His Christmas Bride

“I figured we wouldn’t get out of it,” Matthew said. “Never let it be said that a little rain could keep our mom from her holiday celebration.”

“At least you aren’t the newest matchmaking target.”

Matthew laughed the laugh of someone who’d been there. “Stay strong, brother.”

As they stepped into the garage, Caroline and Jenna were holding the tree upright while Logan crouched below, twisting the braces of the tree stand into its trunk.

“Could you two hold that thing straight?” Logan called up from the bottom.

“Come on, Nature Boy, don’t you know how to deal with trees once they’re cut down?” Caroline chided.

“I can with some proper help. Who cut this trunk, anyway? It’s crooked.”

Jenna caught Dylan’s eye and laughed, and even he couldn’t resist smiling at that. Logan, the resident park ranger among them, had cut the tree himself. They rested it on its side so Logan could even up the trunk and remove the lowest branches. Then, with several hands and a lot of grumbling, they finally secured the tree in its stand with only a slight lean.

Their work finished, they filed into the house, leaving their boots and soaked coats near the door.

“Everyone in here,” Trina told them, ushering them into the family room, where Amy sat on the edge of the brick hearth.

Although they’d had only minutes to put the party together, the mothers had risen to the occasion. Now orange and yellow flames danced in the gas fireplace, strains of recorded Christmas carols filtered from the stereo speakers, and a spread of finger sandwiches and snacks rested on the side table. And because no Warren-Scott gathering would be complete without them, two of his mother’s famous cakes were arranged on cake stands.

They were preparing to say grace when the doorbell rang, and Matthew hurried to let Reverend Leyton Boggs and his wife inside. They conferred in hushed voices as they hung up their coats and then made their way into the family room, their faces stoic.

“Is everything all right, Reverend?” Amy Warren asked.

The minister smiled in that comforting way he’d used in every memorial service Dylan had ever attended. Something was wrong.

“Late this afternoon, there was a fire downtown that destroyed a young family’s home,” Reverend Boggs began. “Brad and Kelly Denton were already struggling since Brad was laid off from his job, and their car wasn’t running, so this fire came at a particularly tough time. The home was rented, and they had no insurance.”

“How awful for them,” Jenna said. “Do they have children?”

Lila Boggs nodded. “Two boys. Seven-year-old twins named Connor and Ryan. But praise God, they all got out safely.”

“Yes, praise Him for that.” The minister told how the Dentons had been trying to provide at least a simple Christmas for their sons, only to have their few gifts go up in flames along with the rest of their possessions.

Empathetic murmurs filled the room as the minister told more of the specifics. But Dylan barely heard the details. The story made him so uncomfortable that he found it hard to sit still. A family already limping along through life now had the burden and indignity of being homeless at Christmas. He’d heard dozens of those tragic holiday stories before, but this one touched him in a special way.

It had to be the mention of those two little boys that spoke to him. His heart ached as he imagined the confusion they had to feel after today’s events, after the security blankets of home and safety had been ripped from them. He’d known a day like that once himself: the day his father left. At twelve years old, he’d been older than these boys, but he remembered how powerless and small he’d felt. How frightened he’d been that his world would never the right again. Now he grieved for these children, who’d lost their childhood just as he had.

“I spoke with the Dentons by phone, and then Lila and I drove them to the Markston Inn for the night. I paid for their night’s stay with church emergency-relief funds,” Reverend Boggs was saying when Dylan tuned back in to the conversation.

“But they’re going to need more than temporary help. We’ve offered on behalf of the church to adopt this family through the holidays, so I’ll be seeking support from church members like yourselves…” He let his words trail away as he waited for someone to step up to the challenge.

“Of course, we’ll help,” Dylan’s mother answered. “We’ve been looking for a Christian service project, so we’ll make a donation.”

“That’s a great idea,” Logan said, and the others chimed in their agreement.

“I knew I could count on the Warrens and, of course, the Scotts.” The minister smiled. “I’m sure this young family will appreciate whatever you can give.”

