Their Christmas Prayer

“Oh, the sacrifices we make for family.” No kidding. “So, about this Christmas project...”

“Right. Unless you’ve come up with a brilliant idea to get us out of it, we should probably start brainstorming.”

Brooke perused her computer calendar. “Shall we meet at the doughnut shop for coffee in the morning, say around seven—or is that too early for you?”

“I’m an early riser, or at least I’ve become one since moving in with Kent. See you then.”

Ending the call, Brooke typed in the appointment. A moment later, Inez Quick, the chamber president, tapped on Brooke’s open door. She carried an armful of file folders.

Brooke gave a mock groan. “More stuff I need to familiarize myself with?”

“No rush.” The slender fifty-something woman dropped the stack on Brooke’s desk, then tucked a strand of dark hair into her French twist. “These contain minutes and project reports from several of our committees. Speaking of which, how did your church meeting go last night?”

“Can you spell gullible? Seems the newest kids on the block are prime targets for getting volunteered.” She went on to explain about the Christmas outreach.

With a thoughtful smile, Inez perched on a chair across from Brooke. “Think of it this way. The more in tune you are with the pulse of Juniper Bluff, the more effective you’ll be at this job.”

Loath as she was to admit it, her boss had a point. At least it was easier to swallow than her family’s constant harassment about getting a life. “Problem is, I’m so new in town that I have no idea where to begin.”

Inez reached across the desk for a pen and scratchpad. After jotting some notes, she passed it back to Brooke. “Here’s a list off the top of my head of area agencies that support needy families. Contact a few of them and ask for ways your committee might help.”

Brooke perused the list. “Thanks, this is great.”

Rising, Inez turned to go. “Oh, and feel free to work on the project during office hours as your schedule permits. I meant what I said—this could help you build a few more inroads with the local business community.”

Having her boss’s approval alleviated a few of her concerns about spending time on the project. By the end of the day she’d called every organization on Inez’s list and had also contacted Pastor Terry at Shepherd of the Hills to ask about any particular needs he might be aware of. The responses she’d collected would give her and Shaun more than enough to kick off their planning session. The hard part would be narrowing down the options to what would best fit the abilities and interests of the service committee.

Armed with computer notes full of information from the agencies she’d called, Brooke arrived at Diana’s Donuts the next morning a few minutes before seven. She was surprised to find Shaun already holding a table for them.

“You really are an early bird,” she said as she set down her things.

Shaun smiled over the rim of his coffee mug. “Didn’t want to hold you up in case you were in a hurry to get to work.”

“No worries. I now officially have my boss’s go-ahead for this venture, which means we won’t have to meet at zero dark thirty next time.” She covered a yawn. “Be right back after I get some coffee.”

Diana greeted her at the counter. “Conspiring with the handsome new stranger, I see.”

“Conspiring—really?” Brooke rolled her eyes. Safer not to acknowledge the handsome new stranger remark at all—not that she hadn’t noticed. In fact, the more Shaun’s beard grew out, the more her gaze drifted to his manly chin. “We’re just working together on this church outreach thing.”

“So your dad told me when he and Tripp dropped by here yesterday.” Diana passed Brooke a mug of steaming coffee, then leaned closer, elbows resting on the counter. “I hear he’s a pastor who’s been serving on the mission field. What else have you found out about him?”

“Honestly, you never used to be this gossipy in college.” Lifting her mug, Brooke offered a sugary-sweet smile. “On the house, right? Thank you so much.” She ignored Diana’s raised-eyebrow stare and sauntered back to the table.

Shaun seemed to come out of a daze as she sat down across from him. Straightening, he offered a brief smile. “Ready to get down to business?”

Brooke studied him. “Your heart still isn’t in this, is it?”

“Let’s just say I’m continuing to reserve judgment.”

“Believe me, I understand.” Maybe if she focused less on the Christmas angle and more on the community service aspects, it would be easier to detach from her emotions.

Shaun released a resigned sigh. “I did jot down a few thoughts, though.”

“Good. We can combine your ideas with what I’ve gleaned from area aid organizations.” Yes, let’s keep this all business. She reached into her tote for her tablet computer. Tapping a few icons, she brought up her notes from yesterday’s calls.

