9

Only a week now until Christmas, and Hayley couldn’t be more pleased over Auntie’s Antiquities’ lucrative business. She wished she could smell the cinnamon pine cones piled high in a blue speckled washbowl replica, a gift from Blythe. Kameron had told her the powerful aroma was too strong so she’d brought down the few she’d put in her kitchen.

With so many items leaving the shop, her online purchasing list for January grew longer by the day. So far her computer searches only involved vintage jewelry‒her double locket and Kameron’s fob chain. She’d viewed umpteen interlocking heart and clasp combinations until she had to have seen a picture of every piece owned by anyone with a camera and Internet access.

Quit daydreaming.

Kameron asked if she’d like to drive around looking at Christmas lights. A date. One of the most popular displays was on a country road a couple miles west of Edgewood. The whole Manley family, including a dozen grandchildren, annually unloaded and set up the show over a weekend in mid-November.

Hayley covered the glass server on today’s dark chocolate mint fudge. In between customers she once again pulled up jewelry. As far as she could determine by collectors she’d sold to, vintage by today’s standard started around 1940, but she searched for older pieces. She had yet to find a double heart locket and had seen plenty of woven leaves, flowers, curlicues, and birds from owls to peacocks.

Moments later she shut down the computer, decision made. She’d visit Pastor Gregg. Show him her necklace. Come right out and ask what he knew about both pieces of jewelry.

The day passed in alternating bursts of busyness and quiet contemplation. Finally, time to get ready for Kameron. Hayley waved at Bette Jean through the window as she turned from securing the garage. She’d asked them to come to supper again, this time with Pastor Gregg, two nights from now.

Hayley ran upstairs to shower and change. She’d have to hurry, since she had no idea what to wear. She tried on four sweaters, changed her boots twice, and then blew a relieved breath just as he knocked.

Instead of his usual casual shirts, a couple he’d even tossed on backward, he wore a Christmas red sweater over a button-down, baby blue shirt.

“Wish I could smell the leather. Your jacket is the color of cocoa.”

He blushed.

She sucked in her cheeks to prevent a smile.

“You always smell good. I like leather, too, but it doesn’t smell as good as you. I bought the jacket after I contracted my first series.”

“It’s good to reward ourselves.” She adjusted her necklace as she leaned against the counter.

Kameron met her gaze briefly, and patted her arm the way he’d pet one of the dogs.

She reached out to cover his hand. It took a couple seconds, but he turned his over to clasp hers. His touch wormed awareness throughout her system. Her mind turned to mush. “Thanks for asking me out tonight. I love the Christmas season. We celebrate Jesus coming to earth.” To die for our sins.

Kameron’s hand clenched to squeeze hers, not quite to the point of hurting, as though he’d read her thoughts. What was he waiting for?

He met her gaze.

“Now that I have your attention, how’s the story going?”

He gulped, cleared his throat. “Sorry. It’s not bad manners. I sometimes just get lost in my head while looking at you. The story. Great. As soon as my agent approved the first draft, I started revising.”

“She likes it?”

“Yeah. Especially that I incorporated a girl into the woods. My other stories are about how boys survive.” He blushed again. What would his handsome face look like if he smiled?

“That’s good. Have you ever driven by the Manley place?”

“The what?”

“Christmas light show, between here and Lincoln. Where we’re headed.”

“No. I don’t pay much attention. Except to those huge blow-up things that look out of place.” He released her hand. “You’re my guide tonight. Is that place in the country the first on your list?”

“Silly. You can plot books but not a night driving around.”

He blushed again. Too cute.

“Lighten up. I’m such a planner I have a list of the top five houses, in order. I’m ready if you are. I just need to grab my coat.” Hayley grinned.

He shifted weight from one foot to the other, helped her with her coat sleeves, and they headed out the door.

A quarter mile up the dirt road Kameron came to a complete stop.

Taillights lined the right side of the road, dimmed headlights faced them as far as she could see. She strained for a glimpse of the light show. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend the evening alone.”

“No problem.” Kam moved at a crawl with the traffic. “A writer is supposed to be open to new adventure.”

So this isn’t a date? “Looking at Christmas lights is a new adventure?”

He only shrugged, kept his eyes on the car ahead.

“It says to dial in a particular radio station. May I?”

“Have at it.”