Neither the accolades nor his mom’s best chocolate walnut torte sat well with Dylan tonight. He felt as if they were all taking the easy way out—himself included. What they were willing to offer just didn’t feel like enough.

Reverend Boggs glanced at the wall clock. “Some Indianapolis news vans were at the scene of the fire, so the story should make the ten-o’clock news.”

“Hey, somebody turn it on,” Logan called out.

Dylan stretched toward the sofa table and retrieved the remote, flicking on the flat-screen television in the corner.

“The holidays will be a little less bright for a young Markston family who narrowly escaped tragedy today when a blaze broke out in their northside rental home,” said a reporter whose bright red coat appeared too festive for the somber news.

As the reporter continued her story, the camera panned first to the smoldering structure and then to the couple and their sons, huddled together in the chilly rain with blankets draped over their shoulders.

No longer hungry, Dylan set his plate aside. The story had been stirring enough, but to put faces to the tragedy brought the sad situation right into the family room. He’d pictured those children in his mind, but on the screen they appeared smaller than he’d imagined. Defenseless. Their bright eyes peeked out from beneath their parents’ arms as they watched the firefighters wage a losing battle with the blaze.

Stark reality was clear on Brad and Kelly Denton’s faces. Dylan remembered that his mother wore an expression like that during the early days after his father left. Matthew had looked that same way after his first wife had deserted him and Lizzie. The Dentons might have escaped with their lives, but the young couple, like his mother and his brother, had been unable to protect their children from life’s unfortunate truths.

In the next shot the reporter was standing with the family, all of them under the shelter of two large umbrellas. Brad Denton squeezed the boy next to him and said, “We feel blessed that we all got out safely. As long as we’re together, we’ll figure out the rest.”

Dylan could only stare at the screen. He’d been feeling sorry for himself all night when people like the Dentons, who had real problems and every right to their own pity party, were counting their blessings. He’d forgotten to count his.

Around him the room had fallen silent as the news broadcast moved to commercial break.

“It’s a sad story,” Reverend Boggs began again as Dylan shut off the television. “Still, I feel God has a blessing planned here. I’m sorry to run, but I need to call some of the other church members.”

“It won’t be necessary to make any more calls, Reverend.” Dylan waited as the others turned their surprised expressions his way. He couldn’t blame them—he wasn’t usually the idea man in this crowd, but he had to be this time. No one else was stepping forward, and he couldn’t turn his back on those little boys.

“Look at all of us.” He held his hands wide to indicate the size of the group. “Sure, we can write a check, but I think we can do a lot more.” Out of the corner of his eye, Dylan could see Jenna watching him, a strange expression on her face. He pressed on. “Between our two families, we should volunteer to adopt the Dentons ourselves.”

Everyone spoke up at once—that is, everyone except Jenna. She was too busy staring at Dylan, who didn’t sound at all like the Dylan she’d once called her best friend. Who was this take-charge guy? Her Dylan would have been more than happy to let other people make plans and then join in for the ride.

That he’d spoken aloud the exact idea she’d been bouncing around in her head surprised her even more. How could they not do more for that poor family? Her worries about reconnecting with Dylan seemed small when compared to those of these young parents who had no place to live and no way to feed and clothe their children. It wasn’t right for her to warm herself by the fire while this family had been huddled under blankets, trying to shield their children from the cold.

“He’s right,” Matthew said, his voice rising above the rest. “We have so much. We don’t need anything for Christmas. The Dentons will need everything.”

“That’s a great idea,” Haley chimed in.

“We have to help them,” Jenna told them. Her throat clogged with emotion as she tried to put herself in the shoes of those young parents. She could only imagine the hopelessness they felt.

Mrs. Warren stood up, shaking her head. “I don’t know. That’s a big project you’re taking on, Dylan. We can help, but it might be better if we spread the load among various church members.” She frowned as if realizing more pitfalls. “And we would have to cancel some of our holiday plans—”

“Not cancel, Mom,” Dylan said, standing beside her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Just tweak. Remember, you wanted us to spend quality time with the Scotts during the holidays, and what could be better than spending that time helping others?”

“We wanted to share our Christmas traditions, too.” Mrs. Warren’s face fell in disappointment.