“Wow, high-tech.” With a wry laugh, Shaun tugged a folded paper from the pocket of his plaid flannel shirt. “Hope my handwritten jottings aren’t too old-school for you.”

“As long as your hen-scratching is decipherable, I’m good.”

Shaun’s eyes narrowed in feigned offense. “My penmanship is excellent, and I can produce my third-grade report card to prove it.”

Every time a touch of the man’s humor rose to the surface made it easier to like him. Maybe they could actually make this work. Wiggling a brow, she held out her hand for the paper. “I prefer to judge for myself, if you don’t mind.”

He slapped it into her palm, then sat back and smugly crossed his arms.

“Hmm, yes, a graceful slant, nicely rounded letters, clean and confident lines. Quite passable. Well done, Mr. O’Grady.” Her teasing expression turned apologetic. “Excuse me. I guess that should be Reverend O’Grady. I didn’t know until the meeting that you’re a minister.”

Shaun glanced away, his jaw clenched. “Wish Emily hadn’t said anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Brooke murmured, concerned she’d somehow offended him. “I didn’t realize you wanted to keep it private.”

“It’s not that so much.” Drawing a deep breath, Shaun folded his hands on the table. “But people respond to clergy a little differently, and since I didn’t come to Juniper Bluff for anything more than some much needed R and R, I don’t advertise my professional background.”

Brooke nodded. “That helps me understand your reluctance to get involved in this service project. If you really don’t want to do it—”

He interrupted her with a weak laugh. “Hey, if it’ll give me a break from mucking stalls and hauling hay bales, I’m in. So let’s hash out some ideas, okay?”

They spent the next half hour comparing notes and listing the pros and cons of various service possibilities. Brooke quickly discovered they were coming at the project from two very different perspectives—hers shaped by results-oriented efficiency, while Shaun leaned toward the personal aspects. By the time Brooke had to leave for the office, they’d whittled the list down to the top three service projects they could agree on.

“Let’s think on these and meet again in a few days,” she suggested. “I’ll do more research, too.”

Shaun fingered his empty coffee mug, his brows converging to form a pensive crease down the middle of his forehead. “You know, there’s one thing we haven’t done yet, and I’m embarrassed for not suggesting it.”

Brooke looked up from tucking her tablet into her tote. “Oh? What have I missed?”

“We haven’t prayed about what we’re doing.”

Now Brooke was embarrassed, and more than a little ashamed of how her mother’s lengthy illness and death had slowly eroded her prayer life. “You’re right. I can get so focused on the details that I forget to bring God in.”

“But I’ve got no excuse.” Shaun’s mouth twisted in a pained smile, and he lowered his voice. “I’m a pastor, remember?”

The resignation in his blue-gray stare shifted something in Brooke’s heart. Diana was right—there was much more to Shaun O’Grady than met the eye. “Would you like to say a prayer now?”

Shaun bowed his head, and Brooke did the same. “Lord, we’re two newcomers to this town and church, but for whatever reason, we’ve been called upon to serve. Guide us and help us to do our best for You and for those who will be blessed by our efforts. In Your Son’s name, amen.”

“Thank you,” Brooke said, a catch in her voice. “Remind me to have you pray at each of our meetings.”

“We could take turns, you know.”

“Uh, no, that’s okay. You’re the pro in the prayer department.” With a quick breath, she stood and slid the strap of her tote to her shoulder.

Walking out together, they agreed to meet again on Saturday, and Brooke hurried across the square to the chamber office. There, at least, she could pretend for a while that she had everything under control.

Chapter Three

The next few days had Shaun overanalyzing everything about Wednesday’s meeting with Brooke—including his openness to pray. Proved he and God were still on speaking terms, anyway, even if he was still light-years away from discerning the Lord’s plan for his life.

Walking one of Kent’s horses out to pasture on Saturday morning, he gave the gentle sorrel mare a scratch under the chin. Posey snorted her appreciation, her warm breath forming clouds in the chilly air. “You’ve got it good here, girl,” Shaun said as he unbuckled her halter. “Maybe if I spent my days munching grass and rolling in the dust, life wouldn’t seem so complicated.”

