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“Mr. Logan?” Lori’s heart began to pound.
Jesse’s head snapped up, and once again his face looked as if it had been carved out of stone.
Lori hoped she woudn’t live to regret her next words.
“Are you still looking for a nanny?”
“That’s right.” The words sounded curt. “I didn’t realize you were interested in the position. When can you start?” Jesse’s words were sarcastic. He must want to scare her off. He’d already fired five nannies in the months since the triplets were born.
Lori met his gaze. And smiled sweetly. She could handle him.
“Right now.”
After the Storm:
A Kansas community unites to rebuild
Healing the Boss’s Heart—Valerie Hansen
July 2009
Marrying Minister Right—Annie Jones
August 2009
Rekindled Hearts—Brenda Minton
September 2009
The Matchmaking Pact—Carolyne Aarsen
October 2009
A Family for Thanksgiving—Patricia Davids
November 2009
Jingle Bell Babies—Kathryn Springer
December 2009
KATHRYN SPRINGER
is a lifelong Wisconsin resident. Growing up in a “newspaper” family, she spent long hours as a child plunking out stories on her mother’s typewriter and hasn’t stopped writing since! She loves to write inspirational romance because it allows her to combine her faith in God with her love of a happy ending.
Jingle Bell Babies
Kathryn Springer
Special thanks and acknowledgment to
Kathryn Springer for her contribution to the
After the Storm miniseries.
Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope;
because of the Lord’s great love we are not
consumed, for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning.
—Lamentations 3:21–23
To Val, Annie, Brenda, Carolyne and Pat. It was an
honor to be able to work with such gifted writers.
Your cooperation, encouragement and prayer
support over the course of the summer was a real
blessing—and I love how we occasionally took
“cyber-coffee breaks” together!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Questions for Discussion
Prologue
July 11, 1:15 p.m.
“One of the funnel clouds that touched down in the area yesterday and struck the small town of High Plains was determined to be a level F3. Already the Red Cross, local law enforcement agents and volunteers have banded together to begin cleanup—”
Jesse Logan stabbed his finger against the power button of the radio. He didn’t need to hear a reporter condense the past twenty-four hours into a neat sound bite, or try to describe the damage a second funnel cloud had caused when it slashed across the prairie, directly toward the Circle L.
Jesse had seen the devastation firsthand; he was standing in the middle of it.
The kitchen lay in shambles around him. The twister had spared the outbuildings but clipped the side of the ranch house, taking out a section of the wall, while leaving his mother’s antique china cabinet in the corner of the room intact. Glass from the shattered window littered the floor, strewn among soggy tufts of insulation and chunks of sodden wallboard.
Jesse picked up a piece of wood and was about to pitch it into the growing pile of debris when he realized it was one of the legs from the kitchen table.
His fingers tightened around it, ignoring the splinters that bit into his skin.
Yesterday morning he’d sat at the table, before going out to do his chores.
And yesterday afternoon…
A fresh wave of pain crashed over Jesse, making him wonder if he wasn’t still caught in the throes of a nightmare. Except his eyes weren’t closed.
The crunch of tires against gravel momentarily broke through his turbulent thoughts. For a split second hope stirred inside his chest as he sent up a silent prayer that the car coming up the driveway would be a familiar one.
It was.
The hammer slipped out of Jesse’s hand and grazed a crease in the hardwood floor as the High Plains squad car stopped in front of the house. Colt Ridgeway’s tall frame unfolded from the passenger side.
As the police chief approached, the stoic set of his jaw and the regret darkening his eyes