She tuned in. A catchy, modern rock Christmas tune filled the air. Suddenly the car in front took off, and a kaleidoscope of lights and lawn settings came into view.

“Oh. I could sit here for fifteen minutes and not see everything.” Where to look first?

Some worded signs held a steady glow. “Go Big Red” inside a giant football, and a “Happy 150 years, Nebraska” inside the state’s shape. Several pine trees were so covered in lights they glowed like fire. Colors blinked, silver strobed to the beat of numerous tunes from familiar carols, to modern rock and roll.

She tracked from left to right, up and down, knowing she’d never remember specifics. Sensory overload.

Kameron crawled along as Hayley attempted to take it all in. Reindeer glided Santa and his sleigh above the house roof. A cartoon dog danced atop another building. The lawn held scenes from movies as well as biblical characters. Lights in choreographed sections and rows of synchronized colored lights kept in time with the instrumentation blasting all around them.

The last display she noted was a huge cross next to a manger raised to rest on a wagon. “I heard somewhere that Jesus came with the cross in His heart.”

At that instant, Kameron hit the gas.

Just past the city limits sign she’d had enough of his silence. “Does your apartment seem extra quiet after spending time with Gregg’s energetic dogs?”

“I’m used to the quiet. Where to next?”

She directed him to various decorated homes around the city. None compared to the extravaganza they’d witnessed in the country.

Kameron bit out a few responses. She eventually gave up on engaging him in conversation. Her comment about the cross and Christ had done it. Though sick at heart over his lack of belief, she refused to let him take away her joy while celebrating Christmas.

Some date.



Some date.

Kameron slammed into his place and tossed his keys on the counter. Emotions all over the place, he backpedaled to flip the deadbolt. He’d looked forward to their evening together and expected another mind-blowing kiss. Hayley ruined his mood by carrying on about that Bible stuff.

He braced against the counter and hung his head. He felt as young and lost as the kids he wrote about. What a joke. He had no business writing about inexperienced adolescent feelings. He had no idea how to handle the way he felt for Hayley. She had his guts twisted into knots. The whole world was bright and sunny to her because her reality was all wrapped up in Jesus.

Would her Jesus keep her from laughing at him if Kameron tried to express himself?

His reality was he’d been tossed out. The proverbial baby with the bath water. Why should he feel good about anything?

This jumble going through his head got him nowhere. He straightened, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and opened his laptop. The strobe-effect of the racing lights they’d seen in the country reminded him of a carnival with its midway rides, noise, and confusion. It’d be a perfect setting, only silent ghosts of bygone adventure, for a new series.

Hours later, the ringing cell phone startled him. He jumped and knocked over the stale warm beer he’d taken one swig of. “‘lo?”

“Kam?”

“What? Who?”

“Kameron, the dogs were loose.” Hayley. Crying. “You have to come. It’s awful. Gregg. Oh…”

What was all that street noise? He reached for his shoes. “Slow down. I haven’t slept. What’re you trying to tell me?”

She audibly drew in a breath and exhaled. “Winter and Summer were running in the street. It’s really a highway, you know, dragging their leashes. I hurried out to take them home.”

He grabbed his coat and keys while she tried to choke out something he couldn’t understand.

Hayley. Sobbing.

He waited another beat. “I’m on my way. I spent the night hammering out the plot for a couple new books.”

She drew in a huge gulp of air and blurted. “It’s Pastor Gregg. I took home the dogs and found him collapsed in the driveway. I called nine-one-one and held it together until I heard your voice.”

Sirens rent the background. “Hang in there. See you in ten.”

“Can we stay on the phone until you get here? I think I can hold on if you talk to me. Right now by myself, I might faint. Oh, here come Bette Jean and Ross. It’s mad. Fire and rescue. A deputy sheriff.” Another blare covered her voice. “The ambulance just got here.”

“I’m in the car now.” Kam slammed the door. “I don’t understand. He kept in shape by walking the dogs and using light weights.”

“You’re right.”

“He didn’t overeat.” What happened?

“I can make out occasional comments. They’re suggesting heart attack or stroke.”

The commotion of activity became visible a mile away from Edgewood. “I’m almost there, Hayley. I have to see him before they take him.”

It was past time for Kameron to seek the face of Jesus. Today is the day of salvation.

Words of caution and preparation declared centuries ago. Words Gregg quoted multiple times. Words meant for Kameron now?