Second chance christmas, p.19
Second Chance Christmas, page 19
He swiped at the screen. “I made an online bulk order after I got off the phone with my boss—estimated delivery in two days.”
“For what?” Tori asked, leaning in to see.
Blake turned the phone so they could all view the webpage featuring an image of a colorful package. “Allergy meds.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“This calls for a celebration.” Gretchen shot Charlie a pointed look over her shoulder as she waved her hands at the teens and Art. “Everyone, come help me gather more dessert in the kitchen.”
Within moments, the living room cleared, leaving Charlie and Blake alone with his presentation still on the screen. She glanced up at it, then at him. Her breath hitched at the look in his eyes.
“I know I tend to rush and push things, but I hope this was a positive exception.” He inched closer to her, his gaze holding her hostage. “I had to act fast with my boss. There was no time to waste.”
“No, it was absolutely a positive exception.” She nodded, her skin tingling at his proximity. “Like Tori said—the best gift ever. In fact, now I feel guilty that I never got you a present.”
His expression remained serious despite her nervous grin. “You’re the gift, Charlie. You and Tori.” Blake tugged gently at her arm, and she fell easily into his embrace, as naturally as if she had been born to be there. “I was a fool to have ever left you behind.”
She leaned back to see him. “You know I forgive—”
“I know. But I need to say it.” His blue gaze roved over hers. “I love you. I did back then, even if I wasn’t able to show it properly, and I never stopped.”
“I love you, too.” Charlie whispered the words in return, the sentiment coming from the deepest part of her heart. She loved Blake—every version of him that she’d known, now meshed into one man she hoped to spend all her future Christmases with.
Blake glanced up, and she followed his gaze to the ceiling. “No mistletoe,” she pointed out with a fake pout.
“No problem.” His whispered words barely registered before his lips eagerly covered hers. She sank into the kiss, winding her arms around his neck as he pulled her in closer. Her heart soared. This was even better than the mistletoe kiss. That one had been born of confusion and angst and the unresolved past.
This one spoke nothing but sweet promises of the future.
“Merry Christmas, Charlie.” Blake wound his fingers into her hair, tucking her against his shoulder.
She let out a contented sigh as she snuggled into his sweater. “Merry Christmas, indeed.”
Epilogue
Five months later
“I’m so proud of you.” Charlie looped her arms around Blake’s waist and smiled up at her new fiancé. “I knew the idea was a good one when I heard it, but it looks like the whole town agrees with me.”
Blake rubbed her back, his touch warmer than the May sun streaming across the yard of the recently renovated Jitter Mugs/Paradise Paws combo. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I’m here.” He grinned down at her, his blue polo accentuating his eyes. Today, they weren’t a stormy sea, but a buoyant spring. “And other days, it feels like I never left...Mrs. Bryant.”
She slapped at his arm. “Not until June.”
“I’m just practicing.” He leaned down and kissed her soundly. “We can practice more of that, too.”
They kissed again, a lengthy one that filled Charlie’s mind with images of white dresses and candelabra and aisles drenched with rose petals.
They stood in contented silence. Charlie ran her finger over the diamond solitaire on her left hand as she and Blake observed the grand opening party happening around them. The dogs—including a few new ones, as several had been recently adopted—ran happily across the lush grass, fetching toys that eager adults and kids alike tossed for them.
Behind them, the original Paradise Paws building had been remodeled and added on to, providing Rachel an office upgrade and a new adjacent space solely for the Jitter Mugs franchise, which featured exclusive Flour Power treats. Blake had even named several of the local menu items after the dogs—Labrador Latte, Mocha Mutt Macchiato and, her personal favorite, Cooper’s Cold Brew.
It was all a huge hit.
“Uncle Blake!” Tori rushed up to them, her ponytail swinging as Waffles trotted alongside. Blake had officially adopted Waffles, paying Rachel a small monthly fee to allow the sweet animal to stay on at the rescue until he could have a home with him and Tori. Since finding Tori on Christmas Eve night, Waffles had stuck to her even closer than before. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why is that? Ready for another decaf latte already?” Blake ruffled her hair, and she pretended to be annoyed as she shoved the loose strands back into place. It was all part of their routine, and Charlie loved watching their dynamic develop.
“No, we have a surprise.” Tori tugged at his arm, shooting Charlie a pointed look behind his back. It’s time, she mouthed.
“Right.” Charlie rubbed at her chin, hoping to cover the smile she couldn’t contain. She’d been ready to burst with this secret for weeks. “Tori and I baked a special congratulations cake for your big grand opening day.”
“I would say you didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did.” He patted his flat stomach and grinned. “What’s a party without cake?”
Together, Charlie and Tori led him to the deck off the end of the coffee shop, where patrons could sit and enjoy the view of the water and the dogs as they enjoyed their treats.