“And we will,” Dylan assured her. “Some of them.”

“We already have,” Logan said. “We found the tree.”

Mrs. Warren shrugged as she sat on the hearth. “If you’re sure we can handle that much work…”

“Of course we can.” Dylan nodded as if to emphasize his words. His mother’s reticence appeared to surprise him. Jenna, too, found the woman’s reaction strange. Mrs. Warren was one of the most kind-hearted people she knew, so Jenna assumed something else was bothering her.

“What did you have in mind?” Matthew asked after a long pause.

“We could put some of the money and effort we would have used for Mom’s great list of activities toward making Christmas bright for someone else.”

Although Dylan glanced his mother’s way, the first response came from someone smaller.

“Do we have to give away our Christmas tree?” Lizzie asked, her eyes sad.

“Of course not, silly.” Dylan crossed the room and scooped up his niece. “But don’t you think that other family should have a nice Christmas, too?”

When she nodded, he tugged on one of her braids and lowered her to the floor. Jenna couldn’t help smiling at the sweet gesture. Dylan really seemed to adore Lizzie. The two of them had been so inseparable at the wedding that Jenna had been ashamed to be jealous of a child.

He turned to the minister. “Now, Reverend, you and Mrs. Boggs have met the Dentons. Can you give us an idea of what their needs are?”

“You’ll need to start with the basics. Food, clothing and shelter. Lila and I are planning to meet with the family for breakfast tomorrow morning to find out the specifics. We wanted them to rest tonight.”

Dylan nodded. “Would you mind if a few of us joined you so you could introduce us?”

“That might be best,” Lila answered for her husband.

“You should go, Dylan.” Matthew gestured toward him from the sofa. “This was your idea.”

Dylan appeared surprised by his older brother’s suggestion, but he nodded. He was probably as used to Matthew assuming plans in his family as Jenna was with Caroline taking over organizational duties in theirs.

“I would like to go.”

He smiled that boyish Dylan smile that Jenna had missed while he’d been dodging her efforts to talk to him all evening. He hadn’t been mean exactly, unless treating her as if she was invisible counted as mean. She marveled at his compassion for the Dentons. She could only hope that one day he would send some of that kindness her way and finally forgive her.

Jenna realized that she’d never thought to appreciate Dylan for the gift he was. She wished he would give her the chance to tell him how sorry she was for that and to show him she wasn’t the same selfish person he used to know. God had made sure of that change.

“Who else would like to join us for breakfast?” Reverend Boggs asked as he took a seat next to his wife.

Jenna’s mother spoke up. “Caroline should go.”

Caroline was already shaking her head when Matthew offered a suggestion.

“Jenna should go. She and Dylan are buddies, and they haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Matthew probably thought he was helping his brother out by offering him an escape from their mothers’ matchmaking efforts, but Dylan looked like a man stuck between two unacceptable choices and hoping for a third.

Jenna jumped in before he found one. “That sounds great. I’d love to have the chance to meet the Dentons.”

She knew better than to look at Dylan because his gaze wouldn’t be tossing daisies at her. Dylan probably thought she’d only accepted Matthew’s suggestion to get the chance to spend time with him, but it was more than that. The Denton family’s story had touched her, too, and she wanted to reach out to them.

“That’s fine,” Dylan said finally, but he didn’t look at her. Instead, he grabbed a legal pad out of the drawer in his mother’s roll-top desk.

“We’ll know more tomorrow, but we can divide up the general areas now. Housing, furniture, clothing and food.” He wrote as he spoke. “If we split into teams, we’ll be able to accomplish more.”

“They should be teams of two, one from each family,” Jenna said the moment the idea popped into her head. “I’ll work with Dylan.”

“Wait.” Amy exchanged a glance with Trina before she turned back to Dylan. “I thought it might be nice if you worked with—”

Caroline stood to interrupt. “I’d like to get the chance to spend time with my new brother-in-law.” She turned to Matthew. “Okay with you?”

“Fine with me.”

“I’ll work with Jenna, then.”

