The meeting of the Whisper Falls Christmas Bazaar Committee commenced Saturday morning in the conference room of the library, Miss Evelyn Parsons presiding. Lana arrived early, notebook and telephone recorder in hand to find others already there before her. She took a seat in back, heartened by the welcoming smiles of several familiar faces. Haley left her spot on the front row to sit next to Lana. She’d come alone.
“Where’s your baby?” Lana asked.
“Daddy’s play day.” Haley smiled. “Creed loves having Rose to himself once in a while, and we already know his part in the bazaar. He works at my table and donates helicopter rides.” She gave a little shiver. “Which I will never bid on.”
Lana laughed at her friend’s aversion. “You’re so lucky.”
“I know and I’m really thankful.” Haley set a huge, lime-green tote bag on the floor. “How are things going with you and Mr. Looks-great-in-a-tool-belt?”
Lana rolled her eyes at the description though she had to agree. Davis in work clothes was every bit as attractive as Davis in church attire. She was still reeling from Thanksgiving Day and the feelings he’d stirred up inside her. For two days now she’d done nothing but wish for the impossible. “I think he likes me, Haley, and it won’t work.”
“Why?”
“You know why. We’re all wrong for each other.” When Haley only stared at her, head tilted, as if she was crazy, Lana admitted, “I stupidly let him kiss me.”
“And?”
A slow grin pulled at Lana’s cheeks. “It was amazing. He’s amazing. And his kids are adorable but...”
“But you think you’re not good enough because of all that junk from your past. That’s it, isn’t it?”
At that moment, several more people entered the room, among them Tara Brewster and Jenny Cranton. When Jenny saw Lana, she stiffened, grabbed Tara’s elbow, leaned in and whispered something. Tara glanced at Lana, curiosity in her expression.
Shame rose in Lana.
“Who is that?” Haley asked.
“Davis’s sister.”
“Oh. Not good. Not good at all.”
That was putting it mildly.
Others arrived, among them Annalisa and Cassie and a few other familiar faces in addition to some new ones. Head high, determined not to let Jenny’s slight get to her, Lana introduced herself to the newcomers as a reporter for the Gazette.
Then the meeting commenced with Miss Evelyn in charge, efficiently setting up committees for everything from donations and advertising to volunteers and decorations. The bazaar, it seemed, was a very big event in Whisper Falls.
After a while, Miss Evelyn switched on some background Christmas music and the attendees split into groups to brainstorm and organize. Lana ventured from group to group, listening in, taking notes, gaining a buzz of excitement from the creativity flowing in the room. Had it not been for Jenny’s coolness, Lana would have felt a part of the group. This was fun and fulfilling.
Kind of like kissing Davis Turner.
She shook her head at the random thought. The man gave her no rest at all. She knew she’d hurt his feelings on Thanksgiving, a truth that made her ache. She didn’t want to hurt him. That was the whole point. But Davis, kind and wonderful Davis, had stayed another hour to eat pie and talk as if nothing had happened. When he’d left he’d kissed her on the cheek. That one little act—slow, sweet and powerful in its simple tenderness—had rocked her world.
Then, as if she hadn’t felt like a big enough loser, he’d called her yesterday. He’d found a Black Friday deal on bicycles for his kids and asked if she wanted one for Sydney’s Christmas.
No wonder she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She shot a glance at Jenny’s table. Davis’s sister was busily writing something on a notepad but Tara Brewster glanced up, caught Lana’s eye and smiled. Pleasantly surprised, Lana smiled back at the pretty blonde. The warm buzz increased and she moved on to the committee in charge of arts and crafts, Haley’s group. As she listened in, she wished she had something to offer but creative arts were not her gift.
When they returned to full session, ideas fairly sizzled through the air to Miss Evelyn who fielded them all with alacrity. When no one volunteered for a task, Miss Evelyn appointed. And no one refused.
“Lana.” The older woman peered over a pair of reading glasses. “I expect you to help with advertising.”
Lana blinked a couple of times. “All right.”
“Joshua Kendle isn’t here but you ask him. He’ll give us free space. Make us a pretty ad. Nice and big and run it often. Ted Beggs and I will take care of social media and the radio stations.”
Now she understood how Miss Evelyn accomplished so much. With humor and strength, she delegated. Refusal was not an option. “Okay.”