“Talking to horses is good therapy.”

Shaun turned to find Kent grinning at him across the fence rail. “One thing’s for sure—they don’t give me grief like my future brother-in-law.”

Kent released the gate latch and waited for Shaun to amble out. “Thought you were meeting with Brooke again today.”

“We’re having an early lunch at the supermarket deli.” He looped the halter and lead rope over the rail. “Which means I need to finish my chores pretty quick and clean up.”

“Work any harder around here and I won’t know what to do after you move on.”

Laughing, Shaun started back to the barn. “Maybe hire someone you’ll actually pay?”

“Room and board’s not enough for you?” Kent gave him a playful slug in the arm. “If you’re holding out for cable TV and maid service, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

They traded a few more friendly gibes before Kent saddled Jasmine and rode out to check on his cattle, and Shaun got busy mucking stalls.

He’d enjoyed getting to know Kent over the past few weeks. Watching him with Erin evoked not only joy at seeing his sister so happy after her failed first marriage but a twinge of envy as well. Serving on the mission field, Shaun had encountered more than a few single women his age who shared both his faith and his passion for those in need. He’d even had a couple of relationships he thought might actually go somewhere.

But something always held him back. In one case, it was because he’d felt the call to transfer elsewhere, but she hadn’t sensed the same leading. His second time around, they ultimately agreed their personality differences would only lead to problems down the road. But a huge factor for Shaun was the fear of divided loyalties. Could he sustain a healthy marriage while also devoting himself to mission service? And what of children? Starting a family involved a whole different set of decisions.

Now here he was, ankle-deep in soiled shavings and doing nothing remotely close to the plans and goals he’d set for himself as a seminary student. Was that the root of his current dissatisfaction—that he’d rushed ahead with his own agenda instead of listening more closely for God’s direction?

He couldn’t deny he’d experienced a sense of peace and relief when he’d first returned to the States and Greg had suggested he spend some time in Juniper Bluff. So maybe his stay here—yes, even the Christmas outreach project—was part of God’s will.

As for meeting Brooke Willoughby? Guess he’d have to wait and see.

Two hours later, he climbed into the battered green hatchback he’d held onto since college, mainly so he’d have something to drive during his stateside visits. Arriving at the deli, he claimed a table to wait for Brooke. When she sauntered in, curls loose about her shoulders and wearing a tunic-length striped sweater over black leggings, he allowed himself an appreciative grin. Working on this project with someone as sharp and as pretty as Brooke Willoughby definitely earned a mark in the plus column.

Pulling out the chair across from him, she nodded as he stood to welcome her. “I like a guy who’s prompt.”

“Don’t get used to it. A fresh deli sandwich just sounded a lot more appealing than another PB and J with Kent.”

Brooke laughed as she set her tote next to her chair. “Can’t blame you. Shall we talk first or get some lunch?”

“Breakfast was a long time ago. I vote for lunch,” Shaun said over his rumbling stomach. “Tell me what you’d like and I’ll place our order.”

He returned shortly with two sandwiches, potato chips and iced teas. “The one with the straw is your sweet tea,” he said. “Everything else is the same.”

Unwrapping her sandwich, Brooke cast him a smile. “You got the ham and Swiss on rye, too?”

“My favorite. And sour-cream-and-onion chips—missed those like crazy overseas.” Shaun ripped open the bag.

“Not a fan of sweet tea, though?”

He grimaced. “Makes my mouth pucker.”

Remembering his commitment to start these meetings with prayer, he offered thanks for the meal and asked the Lord to bless their discussion. Considering how long it had taken them to narrow down their top-three list the other morning, agreeing on a single best plan of action would require God’s help in abundance.

They settled into comfortable silence while they ate. The way Brooke held her sandwich just so, keeping the bottom half in the wrapper so the juices didn’t drip, then dabbing the corners of her lips after every bite, Shaun couldn’t picture her ever being comfortable in a Third World country. And since it looked more and more like his sabbatical would be over by the end of the year, whatever other common likes or dislikes they might discover were moot.

Finishing the last bite of her sandwich, Brooke wadded up the wrapper. “Guess we should get started.”

After another swig of tea, Shaun reached beneath his chair for the steno pad he’d been using to collect his thoughts.