Although Dylan’s tone might have been more enthusiastic if he’d just volunteered to clean Porta-Johns, Jenna was pleased to have won the point. He would probably raise eyebrows if he refused to work with her.

Dylan teamed up the remaining family members, pairing his mother with Jenna’s mother, and Logan with Haley. Because the youngest Warren brother and the youngest Scott sister had been like oil and water together ever since they were in diapers, he assigned Lizzie to work with them to keep the peace. That complete, he started dividing the work.

“I had planned to deal with food, but since I’m working with the premier shopper—” Dylan paused, glancing Jenna’s way “—we’ll take clothing, toiletries and Christmas gifts.”

The minister stood and crossed the room to collect his coat. “Well, Dylan, it looks as if you have this under control. I’ll have to remember your organizational skills the next time we need a new committee leader at church.”

Jenna agreed with the minister’s praise and would have said so, but the look Dylan sent her way made her keep her opinion to herself. Her plan of working on a team with him didn’t seem like such a great idea, after all. Did she really think forcing him to be with her would help her to restore their friendship?

No, she’d gone about this the wrong way. Instead of approaching him slowly and letting him remember why they once were close, she’d forced her way into his space, reminding him of how selfish she’d always been. She’d wanted to prove to him she was different, and all she’d done was show him more of the same.

What was she supposed to do now? Once again, she’d messed things up with Dylan, but she would just have to work within the uncomfortable situation she’d created. She’d committed to helping the Dentons, and she intended to follow through with her commitment. Maybe if Dylan saw that, he would eventually be able to forgive her, after all.

Chapter Three

Brad Denton looked as uncomfortable as a cowboy in a tuxedo as he took a seat next to his wife at Home Cooking Café the next morning. Well, Dylan could relate to his discomfort. As if it wasn’t awkward enough meeting the Dentons for the first time, Jenna was sitting next to him. He wished he could ignore her, but the coconut scent of her shampoo invaded his senses every time she turned her head, and the chime of her laughter filtered into his ears. If only his senses hadn’t picked today to become sharp enough to detect a noise in the next room or hear a butterfly fluttering its wings.

He’d counted on her being a no-show this morning—like all the other times—but that hadn’t worked out for him, either. Why she’d picked this morning to come through on one of her commitments, he wasn’t sure. She wasn’t doing anything halfway, either. They’d barely made it to their seats, and she was already playing hostess, chatting with Lila Boggs and Kelly Denton.

“Do you think we should send out a search party for the boys?” Reverend Boggs asked as he opened his menu.

Brad glanced over his shoulder toward the restroom where Connor and Ryan had hurried before the hostess could seat them. He spoke conspiratorially to Dylan. “Two more minutes and we’re going in.”

The men’s room door opened then, and the boys rushed out, saving the adults from that covert mission. The boys hurried across the room, looking like matching wind-up toys, not technically running—their mother had warned them not to—but close to it.

As the twins scrambled into the two remaining seats at the long table, mischievous grins on their faces, Dylan’s thoughts cleared. He remembered why they were all working together in the first place: for the sake of these little boys. He’d only just met them, and already they inspired a fierce protectiveness in him.

Dylan couldn’t get over the fact that Connor and Ryan were laughing and playing as if they’d already forgotten about yesterday’s fire and were ready for their next adventure. Children were definitely resilient. He knew from experience. But he also knew that they scarred just as deeply as anyone else did.

Those boys and their parents deserved the best his family and the Scotts could offer, and nothing—not even Jenna—should distract him from giving it.

“I sure hope after all that time in there that you two washed your hands,” Kelly said to her sons.

“We did, Mommy.” Only one of them answered, but they both held up their hands.

The waitress took their order, and soon the twins were wolfing down their waffles as if they hadn’t eaten in months. Not true, of course, since their parents had already mentioned the pizza they’d eaten in their hotel room late last night.

“Boys, you need to slow down. This isn’t a race,” Kelly admonished them as she set her fork aside.

Dylan shook his head. “Obviously you weren’t a boy who grew up with brothers. In my house, everything was a race or a contest.”