“Think about the music, too. The high school chorus is singing and the Methodist Choir. Maybe the Boggy Boys Band. But we could use you. Something modern and fresh and a little bit country.”
Lana felt the stares turning in her direction. Haley gave her a thumbs-up. Thankfully, Miss Evelyn didn’t push for a response, but simply said, “You think on it,” and moved on to Edie, the owner of Sweets and Eats, who co-chaired the food and concessions.
Think on it? Her heart was pounding so hard, Lana couldn’t think at all.
She bent to her notepad and pretended to write, missing several minutes of the meeting to calm her anxiety. Miss Evelyn surely must have heard about the incident at the basketball game and yet, she’d casually urged Lana to sing as if she hadn’t made a fool of herself in front of several hundred people.
What was that about?
Ears buzzing, Lana scribbled madly, doodling little nothings.
Why couldn’t she simply tell them the truth? Why couldn’t she admit the reasons she wouldn’t sing? But she knew the answer. They thought badly enough of her as it was. No way she’d admit that she couldn’t sing sober.
After a bit, she shook off her dark thoughts to hear Miss Evelyn say, “This year we’re reaching out, going for more tourist trade. Work your Facebook and Twitter.” She tapped a pen against her lip. “Now if we could somehow promise them a white Christmas.”
Titters of laughter trickled around the room. If anyone could wrangle snow from the sky for the sake of Whisper Falls tourism, Miss Evelyn would figure out a way.
A white-haired woman on the third row—Reverend Schmidt’s wife—raised her hand. “Miss Evelyn? What is this year’s charity?”
“Good question, Phoebe. Let me explain to the newcomers. Each year the town council chooses a charity to receive a portion of the money raised by the Christmas Bazaar. Townspeople may nominate an individual, a service group, or an outright charity such as missions. This year one of our own is in need.”
Heads swiveled in the direction of Jenny’s table. Curious, Lana watched as Jenny’s face changed from puzzled to a slow dawning.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Oh, my. You didn’t?”
Miss Evelyn’s smile was benevolent. “We certainly did. You and Chuck put time and energy and love into this town. We want Charlie to have that operation ASAP.”
“How did you know?” Jenny glanced left and right, expression incredulous, palms lifted. “We only found out ourselves yesterday.”
“Don’t you worry about that, hon, or anything else for that matter. God’s taking care of that precious little boy of yours, and Whisper Falls will help with the rest.”
Jenny covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. The women around her hugged her shoulders and patted her back. Tears glistened in more than one pair of eyes.
Lana was stunned. Davis had told her about Charlie’s illness and the stress it had put on his sister, but she had never viewed Jenny as anything but a mean-spirited woman. Like Lana’s mother. Whisper Falls apparently didn’t see her that way.
The revelation shook her. Just as Jenny had judged her, she’d judged Jenny.
She still had a lot of growing to do.
As the meeting broke up, and Lana started to leave, mind reeling with this new information, Miss Evelyn called her name. “Lana, wait up, please.”
Braced for more unwanted conversation about music, Lana nonetheless waited while other women huddled around Miss Evelyn like chicks around a hen. During the wait, she made a lunch date with Haley and chatted with Cassie and Annalisa and Pastor Ed. When a tear-streaked Jenny exited, surrounded by supportive friends, Lana felt the stirrings of compassion. In an odd kind of way, Lana understood the desire of a mother to do everything possible for the welfare of her child.
Soon the committee members cleared out, leaving only Lana, Haley and Miss Evelyn. Haley hitched her green tote and said, “Gotta run, ladies. See you at church tomorrow.”
Church. Lana’s heart thumped. Davis would be there. After this revelation about Jenny, she was more flustered than ever. She lifted a hand and waved but Haley was already gone.
“I have a story idea for you,” Miss Evelyn said without fanfare.
Some of the tension went out of Lana. No questions about the music. No pushy request for her to sing. Just a story idea. “Great. What is it?”
“The Christmas Express.” Palm open, Miss Evelyn dramatically waved the word across the sky in a rainbow. “How’s that sound?”
“Enticing. What is it?”
“Uncle Digger and I renamed the train for the holidays but we came up with this great idea kind of late, so we need you to write up a Jim-dandy article and spread the word.”
