah had heard it said. Still, this was bound to impact his nephew in some way, perhaps robbing him of his sense of security. At least he still had his mama. That was what mattered most. Things could be replaced, people could not.
The sound of tires on the pavement had him opening his eyes, only to be blinded by headlights. Squinting, Micah watched as Chief Henesy approached the slow-moving pickup truck.
Moments later, the chief moved to the front of the vehicle and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Coffee and breakfast are ready when you are.”
Micah pushed to his feet. Though people had been dropping off donations of water, sports drinks and food at the command post since yesterday afternoon, he hadn’t had anything substantial since lunch yesterday. And his body was feeling it. He hoped there was some sort of protein to go with that coffee.
Thankfully, the breakfast tacos donated by Plowman’s, the local farm supply store that also boasted a great bakery, were chock-full of eggs, sausage and cheese. And as the sun inched above the horizon, Micah was feeling much more alert.
“Good work last night, Stallings.” The chief clamped a hand on Micah’s shoulder. “I could tell you were in your element, helping out some of the less experienced fellas.”
An element he’d found himself missing more and more over the past year. So much so that he’d recently applied for an instructor position at the TEEX—Texas A&M Engineering Extension Service—Brayton Fire Training Field in College Station. Not that he disliked his job as a high school history teacher, he just didn’t have the same passion for it that he did for firefighting.
“Thank you, sir.” After a decade and a half in the military, Micah was all too familiar with working as a team.
“Sorry we couldn’t save your sister-in-law’s place. Those winds had us feeling downright helpless out there.”
Micah nodded. “It was an act of God, pure and simple. There’s nothing we could’ve done differently.”
The chief eyed him. “Have you told her yet?”
“No.” He stared into the lukewarm coffee remaining in his cup, hoping no one else had either. News traveled fast in a small town. “Some things are best said in person.”
“In that case—” the chief nodded “—there’s a truck headed back to the station. Why don’t you go with them and head on home?”
Micah lifted a brow. “You sure?”
The chief nodded. “Go home and get some rest. We’ll call if we need you.”
Rest was what Micah needed. He’d contacted his principal last night, making him aware of the situation so they could find a substitute to cover his classes today. But before Micah could think about sleeping, he had to break the news to Tori, who’d gone to his mother’s after leaving him yesterday. Aiden already had his own room there and the guest room with its private bath would be suitable for Tori.
“Thank you, sir.” Micah downed the rest of his coffee, recalling the fear in Tori’s cornflower-blue eyes as she’d given her house a final glance before leaving yesterday. He sighed. He hated being the bearer of bad news.
On the ride to the station, he contemplated just how to tell her. Not that it did much good. There was nothing he could say that would lessen the impact of the truth.
When they arrived at the brick building that also housed city hall and the library, he shrugged out of his gear and grabbed a quick shower to wash off the soot, sweat and smoke smell before climbing in his truck to make his way home to the farm.
Nowadays, he supposed calling the eight acres two miles outside Hope Crossing with a three-thousand-square-foot house and pool “a farm” was a bit of a misnomer. But back when he and his brother were growing up, countless animals had roamed the place. With him and Joel both in the FFA—something that’d been almost mandatory in the rural community with many a future farmer—rabbits, goats, sheep and heifers were commonplace. So even though their dad was a project manager turned vice president of a commercial construction firm, they preferred the idea of living on a farm.
After starting the engine, he cranked up the air-conditioning. He expected his mom would insist Tori and Aiden remain at her house for as long as necessary. But being in the same house with Tori and Aiden day in and day out? Well, Micah had better gird himself. Because while they may be the best of friends, too much time together could have his feelings crossing that fine line between friendship and something more, the way they had back in high school. Before his brother, Joel, swept her off her feet. Thankfully, Micah had never told Tori how he felt.
He glanced at the time on the dash. It was after eight. Had Tori and Aiden gone on to school? Tori taught third grade, while Aiden was in kindergarten. Micah sure would hate for Tori to learn about her house from someone else. If she was gone, he’d just have to go on up to the elementary school, because there was no telling how she’d react to the news.
Pulling out of the parking lot, he used the truck’s hands-free to call his mother.
“Micah, we’ve been hoping to hear from you.”
“I guess that means Tori is with you?”
“Yes. She didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Understandable. “And Aiden?”
“I took him on to school. Just got back home. Is the fire out? Are you on your way home?”
“It’s contained, and yes. So there’d better be some coffee waiting for me.”
“Can you tell me anything?” His mother had lowered her voice and he could only assume it was so Tori wouldn’t hear her.
“I’d rather wait until I get home.”
“In that case, we’ll see you soon.”
He pulled into the drive ten minutes later. And as he turned off the vehicle and opened the door, he spotted Tori exiting the kitchen at the back of the house. Wearing a T-shirt and denim shorts, she continued toward him, her flip-flops making that familiar slapping noise with each determined step.
With a deep breath, he placed a booted foot onto the concrete drive and stood. The day had barely started and the sun was already intense. It was going to be another scorcher, all right.
Tori stopped in front of him, and he couldn’t help noticing the dark circles rimming her pretty blue eyes. Not to mention the lines pleating the normally smooth skin on her forehead. The typically fresh-faced quintessential girl next door looked as though she’d been through the wringer. And he hated that he was about to make things worse.
“How bad is it?” Bloodshot eyes met his. Her bottom lip trembled.
He sucked in a breath. “Why don’t we go inside?”
“No!” Fists balled at her sides, she glared at him. “I’ve been waiting all night. I want to know about my house.”
He felt his shoulders sag. “I’m sorry, Tori. It’s a complete loss.”
Wincing, she took a step back. “Complete—” She shook her head. “That can’t be. That...that’s my house. It can’t be—” she brought a shaky hand to her mouth “—gone.” Her face contorted then.
He lunged for her as she crumpled. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the house. For a grown woman, she sure didn’t weigh much.
His mother held the kitchen door open as they approached. “Take her into the living room.”
He veered right, into the dining room, continuing through it to the living room with its cathedral ceiling, stone fireplace and vinyl plank flooring he’d installed last year. Approaching the floral sofa, he found himself torn. Should he lay Tori down or keep holding her? She was his friend, after all. If she was grieving—which she definitely was—he wanted to offer her whatever comfort he could.
Turning, he opted to sit, still holding her in his arms as tears streamed down her cheeks, dampening the front of his T-shirt. Boy, was he glad Aiden was at school. Seeing his poor mama this upset could really do a number on a kid.
“Oh, Tori.” Mom was beside him now. She smoothed a hand over Tori’s blond waves, her silver-blue eyes fixed on him as though looking for answers.
Lips pursed, he simply shook his head.
He had no idea how long the three of them sat there. None of them spoke because there’d been nothing to say. There was no room for platitudes at a time like this. He was certain Tori would hear her fair share of those over the coming days, weeks and months. But he and his mom cared about her too much for that. Sometimes the best thing you could do was to let someone cry.
Like the night of her mother’s funeral when he’d visited Tori to see how she was doing. It still angered him that Joel hadn’t been there for her. Instead of arranging things so he could attend the funeral, his brother had come home two weeks later after the worst of Tori’s grief had begun to ease. His presence had only sent her back into the throes of sorrow. Especially when he’d left five days later. At least, according to their mother.
Now, as Tori began another grieving process, Micah prayed for his friend. Pleaded with God to take away her pain and give her a glimmer of hope. Yet as sobs racked her body, Micah was all too aware it was going to be a long, sorrowful journey. He’d help her however he could.
And if you get the instructor position in College Station?
He would still find a way to be there for her. All the while praying that his heart remained unscathed.