“I can vouch for that,” Jenna told them. “The Warren brothers competed over who could spit the farthest or cross his eyes the longest, even who had the most ear wax.”

Because Dylan couldn’t help smiling at the shared memory, he was glad she wasn’t looking his way. But she would know about those things. She’d been there for many of those contests and other incidents. He remembered clearly just how important it was to him to win when Jenna was around.

“You really do understand our boys, then,” Brad said.

“It sounds as if you’ve known each other a long time.” Kelly looked back and forth between them, searching for a connection.

“Since birth…or a little before,” Jenna said, smiling.

“Our mothers are best friends, so they stuck us kids together a lot.”

He hadn’t intended the comment to sound so harsh, but he failed, and an awkward silence settled over the table. He suddenly felt bad—he didn’t want to hurt Jenna. He just didn’t want to get pulled back into a friendship that had caused him so much pain. But being around her brought back so many memories, most filled with laughter rather than sadness. It confused and frustrated him that though he knew he should steer clear of her for his own good, part of him was willing to be drawn in again. It didn’t do any good for him to wish he could have found an excuse not to work on a team with Jenna. He simply had to work with the situation as it was.

“Anyway…I think we’ve addressed all the details.” Dylan glanced down at the list of tasks in front of him and then to the list of clothing and shoe sizes next to Jenna’s coffee cup. “Can any of you think of anything we haven’t covered?”

“Will Santa miss us this year because he doesn’t know we’re at a hotel, instead of our old, burned-up house?” Ryan asked, suddenly serious.

Dylan swallowed, his heart aching for the child’s distress. The twins’ concerns might not have been as obvious as those of their parents, but they were there.

The adults glanced at one another across the table. The boys wouldn’t fully understand how much they’d lost in the fire for a while—the memories and surety that they would always be safe. The grown-ups already knew.

Connor tilted his head to the side. “Do you think Santa will get it if we leave a note for him at our old house to tell him where we are now?”

“As long as we put a cookie and some milk with it.” Excitement replaced the worried look on Ryan’s face.

“Hey, those are clever ideas, boys.” Kelly managed a reassuring smile for her sons.

The waitress stopped by the table to leave the check, and Dylan nabbed it before anyone could look at it. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and set his credit card with the bill.

Brad glanced at the credit card that represented a free breakfast, and he gripped his hands together. “I don’t know if all this is the best idea. Your church has already done so much with the hotel room and all.”

Kelly leaned her cheek against her husband’s shoulder. All through breakfast, the two of them had been holding hands. “You’ll have to forgive my husband. It’s hard for him to accept help. We’ve always made our own way before, and…” As her voice broke, she glanced away, dabbing her eyes with her napkin.

“Pride. It’s a tough thing.” Brad tried to laugh, but his voice was thick with emotion. “With me out of work and now…this, we’re not in a position to be able to turn down help, for the boys at least. So thank you for everything.”

“Okay, then,” Dylan said. “First we’ll—”

Brad rushed on as if Dylan hadn’t spoken. “But as soon as we’re able, we’ll repay every cent.”

Reverend Boggs held his hands wide. “Now, Brad, there’s no need to worry about that right now. These two families are just trying to do as our Lord directed to feed and clothe those who need it. You would do the same if the situation were reversed. Remember in Matthew 25:40, Jesus said, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’”

“It’s just hard.” Brad shrugged, not quite on board.

In a surprising move, Jenna reached over and squeezed Brad’s hand. “Think of it as only temporary.” Her smile was warm enough to convince even the most determined person to change his mind. “When you’re back on your feet, you can help out somebody else who’s going through a tough time. That way the help keeps moving.”

When Jenna released his hand, Brad sat straighter in his seat. “Okay. We’ll do that.”

It was all Dylan could do not to stare at her with his mouth gaping open. He’d never seen her like this before, so generous and selfless, so focused on someone else’s need. She was…different.

Don’t go there. You can’t afford to. Not again.

“That’s great.” Jenna pushed back from the table and stood. “Now why don’t you all get back to the hotel? You probably could use a relaxing day after yesterday. We’ll take care of some of these details and have you resettled in no time.”