“Great party, Blake.” Gretchen waved as she and Art climbed the porch steps and joined them at the table in front of the two-tiered cake, along with Nadia, who was carrying a stack of paper plates out the back door of the shop. Blake had hired her as a barista to help her start saving money for college, and so far, she was thriving in her new position, which brought a slice of independence.
Sabrina and Riley had left in March to stay at a foster-to-adopt home in Kansas City. Their departure had been bittersweet—it was good that they were being considered for adoption and got to stay together, which was rare—but it was sad to say goodbye.
And now it was time for another chapter for the rest of them. Charlie handed Tori the cake cutter. “Want to do the honors?”
“This is really nice of you guys. I don’t think anyone’s made me my own cake before except on my birthday.” Blake took a sip of his hazelnut latte that Nadia had whipped up earlier. “I should start new franchises every day.”
“Well, this cake is special.” Tori slid the cutter carefully into the dessert, then looked up with a grin just as Gretchen snapped a photo on her phone. “It’s a gender-reveal cake.”
Blake bent over and sputtered coffee. “I’m sorry, what?”
“A gender-reveal cake,” Tori repeated. She glanced at Charlie, then at Nadia, Gretchen and Art, who grinned widely back at her. They’d been in on the surprise for weeks. She pulled the cutter free of the cake, and pink sprinkles spilled out of the middle. “It’s a girl. And it’s me.”
Blake, who had frozen in place, slowly straightened and set his coffee cup on the table. “Are you saying...”
“I’m ready to move forward with official guardianship.” Tori beamed.
“Really?” Blake let out a whoop, pulling her into a bear hug that sent the cake cutter clattering onto the table. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
Charlie thought her heart couldn’t possibly contain any more happiness until Tori’s timid voice spoke, muffled against Blake’s shirt. “Can I call you Dad?”
Moisture shone in Blake’s eyes as he pulled away, sniffing. “Can I call you Victoria?”
She laughed, her own eyes shining. “Maybe not.”
“You can call me anything you want.” He ruffled her hair again, and this time Tori didn’t even bother to fix it. His eyes met Charlie’s, and simultaneously, he and Tori held out their arms. “Get in here, Mrs. Bryant.”
“You mean Mom.” Tori grinned.
This time, Charlie didn’t bother to correct either of them as she joined the group hug—her forever family.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from An Amish Proposal for Christmas by Vannetta Chapman.
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed reading about the characters of Tulip Mound as much as I enjoyed writing them! As the “dog mom” of a miniature schnauzer named Cooper—yes, he’s real!—I knew I had to incorporate some furry canines into my next story.
And I can say, as a Sunday school teacher for the college class at my church, that I also adore teenagers. I might balk at being asked to work in the church nursery, but give me all the teenagers! I love their clever wit, their unique perspective on the world and how they can see things so clearly that adults tend to muddle. I had a blast expressing those characteristics through Tori, Nadia, Sabrina and Riley.
In this novel, I particularly loved the instinctive camaraderie the foster girls felt with the rescue dogs—they had someone who related to feeling left out, rejected and unwanted. Many teenagers struggle with their identity in these ways, even outside the foster system, and could use an adult to remind them of their worth.
I hope in reading Second Chance Christmas you’ll be blessed, entertained and encouraged—and also that you might consider looking into the wonderful Court Appointed Special Advocates program, CASA, through Volunteers for Youth Justice. Learn more about how to be an advocate for an adolescent in need at vyjla.org/casa/.
Blessings,
Betsy St. Amant
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An Amish Proposal for Christmas
by Vannetta Chapman
Chapter One
Shipshewana, Indiana, May 17
Rebecca Yoder checked her reflection in the ladies’ room mirror at the Shipshewana Outdoor Market—the largest outdoor market in the Midwest, if the town’s advertisement flyers were to be believed. Large or not, she couldn’t wait to be far from this place. Any direction would do, just not here. She straightened her apron, made sure her kapp was properly fastened and threw back her shoulders.
She could do this.
Train her replacement. Confirm her position with the mission board. Start living life on her own terms.
She marched down the hall and tapped on the closed door with General Manager stenciled on the front. Her dat called out, “Come in,” so she did. He was sitting with Gideon Fisher, the new hire who was to take her place.
Becca hadn’t actually met Gideon, but she’d heard plenty about him. He was the middle child of nine siblings, and his parents were longtime friends of her dat. Apparently, they’d asked that Amos find a place for Gideon at the market. He was born and raised in the small Amish community of Beeville in South Texas.
Texas. To Becca, even a small town in nowhere Texas sounded better than Northern Indiana.
“Rebecca, come in. I want you to meet Gideon.”
She smiled in what she hoped was a friendly and confident manner and took the seat next to Gideon. “Gut to meet you, Gideon.”
“And you, Rebecca.” He said her name with a southern drawl that reminded her of a slow-moving river.
“Becca is fine.”
He nodded as if that made sense, but he didn’t comment.
She knew from what her dat had shared that Gideon was a bit shy, but he managed to make eye contact before glancing away.