He watched with amusement while Brooke cleared a space on the small table for her tablet computer with attached keyboard. She laid her cell phone beside it. After several keystrokes and a few scowls and hmms while she appeared to search for her notes, she looked up with a satisfied smile. “Okay, all set.”

With great flourish, Shaun flipped open his steno pad and whipped a ballpoint pen from his shirt pocket. “Me, too.”

Her scowl returned, but a teasing glint flashed in her eyes. “You’re purposely trying to annoy me, I can tell.”

“Who, me?” What was it about this woman that brought out his playful side? Or was he merely growing more and more relaxed the longer he stayed in Juniper Bluff? Either way, it was a welcome change. He sat back and crossed his arms. “Since you’re so organized, why don’t you go first?”

“I will, thank you.” Brooke arched a brow as she turned her attention to her tablet screen. “Of the top three ideas we’d settled on, I’m leaning toward collecting grocery items and delivering them to needy families so they can make their own Christmas dinner. One of the agencies I contacted said they could provide some names.”

“Christmas dinner? Is that the best we can do?” Shaun had already crossed that idea off his list. All humor evaporating, he flipped to the page where he’d jotted his reasons. “Donating a few turkeys, yams and cans of cranberry sauce sounds easy and doable. But it’s one meal. So we do our good deed for the holiday and feel good about ourselves for the rest of the year, while these families face another year of wondering how they’re going to feed their kids or keep a roof over their heads? Sorry, that doesn’t work for me.”

Brooke stiffened. “Obviously, you have strong feelings about this. I wish you’d said something before we included that option on our list.”

He hadn’t meant to offend her, but clearly he had. He lifted both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’ve had more time to think about it, that’s all, and I think we can do better. I’d rather we choose something that will benefit the recipients for more than a single day.”

Lips pursed, Brooke typed something into her tablet. “Okay, one of our other ideas was organizing a Christmas store. We talked about collecting toys, clothing and other items, and then bringing families in to select Christmas gifts for each other—things they’d be able to use year-round.” She shot him a raised-eyebrow glare that communicated, I dare you to shoot this one down.

He drew a deep breath. “On the surface, it seems like a good plan. But you know what they say. Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day—”

“Teach a man to fish and he’ll never go hungry.” Brooke nodded briskly. “I get it, okay? But this is just a Christmas outreach. That’s all we signed up for. We’re not out to save the world.”

Fist clenched in his lap, Shaun glanced away. “Just doesn’t cut it for me, Brooke. Never has, never will.” Scooting his chair back, he gathered up his pen and steno pad along with the trash from his lunch. “Sorry to cut this short, but I told Kent I’d mow his lawn this afternoon. I should get going.”

What just happened here? Brooke picked up her jaw before it crashed onto her tablet keyboard. She swiveled in time to see Shaun toss his trash into the nearest receptacle before he marched out of the deli.

“We never even got to idea number three,” she muttered, her gaze shooting daggers at Shaun’s rapidly retreating back. Oh, well, he probably had a dozen reasons why he didn’t like that one, either.

Then why hadn’t he said something the other day when they were first paring down their list?

Her glance fell upon a nearby display of baked goods, where a tin of chocolate-frosted brownies sprinkled with walnuts caught her eye. Unable to resist, she hurried to stow her tablet and dispose of her trash, then took the brownies to the deli cashier. Five minutes later, she sat in her car with the open container on her lap. She was just about frustrated enough to eat the whole batch.

Sanity prevailed, however, and she stopped at two. After finding a used tissue to wipe crumbs and frosting off her lips and fingers, she decided some retail therapy was in order. Maybe not as good for her wallet but much better for the waistline. She headed downtown and parked at one end of Main Street across from the town square.

Two ladies’ boutiques, a card shop and the drugstore later, she now owned a new pair of silver hoop earrings and two bottles of nail polish. The next shop, WE Design, boasted a window display of handmade baskets amid autumn leaves and colorful gourds. While Brooke gnawed her lower lip and wondered if Shaun’s sister had made these baskets, an auburn-haired woman juggling an art portfolio and a huge cardboard box stumbled toward the entrance.

