“WHEN YOU BLUESTONE RIVER folks put your minds to it, you can draw big crowds,” Parker said, pointing at the long line of cars and trucks flanking the farm road for as far as he could see.
“I might have known this many people would show up for the rebirth of Christmas caroling. If I’d anticipated these numbers, I’d have suggested we get here earlier.” Standing next to his truck, Emma lifted her cane and then firmly planted the tip in the snow. “Nothing to do but forge on.”
“Are you sure?” Parker’s attempt to keep his voice neutral wasn’t entirely successful. With the toe of his boot, he poked at the fresh snow in front of them, relieved it was only about three inches deep. They could walk in the tire tracks, which would be firmer for Emma underfoot.
Emma looked mildly concerned, but her voice was strong when she said, “Let’s go.”
Off in the distance Parker heard the opening lines of “Joy to the World.” The music grew louder as more voices in the crowd joined in.
“Sounds like the high school kids are the opening act,” Emma said. “They started right on time.”
“Do you want to get there faster?” Parker asked.
“Sure, I do. Maybe you could arrange an airlift to the bridge.”
“No need to be sarcastic,” he said wryly, putting his arm around her. “Are you up for a little adventure?”
“Al…ways.” By the time she was done drawing out the word, it might have been a sultry summer night.
“Good. Then you gotta trust me. Adventure about to launch…here goes.” He bent his knees and scooped Emma into his arms. She grasped the puffy fabric of his jacket and slid her arms around his neck. “Hang on tight.” She was light in his arms as he started down the road. His scheme might work after all.
Listening to her melodic laugh triggered the surge of adrenaline that made carrying her through the snow seem like a genius idea. One of his best ever.
Emma kept up her sultry tone. “Why, sir, you swept me right off my feet.”
“I think you’re close to a bad case of the giggles. But no humor allowed, m’lady. I won’t be able to carry you and laugh at the same time.”
“Got it,” she whispered, glancing up at the sky and moving her head in time to the final bars of “Joy to the World.”
“Do you know you’re stepping to the beat of the song?”
She hummed along with the tune, not entirely on key, and sure enough his steps matched the rhythm. “I know it now that you’ve pointed it out,” he said.
Emma sighed. “Wow, what a beautiful night.”
“And it’s just starting,” he replied, keeping his voice low and full of promise.
The singing stopped, but it was only a few seconds before Emma began humming along with “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” Another carol she claimed was her favorite.
“Ooh, the crowd is louder on this one,” she said. “They must be warming up.”
“There it is,” he said, as the corner of the bridge came into view. He turned so Emma could get a glimpse of strings of lights spread across the opening arch and outlining the slanted roof. Other lights covered the side.
“The fairy lights are so pretty,” she said as if in awe of the sight. “This is so, so special.” Their contented silence was burst when she suddenly said, “I must be heavy. I could walk the rest of the way, you know.”
He was still enjoying having her in his arms. That alone was enough for him to keep going. “I’ll carry you to the edge of the crowd.”
She let out a happy sigh. “I’ve never seen the park and the bridge this beautiful. Everything lit up and all these people. Even the usual summer weddings aren’t this big.”
Parker didn’t know the names of most of the people he saw, but many faces looked familiar. He must have seen them around town or at the sanctuary. He also spotted people he thought of as friends now, like Georgia and Maggie and their families.
“Here we are,” Parker said, gently lowering her to the ground, but holding her elbow until he was sure she was steady on her feet.
“Thanks. What a great idea.” Emma slipped her hand through his arm and they walked up to where tables had been set up with town brochures and compiled song sheets of common Christmas carols. “Ah, they’re singing another one of my Christmas favorites, ‘Little Drummer Boy.’” She closed her eyes and began singing along.
“They’re all your favorites,” Parker teased. Looking around him, it struck him that he hadn’t seen anything quite like the scene in front of him. Not just the decorated bridge, but also the lights circling the trees in the park and the spotlights surrounding a low stage set up at the back of the playground. One of the music teachers led the chorus of about twenty teenagers. There were some chairs in a row, mostly filled by older people.
“I may have needed a free ride, but I don’t need a chair,” Emma said, reassuring him. “I saw you looking at them lined over there.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t have suggested it.” He drew back. “And have you get all huffy with me? Not a chance.”
She squeezed his arm. “Aw, you know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Look,” Parker said, pointing with his chin to Jim and Ruth sitting in chairs.
“After all that happened, I bet you’re glad to see them. You’re the one person in town who could bring out the good side of him.” When the music in the background changed to a Christmas pop song, Emma said, “Oh, I love this one.”
