Sondra settled herself sidesaddle on their “donkey” and wondered where her life had taken the wrong turn that had landed her in this place. It must have been the moment she took the ramp onto Interstate 65, heading north to Indiana. Or well before it, when, during a moment of weakness, she’d agreed to participate in Allison’s harebrained plan.
Who was she kidding? She would have done almost anything for her cousin whom, along with Aunt Mary and Uncle Bruce, she owed for all the normal experiences of her childhood. Every trip to Indiana Beach or Brown County State Park came as a backseat passenger in the Hensleys’ car. She was indebted to them for so much more—for freely given hugs and for little-girl trinkets her single mom couldn’t afford—but working with David Wright was stretching the limits of her gratitude.
The least she could expect was a little appreciation for her dropping everything, crossing a state line and driving past acre after acre of flat, Hoosier farmland to reach Destiny. But David didn’t even give her credit for her trouble. In fact, he seemed to resent her for just being there. What did he plan to do, play Mary and Joseph all by himself? Maybe he could crawl into the manger and play the Baby Jesus while he was at it.
Sondra couldn’t help smiling at the image of big strong David curled up in the hay. Or sporting her costume and pillow belly for that matter.
A disloyal part of her figured it would be a waste for him to hide all his dark wavy hair beneath her heavy head shawl. Even with his hair clipped short on the sides, he couldn’t hide its tendency to curl. If David wore her strange costume, the blue robe would only accentuate his light blue eyes. Translucent eyes that seemed to see everything yet reveal nothing.
Not that she’d noticed or anything. Or if she had noticed, she hadn’t wasted any time dwelling on what she’d seen. Or if she had dwelled just a bit, then she at least was too smart to let a pretty face turn her head.
That the pony chose this moment to whinny and flip its mane, forcing her to tighten her grip on the reins, only annoyed her. David certainly wasn’t harboring any attraction for her; he’d made that clear enough with the way he’d treated her. And from what her cousin had told her about him, he wasn’t especially selective in choosing his many dating partners. What did it say about her that the skin on her arms tingled just because of David’s nearness as he stood next to the pony? She wasn’t that desperate for dates. Maybe long-term relationships weren’t her thing, but she’d had her share of dinners and movies.
Again, Stella whinnied and stomped her foot.
David glanced over and frowned. “You’re not going to lose control, are you? We don’t need you galloping into Bethlehem tonight like a bad cowboy wanna-be.”
Sondra narrowed her gaze at him and patted the pony’s neck. She crooned to the horse instead of speaking to him. “Don’t you listen to that old grouch, Stella. You and I know you’ll pull this off like an old pro.”
She looked at David. “I’m from Louisville, remember? I know how to sit a horse.” Okay, she hadn’t ridden more than a half-dozen times in her life, but she could ride, and that was all he needed to know.
“Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want the show to turn into a media event like last year.” His smile was smug enough to make her fist her fingers over the reins. The teeth he flashed were straight and white, a fact that only annoyed her further. How could she find a man like him attractive?
“There won’t be a problem from me, but I can’t speak for anyone else.” She raised both eyebrows.
He only kept smiling and continued his habit of grating on her nerves. For someone she’d known less than a half hour, he sure was a quick study at it.
Why did she let him get to her? And why couldn’t she resist baiting him in return? She could answer those questions no more than she could figure out why she was so determined to prove herself to him. On her own turf at the office, she no longer had to prove anything to anyone. No one could match her sixty-hour workweeks and the sacrifice of her already limited social life. Now her dream job was within her grasp—human resources director—if only she continued to keep up the pace.
“That’s our cue,” David told her as the last strains of “O Holy Night” filtered through the sound system. “We might as well get this over with.”
He had that right. She needed only to get through this one day and she would fulfill her promise to Allison. Then she would sprint to her car and be across the Indiana-Kentucky border before the first snowflakes fell.
Still, her annoying co-star was just one of the reasons that she wanted her immediate destiny to be far away from Destiny. Just as she remembered from her childhood visits, Destiny seemed to close in around her, trapping her in its suffocating neighborliness.
Give her a big city any day. She’d been gone from Louisville less than a day, and yet she longed for her impersonal apartment in its impersonal complex in an impersonal area just outside the city. At least she figured missing home was what had caused the dull ache inside her as she’d passed by some of Center Street’s tiny, holiday-decorated homes. People inside them were probably peeking out their shades as she drove by, picking her out for the stranger she was.
How people could survive in such a small town where everyone knew each other’s business, she couldn’t imagine. Two-bit towns like this one were where some women ended up when they gave up their dreams for a man. Others just became lonely, bitter women like her mother. She would never repeat her mother’s mistakes.
Because the only way out of Destiny was to get this rehearsal and the final performance over with, Sondra reluctantly handed David her pony’s reins and let him lead her onto the set. Letting a guy lead her anywhere, now that was a first—and last if she had anything to say about it. At least this was only theater.
“This is the life, isn’t it?” David said softly as they neared the stable. “Just a man taking care of his little family.”
