Gail Martin - With Christmas in His Heart

Christine recalled thinking that same thing earlier that day, and she wondered if the Lord was pounding a lesson into her head. “I know, Grandma, but—”

“No buts. We had a project one year at the Bible camp. We visited a hospital to bring little gifts we made to some of the elderly patients. I saw a woman there unable to use her limbs. At the time I didn’t know anything about strokes, but I’m sure that’s what it was. She couldn’t speak well, either. That very day I promised the Lord I would always be kind to people in need. So being useless myself makes it doubly hard because of the promise I made to God.”

How could she argue with her grandmother’s way of looking at her vow. Christine figured God was the one who had allowed her grandmother to have a stroke. He knew she couldn’t continue to be helpful, so He’d have to forgive her breaking her vow. But she couldn’t verbalize that to her grandmother.

“Then, I think, it’s most important that you get better. Right, Grandma?”

“Right,” she said, a gentle look in her eyes. “And that’s why I want to go to church.”

“Then you and I will go to church,” Christine said.

“You and me and Will.”

Christine managed to smile. “You and me and Will.”

“There, that wasn’t so bad.” Will stomped the snow from his shoes on the porch mat. Today when he’d awakened, he was surprised to see a heavy snow had fallen while he’d slept, leaving the island shrouded in white.

He wheeled Grandma Ella through the front door to the middle of the foyer. “Let me take your coat.”

“I can get her coat,” Christine said, bustling toward him.

He shrugged. “It’s all yours.” He tried to figure out the big deal. Either one of them could help her. It wasn’t like a jump ball in a basketball game.

Christine hung her grandmother’s coat in the foyer closet, then hung up her own and closed the door without a glance his way.

Will shook his head and passed her, removed his wet shoes and left them by the living room archway, not wanting to dirty Ella’s carpet. He headed across the carpet, shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a chair, then settled on the sofa.

Yesterday’s newspaper lay on the floor. Will lifted it to his lap and swung his feet around to spread out on the cushions. Though he tried to focus on the first page, his attention had shifted over the top of the paper toward the foyer.

Christine came through the doorway pushing Ella’s wheelchair. He really wished Grandma Ella would get out of the thing. She needed to get her legs working and strengthen the muscles. That would alleviate her unsteadiness. He’d encouraged her to use the walker, but she said she felt like an old lady.

Christine turned his way, and her expression let him know she wasn’t pleased to see him sprawling on the sofa.

Will dropped the paper onto the floor and swung his feet to the carpet. “Sorry. Usually on Sundays, I keep Grandma Ella company for a while. Am I taking up too much space?”

A pink tinge lit Christine’s cheeks. “No.” She sank onto the chair with a sigh. “Not at all.”

“What’s wrong, dear?” her grandmother asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look unhappy.”

“Really. I’m fine.”

A look of uneasiness filled her face, and she gave Will a smile that looked a little forced to him.

She studied her fingernails for a moment. “I need to go into town. I should have thought of it while we were there for church. I noticed at breakfast we need a few things from the grocery store.”

Will glanced at his watch. “It’s Sunday. The store’s just about to open. I’ll take you,” he said. “I need to drop by the studio anyway and pick up some paperwork I forgot to bring home.”

“You have a tandem bike, or am I supposed to ride with you on the horse?” As the words left her, she concocted another grin.

The look on her face made him laugh. “No, but that’s a good idea. Daisy would love to go for a good run this morning. She leaves for the mainland tomorrow.”

Christine looked surprised “Leaves?”

He loved to confound her. “Once the heavy snow begins, Daisy is stabled at a farm on the mainland. Only the horses used for taxis and drays stick around here for the winter.”

Christine gave him a look. “The horses are smarter than people, I think.”

He chuckled, but he got her point. He jumped up and headed for the doorway. “We’ll take my sled…or you can ride your grandmother’s.”

“Sled?”

He laughed aloud this time. “Snowmobile.”

“You want me to drive myself? I don’t know a thing about snowmobiles.”

“One day I’ll give you a lesson then.”

“Yes,” Grandma Ella said, “that’s a good idea.”

Christine held up her hand in protest. “I’m leaving next week. Save the lesson for my mom.” She chuckled.

Will enjoyed her unexpected good humor and wished he could always see that side. “You can ride with me. I’d like you to see my studio anyway.”

“You’ll enjoy seeing the shop,” her grandmother agreed.

She paused a moment, then said, “Okay.”

Will glanced back to make sure he had heard her correctly. No argument?

“Who can I call to stay with you, Grandma Summers?” Christine asked.

Her grandmother waved her away. “I’m not a baby. I can stay by myself for an hour. Put the portable phone next to me, and set my walker here. I’ll use it if I need to get up.”

“We won’t be gone long,” Will assured Christine, then turned to Grandma Ella, “and we can check on you, okay?”

“I’ll be fine. You can’t tie an old horse down for long.”

Christine chuckled. “If you were a horse, Will would be shipping you over to St. Ignace.”