Lana had stuffed the notebook in her tote but pulled it out again. “Tell me all about it.”
“I have a better idea. We’ve gotten all the particulars in order for the inaugural ride which takes place tomorrow afternoon. Just a handful of invited people, mostly news folks. I even called the radio station down in Moreburg.”
“You’re inviting me along on the ride?”
“I sure am, though we could use more kiddies. You see, it’s a family ride with lots of fun things for the children. You gather up that darling girl of yours and ask Davis to bring his children, too. Take lots of photos and write this up from the children’s perspective.”
Lana got stuck on the part about asking Davis. Would that be wise? Or would she be an even worse loser to let his children miss an opportunity to experience the brand-new Christmas Express?
“So what do you think? Isn’t this a grand idea?”
Lana looped her bag over her shoulder.
Oh, yeah. Just grand.
An Arctic front moved through the state late on Saturday night, chilling Sunday to freezing temperatures. Snow was in the forecast, much to the kids’ delight. A sheen of lacy frost formed on windows and wood smoke puffed from atop houses, scenting the air as Davis stepped out of his truck. Car doors slammed and voices echoed over the parking spaces outside the train depot and museum. Below the town but visible from the depot, a handful of boats puttered along the shiny Blackberry River.
“Looks like a good turnout.” Davis motioned with his chin toward the Channel Six news van.
“I saw some others pulling in, as well.” Lana’s lips puffed vapor. “Miss Evelyn mentioned a ‘handful’ of people but I think there might be a few more than that.”
Davis shook his head, amused. Miss Evelyn had a way about her. “Any idea exactly what she has in mind?”
“Only what I told you on the phone. A Polar Express experience.”
“You mean, like the movie?”
“We’ll soon find out. Knowing Miss Evelyn and Uncle Digger, our evening will be way more than a train ride into the mountains.” When they’d gotten out of the truck, Lana had taken Nathan’s hand. Now she paused to tug his sock cap down over his ears, smiling. “Don’t want your ears to freeze off.”
Nathan giggled, eating up the attention.
The scene touched Davis in a way that had him wondering. Did Lana know the effect she had on his son? On him?
“It feels like Christmas,” Paige said, hopping up and down in her thick, hooded parka. “This is going to be fun.”
“A great way to start the Christmas season,” Davis agreed.
The train depot sat in the center of town, a salute to the glory days of the railroad that had built Whisper Falls and other small Ozark towns round about. The 1920’s passenger train, used for tourist excursions year-round, waited beyond the boardwalk steps. The engine’s green-and-red paint had been transformed to Christmas colors by the addition of tiny lights and a giant wreath on the cow-catcher.
“Look,” Sydney said, fairly bursting with excitement. Bundled in a bright blue coat that turned her eyes to gleaming jewels, Lana’s little girl pointed to two red-clad characters standing in the train’s open doorway. “Santa and Mrs. Claus!”
Sure enough Uncle Digger Parsons had traded his usual striped overalls in favor of a red Santa suit and a snowy beard attached beneath his horseshoe mustache. On his head, though, was his engineer cap decorated with a sprig of holly. No doubt about it. Uncle Santa was driving this train. Miss Evelyn, cheeks rosy and eyes twinkling, wore a long red velvet dress, white apron and white hair covered by a ruffled red mobcap, a perfect Mrs. Claus.
Nathan stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow. Dad,” he said in breathless awe. “This is so cool. An almost-real Santa.”
The adults exchanged amused looks. Davis had always been truthful with his children about Santa Claus, not wanting them to confuse Santa and Jesus, but he’d never been militant about it.
“Sometimes pretending is fun,” Lana said, kindly.
Nathan’s earnest, innocent eyes raised to hers. “Can I pretend you’re my mommy?”
Davis thought his heart would stop beating. Ever since some kid at school had asked him why his mother left, Nathan had craved the one thing Davis could not be. But his innocent blunder was both embarrassing and unanswerable. He’d put Lana in a tough spot and Davis didn’t know how to help, especially after Thanksgiving. He still wondered why she’d invited them on today’s outing. Surprised but glad.
Sorry, he mouthed over Nathan’s head. Inside he was praying she wouldn’t break his son’s heart, that she’d somehow let the little guy down easy.
