told me about this maze. His uncle, Joel, designed it. They started it yesterday, but something happened and they had to fix it. I think Matt’s daddy didn’t bring enough hay the first time. He had to go back for more.”
Aah, that’s why coffee and conversation was cut short.
They reached the parking lot and hurried toward the entrance.
The horse neighed, a distant sound that echoed in the early-evening chill and beckoned Cassidy. “Mom, Mom, Mom. That’s what I want to do first!” She sped up, her hand automatically reaching back for her mother and dragging Maggie along.
That’s when Jared McCreedy exited the front door of the church, Caleb’s small hand in his. Caleb was dragging his feet, practically falling in an effort to halt his father’s progress. A constant stream of “No, No, No” came from his mouth. Heading to the side of the building, away from the crowd of people, Jared bent down and starting talking.
Maggie couldn’t hear the words, but she knew by Caleb’s bowed head that somehow the little boy had gotten in trouble. And Jared McCreedy was doing what good fathers across the world do. He was shepherding. He was offering wisdom. He was trying to teach right from wrong.
As Maggie entered the church, she could imagine Caleb arguing with his dad. It didn’t take any imagination at all to picture Jared. He wouldn’t be open to an argument, especially coming from his youngest son.
“Welcome, we’re glad you could join us!”
Maggie shelved her musings about Jared for a moment and smiled at the woman greeting them. Upswept hair, perfect makeup and wearing an outfit that could have come right out of Maggie’s store.
“Is that Lilli Ann?” Maggie asked.
The woman turned. “Where?”
“I mean the designer of your vintage suit.”
The woman checked her outfit. “Oh, this is just something I threw on. My sister sent it from Des Moines a few years ago. She said it just looked like something I’d wear.”
Too bad. So far in Roanoke there’d not been a true fashionista who could talk Crepe Fox Fur or gold-tone pearl buttons.
Safe topics for in a church foyer when you really didn’t want to be there.
“Let me take your coats,” the woman offered.
It’s not a church service, Beth had insisted. It’s just a party. No Bible study and we’ll be singing Christmas songs.
“No,” Maggie insisted. “We’re fine. I’ll hang them up.” If she hung up her cocoa leather and shearling coat, she’d know right where to get it if she needed a quick getaway.
Not that her coat could get lost amid the heavy leather jackets and box-store offerings hanging on the rack. None of tonight’s attendees seemed to be into double-breasted fronts and huge collars.
“Have you been here before?”
Maggie knew what was coming next: an invitation to services.
“Excuse me.” Maggie pulled Cassidy in front of her. “We need the restroom.”
“Right over there.”
After a thorough washing of her hands—not because they were dirty but because Maggie needed to get her bearings—and several deep breaths, all while Cassidy urged “Come on, Mom, Mom, Mom, pleeeeeease,” Maggie headed for the foyer again. The woman who’d greeted her was already at the door with some other victim.
“There’s a horse,” Cassidy reminded.
“Perfect.” The horse was outside. To Maggie’s way of thinking, being outside a church was much better than inside a church.
As they made their way to the line for the horse and wagon rides, first picking up plastic cups of hot chocolate, Maggie noticed that Jared and Caleb were still standing at the side of the church.
Cassidy, though, was all about Cassidy. In a nanosecond, Maggie was holding both their drinks while Cassidy charged full speed ahead. She would have made it, too, if a toddler hadn’t suddenly veered in her way.
Cassidy recalculated, turned left, stumbled, went down, seemed momentarily stunned, but then hopped up and without so much as a backward glance at the toddler who had deterred her, got in line.
It was that magical seven-year-old energy.
Nope, Maggie thought for the second time, she wouldn’t change a thing about Cassidy. Every nuance was part of the precious package that Maggie loved, unconditionally.
Looking behind her, she watched Jared with his son. At one time, Maggie had been a prayer warrior. If that were still true, she’d be praying that Jared McCreedy was the kind of father who would soon figure out the same thing about his youngest son.
But Maggie no longer prayed. She’d seen firsthand the power of answered prayers and it terrified her.
Chapter Four
The Main Street Church certainly drew a crowd. Maggie recognized customers, parents of Cassidy’s classmates and even Henry Throxmorton, the owner of the antiques store from across the street who never seemed to smile. He wasn’t smiling now, but he was sitting at a table across from two other men—both knew how to smile—and looking as comfortable as she’d ever seen him. His wife, looking frail but content, sat next to him.
Only six months in Roanoke and already she knew a few faces. For the first time since entering the church doors, Maggie relaxed. She could do this.
Maggie quickly purchased a few tickets and followed the path Cassidy had already taken—sans the toddler. How Cassidy knew her way around, Maggie didn’t know. In a matter of minutes, they were both in line for the horse and wagon. Never mind the cold! There were a handful of adults and a crush of kids under ten, most of whom Maggie did not know, but Cassidy did.
With mittens on and hats down over their ears, Cassidy and Maggie rode in the wagon bed, singing Christmas songs at the top of their lungs along with anyone else foolhardy enough to be outside in the freezing weather.
Joel McCreedy, Jared’s brother, added a deep bass from his position at the reins. He listened to the kids’ suggestions for songs, told jokes and even paid attention as little ones shouted their lists for Santa Claus.
Joel was easygoing, not like his older brother. With a devil-may-care glint in his eyes and I-can-do-anything attitude, the younger McCreedy brother had quickly won over both Maggie and Cassidy this past summer while he worked on remodeling the store that became Hand Me Ups.
Still, it was the older brother that Maggie couldn’t seem to forget.
After three go-rounds, the cold soon drove the Tate women inside to the crowded fellowship hall where the food smelled as inviting as the people were. It only took a moment before Cassidy claimed she was warm again and stood at one of the large windows staring longingly at the horse toting around yet another group of revelers.
Not a chance. Maggie was so cold her teeth hurt.
“Joel said