“Let me get the door for you,” Brooke offered, recognizing Erin Dearborn from the Sunday school class. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Thank you!” Sparkling blue eyes peeked over the top of the box. “It’s not as heavy as it looks, just bulky.”

As Brooke held the door, the petite woman edged through. A glimpse inside the crate revealed several different-sized baskets. “You’re Shaun O’Grady’s sister, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and you’re Brooke from the chamber. Hi, nice to see you again.”

A million questions racing through her head, Brooke followed Erin inside. Maybe Shaun’s sister could give her a little more insight into what made the guy tick.

Behind the counter, a buxom woman in a full, flowing skirt was completing a phone call. She stepped around to relieve Erin of the box. “Mrs. Yates just called to reschedule her living-room consultation for Monday morning. Said she forgot about the church seniors trip to Kerrville today.”

Church seniors trip—must be the same one Brooke’s dad had signed up for. Seemed his social life was going gangbusters since they moved to Juniper Bluff.

Erin set down her portfolio. “Oh, good. That gives me more time to fine-tune my presentation.” She turned to Brooke with a smile. “Let me introduce Wanda Flynn, the other half of WE Design.”

Wanda offered her hand. “Redecorating is our specialty. Is there a project we can help you with?”

“Actually, I was hoping Erin could spare a few minutes. I’m Brooke Willoughby. Shaun and I—”

“Yes, the church committee. I’m so glad you two are working together.” Erin leaned closer, her tone becoming secretive. “He’d never admit it, but he really needs this.”

Maybe so, but Brooke didn’t need the man’s uncompromising attitude. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Ten minutes later, they sat across from each other at Diana’s Donuts. Brooke had wisely left her remaining brownies in the car, but control had gone out the window since lunch, and she couldn’t resist a caramel latte with whipped cream. Watching Erin sip Earl Grey with nothing but a dash of honey, Brooke suffered a twinge of guilt but quickly brushed it aside. She had more pressing matters on her mind than counting calories.

“I assume you want to talk about my brother,” Erin said with a guarded smile.

“I’m just trying to understand him.” Brooke dabbed whipped cream from her lips. “We met over lunch to discuss this outreach project but couldn’t agree on anything.”

“I guess it’s pretty obvious Shaun is an idealist, especially when it comes to making people’s lives better.”

“Which I’m sure served him well on the mission field. But this is small-town Juniper Bluff, and we’re just one teensy church committee.” Brooke’s frustration boiled over again. “Just. That’s the exact word he used. He said just doesn’t cut it for him.”

“Sounds like Shaun. He’s never done anything halfway. Kent, my fiancé, even jokes about how hard Shaun works at the ranch.”

Another sip of the caramel latte left a cloying taste in Brooke’s mouth. She set the mug aside and folded her hands. “So how do I work with him without losing my mind? I don’t want to disappoint the service committee, but if he isn’t willing to bend a little, this project is dead in the water.”

“I wish I had answers for you.” Sighing, Erin rested her forearms on the table. “When Shaun came home from the mission field at the end of the summer, he was a real mess—angry, discouraged, totally burned out. That’s why our brother Greg brought him to Juniper Bluff. We’re hoping his time here will give him some perspective and help him figure out where God wants him.”

So he was merely biding his time, hoping for an answer to drop out of the sky? Typically preferring action over indecisiveness, Brooke wasn’t sure she could relate. She raised her hands in surrender and leaned back in her chair. “Okay, I’ll try to keep an open mind. But Christmas isn’t that far away, and we need to agree on a plan sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll try talking to him, too. Just be patient. If you’re willing to give his ideas a chance, I know this will all work out for the best.” With a quick glance at the time, Erin drained the last of her tea. “I should get back to the shop, but I’m glad we had a chance to talk, and I hope we’ll become good friends.”

“I’d like that.” Brooke stood to share a parting hug with Erin. “And thanks for giving me some insight into Shaun.”

“I promise, once you get to know him, you’ll see what a great guy he is.”

Brooke could only nod and hope Erin was right. Much as she respected and admired Shaun for his missionary service, and even though she did find his quirky sense of humor appealing, she had no intention of allowing his personal issues to sabotage the Christmas outreach.