Will gave her a high five, and to his amazement, she responded and took a step backward toward the foyer.

“I’ll change and make a list,” she said.

“Keep it short,” Will said. “We go to the mainland for the bulk of the groceries.”

Christine stopped and motioned toward the window. “But what about when—”

“No ferry service? Then supplies are flown in.” He enjoyed teaching this strong-willed woman about island life.

She arched a neatly trimmed brow. “As I said, island living isn’t very convenient, is it?”

“No, but then if you’re looking for convenience you don’t live on an island.”

Christine gave him a see-I-told-you-so look.

Will didn’t bother to comment. “I’ll change and be ready in a minute. And remember, we’re not going back if you forget anything.”

She looked as if she wanted to say something but didn’t.

Christine stood outside the small barn, eyeing Will’s snowmobile and trying to imagine herself seated on it. She’d surprised herself by agreeing to ride the thing, but she needed to get around, and walking down and up hills to town in snow appealed to her even less than riding with Will.

She felt like the Abominable Snowman, with a sweatshirt and down jacket over her sweater. She could barely move. With two pairs of socks under the tall boots she had borrowed from her grandmother—already a little tight—she tromped through the snow like Frosty on a bad day.

“Are you warm enough?” Will asked.

“I hope so.” She could only deduce that his silly expression was lighthearted sarcasm. She shifted her attention to the snowmobile. “You want me to get on this thing?”

Will lifted his hand. “Hang on a minute.” He walked back into the stable and came out carrying two helmets. “You’re not going anywhere without this.”

He tossed her one, and she nearly dropped it. “I’m supposed to wear this?”

“You’re not only supposed to—you will. It’s for your safety. No one gets on my sled without one.”

Sled? She pictured the little red sled from her childhood, then eyed the monstrosity he was telling her to get on. She gazed at the helmet and then at him. How much danger was she in?

“Put it on,” he said, slipping some kind of hood over his head.

“What’s that?”

“A smock. You’ll have to get one.” He slid the helmet onto his head and attached the strap.

She followed what he’d done, attached the strap and felt as if she had a cooking pot on her head with a large shield over her face. “I look stupid.”

“You don’t look stupid,” he said, accentuating the word “look.”

“I hear a but in that statement.”

“I’m not going there,” he said, a teasing smile growing on his face.

Will looked amazingly handsome, his broad shoulders accentuated beneath his sledding jacket. Below the helmet, his eyes sparkled when he looked at her. “Okay, Bigfoot, can you climb on?”

He made her laugh. She liked that but not his I-know-more-about-island-life-than-you-do attitude. Earlier she’d tried to cover her amusement with sarcasm, but lately he had a cute way to get back at her. She felt like a kid again, rather than the dignified woman she’d considered herself to be.

She’d studied Will, weighing his boyish charm and easy manner, and had pondered how old he might be. She’d wanted to know, but she knew good manners, and one couldn’t blatantly ask. She’d be irked if he asked her.

Christine straddled the vehicle as best she could, then plopped onto the seat, scooting back as far as she could to make room for him. She felt her cell phone press against her leg. She’d tucked it in her pocket.

He waited for her to get settled, then slipped in front of her. “I made it. You’re not as fat as you look.”

She gave him a jab. “I feel undignified enough. Don’t add to it.”

“Dignity is nothing without a sense of humor.”

“I don’t mind laughing with someone, but I don’t want to be laughed at by someone,” she said.

“Then next time, you’ll have to leave about half that garb at home.” He grinned. “You need a bib.”

“A bib? I’m not eating lobster.”

“Snow pants, to you,” he said, chuckling. “You’ll get used to it, and if I were a betting man, I’d wager you’ll get to love the island even in winter.”

“You’re on,” she said. “If I love it here, I owe you something big. A seven-course dinner or—” She faltered, realizing she was having a good time.

“I’ll make that decision when I collect,” he said with a wink over his shoulder. “Now keep your feet on the foot board.” He pulled the cord and started the engine. He revved the motor to warm it, sending another grin with each vroom-vroom sound. “Ready?”

“Absolutely,” she said, then jolted backward when the sled shot forward. She let out a squeal and clung to him, her arms wrapped around his waist, praying her feet were glued to the footrest.

He paused at the end of the driveway. “Lean with me on the turns,” he called over his shoulder.

She nodded, and he rolled forward, then made a right toward Custer Road.

Above the roar of the engine, he hollered back his usual witty comments, his youthful spirit evident as they soared across the snow. Youthful, yet he had depth, too, Christine had noticed. She saw the heavy thoughts in his eyes. She watched the tenderness he had for her grandmother, and Christine couldn’t help but notice how he studied her. She didn’t think he’d figured her out yet, but he would.

The wind whipped past, and Christine clung to Will’s body for warmth and security. A chill rolled down her back despite her heavy clothing, or wasn’t it the wind at all? She’d never done anything quite so daring, and perhaps it was only the adventure that took her breath away and sent excitement prickling up her spine.