He grinned at her. “I think there’s a rule that you can have only one favorite.”
“Who would write such a rule?”
“What Child is This?” happened to be a Christmas carol Parker knew well. He used to sing it with Nic when it came up on an old CD of Christmas carols she played over and over when she was little. It brought on nostalgia as he sang, but here with Emma was where he wanted to be. Christmas Eve was only four days away. And a long quiet winter was ahead. He couldn’t wait for Emma to open her Christmas present. He’d gone back to the gallery in Clayton and got her one of Guy Hammond’s carved jewelry boxes, one with mostly hummingbirds.
“You have a nice voice,” Emma said. “Not just like a radio announcer, but you can sing, too.”
That was true, at least he could carry a tune. “I used to play guitar—sort of—and sing with a bunch of kids in high school. An old-style garage band. We were an odd assortment but we picked up gigs now and then. It was fun while it lasted—a couple of years.”
“Okay, I’m officially impressed. I mean, healing birds is great as far as it goes, but playing in a band?” In a voice full of enthusiasm, she added, “Now, that’s cool.”
“Hey, it got me dates,” he joked. Specifically, it got him dates with Jackie, but he didn’t need to say so.
When the music stopped, the music teacher, serving as emcee, went through a list of people to thank for making the event so successful. Before she stopped speaking, Emma nudged him and pointed to an area behind a couple of family groups in front of them. “Come on, we can get a better view over there.” She pointed to a flatter spot on the edge of the crowd.
They moved the few yards, where it was easier to stand. And dimmer, Parker thought, with fewer people around them. The music teacher ended her talk and began leading little kids in the crowd in a kind of off-key “Jingle Bells,” but no one cared. Conscious of Emma standing so close, Parker had a hard time paying attention.
“I always wished I’d had a halfway decent singing voice,” Emma said.
“Who says you don’t?”
She rolled her eyes. “No one has to.”
She had him there. “Who cares? You have lots of other talents.”
“Good evasion.”
“No evasion.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You’re smart and curious. And funny.” He kissed her again. “Being beautiful doesn’t hurt.”
Emma let her head drop against his chest.
“Dance with me,” he whispered in her ear. “You like to dance. You’re good at it, too. You can’t deny it. I happen to know a certain lawyer who has proof. On video.”
She tilted her head back and held his gaze. “I don’t know, Parker. I haven’t… I’ve put that behind me now.”
He put his arm around her waist. “I see the way you move. You’re graceful, like the dancer you are. Besides, you walk everywhere, don’t you? No reason you can’t do it to music.”
She didn’t say no.
He picked up her hand hidden in thick, fleece-lined gloves. “There must be real fingers in here.” His hands were just as protected. He gently drew her as close as their puffy down jackets would allow. “I’ve got you, Emma. I won’t let you fall.”
The crowd was singing the first bars of “White Christmas.” Parker smiled. “Hear that? They’re playing your favorite song.”
Emma put her arm around his shoulder, keeping the cane in her grasp behind his back. Parker took small steps at first, making a slow circle on the even ground and swaying to the slow rhythm. Parker softly sang the words, and with every step she relaxed a little more in his arms, trusting him, but mostly trusting herself.
He held on to her when the music stopped. “Let’s see what comes next.”
“Wait one second.” Emma kept her right hand in his, but she stepped back and with her left hand, she tossed her cane into the snow. “I don’t need it right now.” She gave him a shy smile.
“Looks that way.” He admitted to feeling a little smug, but this was one hunch he was glad he’d followed.
They stayed in the same flat spot and danced and swayed through the next two songs. The crowd got louder and the voices stronger, especially with “The Christmas Song,” when everyone sang the familiar words about chestnuts and Jack Frost. He kept his arm around Emma when the music switched back to carols. He scanned the crowd and saw Mike and Ruby with Jason waving at them. When he and Emma waved back, Mike took a couple of steps in their direction, but Ruby touched his arm and stopped him. Good. Thanks, Ruby.
Later, Mike briefly took the mic only long enough to thank everyone for coming, and then the night closed with “Silent Night.” The chorus sang in perfect harmony, and the crowd found its one voice to match it. He looked into Emma’s eyes, glistening as the volume dropped lower and lower until the song came to an end. When the last bar closed, no one moved. Seconds passed in silence. Emma rested her head on his shoulder. Then, as if someone sent a signal, the din of conversation and laughter broke the hush that had settled over the gathering.
“Did you want to go say hello to Ruby and Mike?” he asked only because he thought he should.
“No, not now. I like being back here by ourselves.”