In her snug jeans and brown fitted coat with glossy hair around her shoulders, Lana bent to cup Nathan’s chin. “You are such a fine boy. Any woman would be honored.”
Nathan looked from Lana to Davis, face twisted into a question mark. “Does that mean okay?”
His cute response broke the tension and both adults chuckled. A sudden lightness filled Davis’s chest, and he felt relieved and grateful to the woman. Lana had done more than let Nathan down easy. She’d let him in.
He placed a hand on Nathan’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Just like Santa Claus. We’ll pretend for today.” He wanted Nathan to have good memories of Christmas. The boy would learn soon enough that life—and love—were more complicated than a game of pretend.
With excited whoops, the children rushed ahead, climbing onto the train platform, not waiting for the adults. Miss Evelyn—aka Mrs. Santa—welcomed them. Uncle Digger disappeared inside but his ho-ho-ho echoed out into the late afternoon.
“Up you go.” Davis put his hand beneath Lana’s elbow as she took the first step, more because he wanted to touch her than because she needed help. “Thanks for the way you handled that,” he said. “I’ll have a talk with Nathan.”
“He’s just a little boy, Davis. He doesn’t understand there is more to getting a mother than brown hair.”
Davis gave a short huff. That was an understatement. Still, he was grateful to her. “Missed you at church this morning.”
“It’s nice to be missed.” She didn’t offer an explanation and before he could ask, she gasped. “Look at this place.”
He did. The interior of the old train had been turned into a Christmas spectacular. Bright red stars and huge snowflakes dangled from a rounded ceiling festooned with lighted garland. The side posts looked like red-and-white peppermint sticks. Swags of shiny tinsel dipped from one side of the car to the other. More silver tinsel had been roped along the backs of the seats and topped with bright red bows. Christmas music seeped through the speakers, quiet but cheery. It was an over-the-top wonderland of Christmas, missing only the snow and presents.
“I’ve ridden the train before during the fall foliage tours, but this is something.”
Lana lifted her nose and looked around. “Do you smell cinnamon?”
He took a long sniff, filling his lungs with a smell that reminded him of Mom’s Christmas cookies. “I think it’s coming through the vents. Nice touch.”
“It’s making me hungry for a cinnamon roll!” Lana said with a laugh, her eyes sparkling. She looked fresh and pretty and full of joy today. He liked the look. In fact, he liked a lot of things about Lana Ross and unless his male radar had gone completely bust, she liked him, too. They got along great, could talk about anything and they liked each other’s kids. So why did she push him away every time he ventured near?
The cars were filling rapidly and the same gush of excited pleasure escaped from many of the riders as they found their seats. Miss Evelyn and Uncle Digger had outdone themselves and the trip hadn’t even begun.
Davis and Lana followed the children, coming to rest in the center of the car with the kids in a front seat and the two adults behind. Davis was certain the three munchkins had intentionally maneuvered him and Lana into sharing a seat. He had to admit sitting next to Lana in a seat built for the smaller bodies of 1920’s riders was pretty cozy. Their shoulders brushed and Lana’s flowery fragrance messed with his head. And when she turned her head the tiniest bit, they were as close as a whisper.
While he was enjoying the attraction, Uncle Digger’s voice came over the intercom calling, “All aboard for the Christmas Express!” The train lurched once before slowly chugging out of the depot. “Settle back and enjoy the ride, folks. We’re on our way to the North Pole!”
“North Pole!” A wide-eyed Paige squealed and grabbed Sydney in a mutual little-girl hug. “North Pole!”
Nathan, crammed against the window, whipped around. “Dad, guess what? We’re going to the North Pole. Right now!”
Davis’s mouth lifted. “So I heard. I’m sure glad we brought our coats.”
“Yeah.” His boy looked from Davis to Lana. “You can snuggle up if you get too cold.”
Davis laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Snuggling with Lana sounded pretty good, if he thought about it. Which he did. “Look out the window, buddy.”
Easily distracted, the excited boy whipped around and pressed his face into the window. Rings of vapor clouded the pane. He swiped at them with his coat sleeve and watched the town slip away.
Miss Evelyn and her helpers, all appropriately dressed in elf attire, moved through the cars handing out candy canes and programs.
