addition to Mamie Fidler, Robin recognized Allison Douglas, Rosemary Middleton and her daughter, Marie, Abigail Rose and Nadine Shaw, the mayor’s wife. Everyone greeted Robin and invited her to partake of the muffins, provided by Rosemary, who ran the local grocery along with her husband, and cider, which Allison had brought. Marie Middleton would be of great use, being a florist. Nadine’s inclusion made sense because her eldest daughter, Faith, was marrying Dale Massey on Christmas night, so the decorations would be of special interest to her, but Robin couldn’t help feeling nervous around any of the Shaws, the mayor and his wife in particular.
Robin made a point of sitting at the opposite end of the conference table from Nadine, and unless it was her imagination, Ethan made a point of sitting next to her. Everyone else seemed to think so, too, though Abigail was the only one who gave an overt sign, raising both eyebrows. The others merely traded casual glances, all except Mamie, but Robin knew her landlady well enough by now not to mistake the twinkle in her golden eyes.
Ethan’s attention was explained when he raised his head from the opening prayer and said, “Now, then, ladies, thanks to Robin, you have before you copies of photos of Christmas decorations from one hundred years ago.” He went on to say that she had agreed to act as their historical consultant on this project. That won her smiles from the others, and she relaxed somewhat. “Robin,” he concluded firmly, “will have the final say on all designs.”
Soon they were all deep in conversation about swags, garlands and wreaths, as well as the past tendency to attach meanings to certain types of greenery. Marie started sketching, and Mamie set about estimating the necessary foot length of boughs that would be needed. Before long they had a design and a plan. Nadine divided up the responsibilities, and everyone went along without protest until she came to gathering the greenery itself.
“We’ll take care of that on the Shaw Ranch.”
“Uh, no, we have that covered already,” Ethan said.
“But—”
“The McGuire Ranch has more of what we need,” Mamie stated bluntly.
“You have enough to worry about,” Allison pointed out, “with the wedding and all.”
“Robin and I will take care of the greenery,” Ethan insisted, looping an arm around the back of Robin’s chair.
Just like that, every eye riveted to the pair of them again, and just like that, Robin’s breath caught in her throat.
“We, um, want to leave you and Marie free to concentrate on the wedding,” she offered with a wan smile.
“And I need Robin’s expertise on the specific meanings of the various types of greenery,” Ethan said. The speculation in the eyes around the table did not dim one iota, however.
“Who would really know the difference these days?” Nadine asked.
“I would,” he answered firmly, and that was the end of it.
Robin wondered if Ethan realized that he had just made them the object of conjecture and gossip. Surely he wouldn’t want that, especially if he ever found out why she’d really come to town. A pastor wouldn’t want to be linked to a woman who had come here under false pretenses to meet the family who didn’t even know she existed.
Then again, perhaps she had misjudged him entirely and he would be all too glad for a connection, any connection, no matter how distant, to the first family of Jasper Gulch—that was, if the Shaws didn’t toss her out on her ear the instant they discovered the truth about her great-grandmother Lillian.
Or rather, Lucy.
It occurred to Ethan, belatedly, that the speculation about him and Robin Frazier could serve a purpose. He hadn’t meant to suggest that a romance might be brewing between then, but the presence of a possible love interest could provide him with a shield against unwanted attention. Perhaps, if everyone thought his own interest to be fixed, he could relax, at least for a little while, instead of being on constant alert for lures being cast his way.
The thought buoyed the young pastor so much that within hours the next morning, he had women sewing chrismon symbols out of white fabric and nearly a dozen children lined up for parts in the Christmas pageant to be performed on Christmas Eve. Moreover, he was busy writing a script, dependent largely on scripture, for the reading, which he proposed to do with one man and two women.
He was surprised by how quickly the whole program began to take shape in his mind. He didn’t imagine that Christmas-pageant costuming had actually changed much across the centuries since the time of Christ, but he wanted to copy what had been used in Jasper Gulch one hundred years ago, and he would require Robin’s help to ensure accuracy. Before even that, however, he suddenly found himself in need of some expert advice on historical Hanging of the Green services.
It was an old tradition of mostly European origin, and he’d been through several of them, but he wanted this year’s service to be as authentic as possible as one that might have taken place a hundred years ago in Jasper Gulch. So off to the museum he went on Friday. He stopped off at the diner and picked up a sandwich on the way, arriving close to the lunch hour. Leaving the half-eaten sandwich in the cold car, he went in to find Robin and Olivia sharing brown-bagged meals in the break room.
“Ethan!” Olivia greeted him, smiling broadly over the rim of a steaming cup of soup. Like Robin, she didn’t look much older than a teen, with her petite stature, blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. She’d married Jack McGuire in October at the centennial’s Old Tyme Wedding, to no one’s real surprise. The two had a well-known history that had made them an item from the moment Olivia had stepped foot back into town after an absence of several years. “Jack tells me that you’re coming out Saturday to raid the place for greenery.”
He shot a glance at Robin, who sat staring at a prepackaged potpie on which she’d barely broken the crust. “Yes. Um, Mamie Fidler judges that the McGuire Ranch has the greatest variety of greenery hereabouts.”
“She’s right,” Olivia said, stirring her soup. “There’s cedar, which symbolizes royalty, fir and pine for everlasting life, holly, which represents the ultimate mission of Christ on the cross, and ivy, a symbol of resurrection. All would have been well known, I imagine, to anyone halfway versed in the traditions of the church a hundred years ago.”
“More so than today, it would seem,” Ethan muttered.
“Don’t forget the bells,” Robin put in. “Bells to signify the birth of royalty.”
Ethan shared a conspiratorial smile with her as Olivia said, “And I thought jingle bells were just for fun.”
He cleared his throat and mused, “Obviously, you two have already done excellent research.” He looked to Robin then and added, “I don’t suppose we could find an order of service or program for the Hanging of the Green ceremony, could we?”
She didn’t even have to think it over. “From a hundred years ago? Doubtful. If such a thing exists, it would be in your files.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing there. At least not that I can find.”
“We might find something online from another church in another part of the country, if that will be of help to you.”
“I