Sondra had to grip the saddle horn to keep from hopping down and tackling him. Worse than his guessing she would be uncomfortable letting a man take her horse’s reins, David seemed to enjoy her discomfort.
“It took a special man to be the adoptive father of Jesus,” she whispered back. “Most men couldn’t have handled the job.”
She couldn’t resist stressing the words “most men” or including him in that category, because David Wright was a jerk with a capital “J.” If she did an Internet search for the word “jerk,” his picture and resume would probably appear as top match. She couldn’t believe Allison had offered last year to set her up with him. Didn’t her cousin like her at all?
Well, she refused to let him bother her any longer. She wouldn’t let his rudeness get to her, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be affected by his good looks. She’d promised Allison, and that’s all there was too it. She wasn’t like her father; she kept her commitments. Unlike him, she didn’t escape in a big rig when the times got tough, leaving the people he allegedly loved in a cloud of diesel exhaust.
No, she wasn’t leaving, so David could just forget about pushing her buttons. She would get through this night if it killed her. Or him. Or maybe the both of them.
David yanked the poufy hat off his head and rubbed his frozen ears as he trudged over to his car. If his ears were frostbitten and were amputated, would he still be able to hear cases from the bench? Chances were he’d still be able to hear claims from the prosecution and pleas from the defense, but he would sure look funny doing it.
Settling behind the wheel of Reba, his seasoned sedan with rust-pattern detailing, he turned the key and blasted the heat. Usually he would have taken time to appreciate how the old gal’s engine whined and then purred, but then he wasn’t usually so rankled with himself.
At the thump of something beating the window, he jerked his head. Martin stood in the wind yelling something outside the glass. If only David had not given Reba a chance to warm up and had driven right off the lot, he could have avoided facing anyone from the cast, but now he was stuck. He cranked open the window.
Martin reached in to pat David’s shoulder with his gloved hand. “Well done, young man. Everyone felt the true meaning of Christmas right down to their toes.”
“They probably couldn’t feel their toes. I know I can’t.”
Martin demonstrated his full-belly laugh again and nodded. “Okay, maybe a few had frostbitten toes. But if they were watching and listening at all, they also got hearts shock full of praise tonight. You and Sondra did a great job, particularly under such short notice.”
David lifted a shoulder and let it fall.
The side of Martin’s mouth came up. “That’s exactly what Sondra did when I said it to her.”
Martin glanced out at the nearly empty field they’d used as a parking lot. “She’s probably close to Indianapolis as quickly as she left after the show. Can’t say as I blame her. She had a long drive back to Louisville. But it’s too bad she couldn’t spend the holidays with her cousin.”
“That is too bad,” David conceded.
Allison probably would have liked that since she no longer had any extended family around. It would have been special to her since it was the first Christmas for Allison and Brock since they’d married and Joy’s adoption had become final. Since they’d become a real family. But he’d heard Sondra himself—nothing could have kept her in town.
“Anyway, I’m sure Allison is proud of you, David. You really came through for her.”
David swallowed hard, somehow still managing to nod before the Wise Man left to return to his banker’s life. If David’s actions could be called coming through for Allison, then he wondered to what extremes he would have to go to fail her.
Though the performance had been nearly flawless—if less exciting than last year’s chaos—he couldn’t take credit for it. He’d done as much to sabotage the show as any of the other performers had done to make it work.
None of the cast or the audience had frozen to death, the livestock hadn’t bit anyone or stampeded, and the sound system had managed not to pick up signals from local baby monitors. Best of all, though, the child in the manger stayed plastic and kept quiet during the whole performance.
Despite him, rather because of him, the show had been serene and worshipful. It spoke to everyone there. For a few seconds, it had even affected him, and nothing spiritual had touched him in years. The event had reminded him of his childhood, when all of this—the star, the shepherds, the manger and its heralded occupant—had really meant something.
Fortunately, only the animals had been close enough to see the dramatic subplot that had unfolded right on stage. From up close, audience members would have recognized that the character Mary never met her husband’s gaze during the whole performance, and though her shoulders were curved in submission and praise, her hands were fisted.
David knew because he kept looking over at her, hoping to catch her eye and whisper an apology. She didn’t give him the chance. Not that he’d deserved one. He’d tested her patience all afternoon.
But she’d pushed him, too. Every word out of her mouth hinted that she didn’t think he was good enough for her, whether she came right out and said it or not. He should have been pleased that she was every bit as disinterested in him as he was in her and yet he’d found her aloofness unsettling.
None of that mattered. He still doubted Allison would be proud of him for any of this. Ashamed—that was a better word. He was ashamed enough for the both of them. He sure hadn’t gained any votes by his behavior tonight.
First thing in the morning, he would call Allison to apologize. He would even offer to write a letter to Sondra and apologize to her, too. If he were fortunate, when he threw himself on her mercy, Allison would volunteer to tell Sondra how sorry he was.
He had it in his favor that his best friend was always gracious in accepting apologies. He’d been on the receiving end of her forgiveness enough to know. But this time he probably would have to count on the fact that it would be Christmas Eve when he faced her. He knew, at least he hoped, that no one could stay angry over Christmas.