Lana took out her camera and said, “I should get some photos. Will you excuse me?”
“What? No snuggling?” he teased.
She stuck a finger in his face. “You have to wait until we reach the North Pole. Remember?”
Her lighthearted reply tickled him. He stood to let her out of the seat, grinning when she leaned around to face the kids, camera at the ready. “All right, you three, say cheese.”
The children hammed it up, giggling, crossing their eyes and poking out pink tongues. Laughing, too, Lana snapped and snapped before moving on to other children in their car, taking the time to gather names and permission. He watched her, interested in the genuinely nice way she had about her. Lana had changed a lot in her years away. The name was the same but the woman wasn’t.
The classic song, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” came through the speakers. Lana began to bebop toward him, mouthing the words.
He thought about her music and knew she missed it. On Thanksgiving she’d played the guitar and sang with the children in her rich mezzo-soprano voice. Her gift was meant to be shared whether she was a big star or not. Though she claimed stage fright, he couldn’t stop thinking there was more, something she hadn’t told him.
Lana had secrets.
Suddenly, she stuck the camera in his face and before he could recover from the shock, she pressed the shutter button.
“Hey!”
“My boss likes lots of photos and so do the readers.”
“The only person who will like that one is my mother.”
“There you go then. One happy reader.” Full of energy and Christmas cheer, she scootched him with her shoulder and hip, pushing him to the inside of the seat. The mountains outside the window were brown and bare except for the glades of deep green pines and cedar. Occasionally a vivid red cardinal flitted through the trees.
“I want to sit with you, Daddy,” Nathan said after a while. Davis wasn’t surprised. His boy had never been good at long-distance rides.
Lana patted the tiny space between them. “Come on back. We’ll make room.”
Crawling over the girls, he came, crowding into the narrow spot.
“Tired of riding, little man?” Lana asked.
“Yeah.” Candy cane in his mouth, he leaned against her, slowly inching down as if to put his head in her lap. Davis considered stopping him but Lana didn’t seem to mind.
She gathered Nathan close as if holding Davis’s growing eight-year-old was the natural thing for her to do. When Nathan grew too warm, she helped him with his coat, murmuring something in his ear that made him smile around the peppermint stick.
Davis’s insides clenched. His children adored Lana and she treated them with such tender consideration it took his breath. She was good for them. There was nothing sweeter to a dad than knowing a woman cared about his children.
They’d ridden a while when Miss Evelyn announced a sing-along and familiar Christmas songs filtered through the speakers. Nathan sat up then, candy cane still in his mouth to sing “Jingle Bells.” The elves came through the car handing out bell bracelets for the children to shake. And shake them, they did!
Paige whipped around in her seat and, above the noise said, “Sing, Dad. Sing, Lana.”
Davis obliged, pleased when Lana’s husky voice joined in. The sound really was rough honey, flowing over him sweet and thick with a touch of gravel that raised goose bumps on his arms.
When the song ended, he leaned toward her. “Your voice knocks me out. You still love to sing, don’t you?”
“I do. I shouldn’t. I promised God I’d lay it down if He’d—” She stopped again and shook her head. “Never mind.”
“If He would do what?”
A beat passed and he could see the wheels turning in her head. Would she lie to him or share a little glimpse of herself?
“If He would change my life. And He did.”
“Do you really think God doesn’t want you to use your talent?”
“It was the only thing I had to trade.” She dropped her gaze to Nathan’s shirt collar. Davis caught her hand, pulled her around to face him. “You think the stage fright came from God?”
“No. Maybe.” She heaved a heavy sigh and moved her hand back to Nathan. “I don’t know where it came from, Davis, but my life is better now. Sharing my music with strangers is behind me. I’m happy.”
If that was true Davis had made a mistake that could come back to bite him.
“Deck the Halls” broke out over the gathering, led by a slightly off-key but no less enthusiastic Miss Evelyn. Davis dropped a friendly arm around Lana’s shoulders and hugged. “Then make me happy, too. Sing. Sing like nobody’s listening.”
So she did. As the music fell from their lips, Paige looked over one shoulder to listen. Seeing Davis with his arm around Lana, she punched Sydney. Both girls turned to grin. Above the music, Sydney pumped her fist and proclaimed, “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”