He looked to be a tall man, though she couldn’t really tell since he was seated. He had blond hair and blue eyes.
Why was he so shy?
None of that mattered. The only thing she needed to be concerned with was that he take the job permanently so she could escape this place.
Her dat was still looking at her with a Cheshire cat grin, which usually meant he was up to something—and usually that something was matchmaking. Now, which of her four schweschdern did he have in mind for Gideon? She almost felt sorry for the man sitting beside her, but she quickly pushed away any such sentiments. If he fell for one of her schweschdern, he’d be more likely to stay, keep the job and survive the ninety-day trial period.
As soon as he did that, she was free.
“Gideon is eager to begin today.”
“As am I.” She turned to toss another smile at Gideon. “I can’t wait to show you our wunderbaar market.”
“It’s bigger than I imagined.”
“Oh ya—biggest in the Midwest.” She nearly slapped her forehead. To her ears, she sounded like one of the Shipshe flyers. “We’ll have you up to speed in no time.”
“It’s a lot to learn,” Amos cautioned. “Becca has been helping here at the market since she was old enough to count out change.”
“All of my life.” She tried to make that sound like a good thing.
“Rest assured that I’m putting your training in her competent hands.”
Her dat had recently turned fifty-six. They teased him often about his beard, which was mostly gray now, and his brown hair, which was still putting up a fight. He was round and usually jolly, though quite serious at work. His wire-rim spectacles gave him a solemn look.
“He might not even need ninety days,” she suggested. “I suspect Gideon will be a fast learner.”
“Becca, we will not rush this.”
“Oh, I wasn’t—”
“It’s very important that Gideon shadow you for the first thirty days. Gideon, I expect you to take notes and ask questions.”
Gideon nodded again, but this time the corners of his mouth were turned down.
Becca barely resisted rolling her eyes. It wasn’t as if he’d be expected to perform surgery. It was an outdoor market—didn’t take a genius to manage the vendors, oversee the auction, maintain the calendar, schedule deliveries and hold meetings.
“After the initial thirty days, the second month of your internship is when you’ll split the responsibilities with Becca, cycling through each section of the market until you’re comfortable with every facet of your job.”
Becca would only be working part-time at that point. She could begin preparing for her position with Mennonite Disaster Services. She wondered where her first assignment would be. Perhaps in Oregon, which suffered with wildfires nearly every August. Or maybe there would be flooding in Tennessee. Not that she hoped for such a terrible thing, but she’d always wanted to see the Smoky Mountains.
“Finally, Becca will be available for the final thirty days of your ninety-day trial period, to answer questions or help with emergencies.”
The last emergency she remembered was the cotton candy machine breaking down in the snack bar. Becca was pretty sure Gideon could handle things on his own, but she nodded enthusiastically. It was easier—and more expedient—to go along with her father’s plan. Disagreeing with him, especially in matters related to the market, was a lesson in frustration.
“Do either of you have any questions?”
“We’ll be fine, Dat. Try not to worry.”
“I’m the general manager. Worrying is part of my job description.”
Becca glanced at her watch. “Eight thirty. Gates are open, so I suppose we should get started.” She popped out of her chair.
“Wait—here’s a schedule.” Amos handed her a slip of paper filled from top to bottom with his neat handwriting. Her dat was famous for his small slips of paper that invariably contained lists of things she didn’t want to do.
She scanned it quickly, then passed it to Gideon. “I’m ready if you are, Gideon.”
He was now standing, but held back when she walked to the door. “Thank you, Amos. I appreciate you giving me this opportunity.”
“We’re happy to have you here. Becca will be able to answer any questions you have. All of my doschdern know this market as well as they know their own home.” He hesitated as if he wanted to say more, shook his head and then motioned for them to go.
They were out of the office, down the hall and out of the building before Gideon managed to say what was on his mind. “Any idea what that was about?”
“What what was about?”
“Your dat thinking I need a babysitter.”
“He never said that.”
Their first stop was the vendor spaces outside the auction building. Gideon turned left. Becca snagged his arm and nodded toward the right.
“He could have simply given me the list.”
“He could have, but then you might have ended up in the livestock barn when you’re supposed to be in the auction building.”
“Honest mistake.”
“Look.” She stopped in the middle of a walkway teeming with people—Amish, Englisch, young and old. The day was achingly beautiful, and it flashed through Becca’s mind that she might actually miss this place. Couldn’t miss it until you left, though, and leaving would only be possible if she convinced Gideon to stay. “Dat is very glad you accepted the position of assistant manager.”
“He said that? Because he looked rather skeptical.”
“He treats this market like it’s his lifework, which I suppose it is.”
Gideon glanced around the crowded aisle where they were standing. Studying him more closely, Becca realized he looked as if he’d stepped off the cover of an Amish novel. Perhaps her youngest schweschder, Ada, would take a liking to him. Ada had recently turned eighteen and was always on the lookout for a new beau, though her relationships tended to have a two-to three-week shelf life.