He took in a deep breath and studied his surroundings. Next Christmas, the crowd would expand even more. Next winter. He’d included himself—with Emma—in that picture of a future night of caroling at the bridge.
He eyed the farm road, where a few dozen people were heading toward their cars. Within minutes, engines turned over and headlights came on and the atmosphere changed.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. We have a new owl in our treatment cabin.”
“Really? I hope it’s not too badly hurt.”
“Lots of cuts and gashes, but he’ll be fine. He’s a screech owl. They’re on the small side,” Parker explained. “A farmer brought him in. His kids saw the owl tangled up in broken fencing.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when they brought the bird in.”
“Oh, there will be plenty to do. I even had to bandage his feet,” Parker said. “I told the farmer he should bring the kids before Christmas. He was a little afraid to let them come along when he delivered the bird.”
“He was afraid it might die while you were taking a look?” Emma asked.
“More or less. Or even before he got to us. But those kids will feel so much better when they visit him on his perch.” He smiled.
Emma snuggled up to Parker. “I’ll see him tomorrow. I’m excited about it already.”
“I thought you might be.”
Emma nodded toward the line of people still leaving the bridge. “I don’t mind being stragglers, but I’m ready to go when you are.” She pivoted toward the edge of the woods where her cane had landed.
“I’ll get it.” He hurried to retrieve it and handed it to her. Then he held out his arms. “At your service.”
She lifted her arms, and he picked her up. She leaned in and touched his cheek before tightening her arm around his back. When she kissed him, her lips were surprisingly warm and when she broke the kiss it was only for a second or two. Like him, she wanted another and another after that. Finally, she nuzzled against his shoulders and he started walking. “Keep hanging on tight,” he whispered.
She lifted her head and lightly tapped his mouth with her index finger. “I have no intention of letting go.”
* * *
“IT’S GETTING LATE,” Emma said, taking a sip of wine, “but I don’t care if you don’t.”
She’d expected Parker to take her up on her invitation to come in for a drink. Now they sat side by side on her couch and chatted about what a great evening they’d had. As if that was all there was to it.
“I’ve made some decisions,” Parker said, shifting to face her. He smoothed the back of his fingers across her chin and through her hair. She closed her eyes, lost in his light touch, the sound of his breathing and the catch in her throat.
“Uh, do you want to hear them?”
She caught his hand in hers. “Okay, now I can concentrate.”
“This pretty little town has grown on me, you know? It’s grown on Nic, too.”
“You mean Jackie’s done hinting about great jobs for you in Vermont?” She’d had stomach flutters when he’d mentioned his ex-wife’s texts complete with links to job postings.
“That’s behind me now.” Parker shook his head. “With any luck, she’s finally finished with her antics that only confuse Nic.” He blew out a breath of air in frustration. “Nic has been anxious lately, and I blame it on Jackie’s mind games.”
“I’m glad you settled it.”
He caressed her cheek. “It means I can focus on other things.”
Like her. She hoped she showed up in his thoughts as much as he visited hers.
She playfully tilted her head. “Tell me about these other things.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her palm and pressed it against his cheek. “I wake up thinking about you. You’re in my mind when I go down to the pier and watch the sky light up in the morning. Then I wait for you to show up at the sanctuary to see how our patients are doing. I like watching you with the birds—I know there haven’t been many—”
“Yet.” She smiled sheepishly. “Oops, sorry I interrupted.”
“But you’re right—I like your optimism.” He laced his fingers with hers. “Mostly, I think about how I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He raised his hand as if to ward off an objection, but he needn’t have bothered. She had none.
“We haven’t known each other that long, but…I like what I know.”
She scooted closer to him. “Are you going to say something, Emma?” He paused.
She had so much she wanted to tell him. So many questions about him she wanted to ask. But not now. Emma let out a low chuckle as she ran her index finger over his lips. “Will a simple ‘ditto’ do?”
“I know it’s early—probably too early—to say this, Emma, but I’m thinking this is for keeps.”
“Funny how we think alike sometimes.”
Parker’s smile was sweet and she saw genuine affection in his eyes. “I’m getting used to it.”
Emma relaxed into his arms and watched the fire, not wanting the night to end but knowing it had to.
As if reading his mind he released her and they stood. “See you tomorrow, early, I hope.”
She stared into his eyes, such a deep blue in the dim light. The only sound was a log crackling in the fireplace. “You bet you will.”
“So, for now,” he whispered before lowering his head for a long kiss goodbye.
He was halfway out the door when she said, “Parker, thanks for convincing me I can dance again.”
He stepped closer and kissed her cheek. “Be prepared for more of that.”
She closed the door and leaned against it. He loved her and she loved him back. For keeps.