His Christmas Redemption Read online

  Just try telling that to Lance. She shifted her weight, trying to see the best way to scoot herself off the couch and move around. She could hear laughter coming from the kitchen. It seemed selfish to spoil their fun by calling out for them. But no sooner had she flipped the lever to put the foot of the recliner down than Lance stepped into the living room, wearing the reindeer apron the boys had purchased for her last Christmas.

  “Let me help you,” he said.

  “What are you guys doing in there?”

  He shrugged. “Making cookies. The boys showed me a Christmas binder, and while I know you want to be part of the cookie-making process, there are a lot of cookies to be baked, so we went ahead and started. What do you need to make so many Christmas cookies for, anyway?”

  Lance had started making the cookies? “You don’t know how to make anything that doesn’t come out of a box.”

  “They say necessity is the mother of invention. It’s too expensive to eat out all the time, and I don’t like eating frozen dinners day in and day out. So I watched a few videos on the internet and, while I’ll never be a chef, I won’t starve.”

  “You were good at grilling,” she said. Then she added, “Our church has refreshments every Sunday after the service. But they also like to do something a little special for the holidays. Baking cookies relaxes me, so I volunteered to do extra this year. I’m just glad my day to bring them wasn’t today. At least we’ll have them for next week.”

  She tried not to sound discouraged as she spoke. Before her nap, she’d sounded so whiny that she’d gotten on her own nerves. Even now she was trying not to let the situation get the best of her. It had been a silly accident and she needed to find a way to look on the bright side.

  “I didn’t realize you started going to church again,” he said.

  He looked like he was going to add something argumentative but then he stopped. The counselor had recommended they go to church together, but Lance had informed her that he saw no point in chasing after a God who could be so cruel as to take their child from them.

  “It’s been a great way for us to get involved in our community. Pastor Roberts is a wonderful teacher and we’ve all grown a lot closer to the Lord thanks to him. I’ve never been part of a place where the people were so warm and welcoming.”

  The hesitation on his face was confirmation of just how far apart they’d grown and why she couldn’t see them having a future together. Maybe, for all the doubts she’d had about their divorce, having him there now was what she needed as confirmation of what had truly become important in her life.

  “I don’t believe in God anymore,” he said.

  Erin took a deep breath. “I know. But that’s something for the two of you to work out. If you’d rather not help with the cookies, I understand. Even though everyone I know is busy with their own holiday preparations, I’m sure I can find someone to help me.”

  Though she’d put a cheerful tone in her voice, she knew that many of the people from church already had too many commitments on their plates. She’d ended up signing up to make extra because they hadn’t had enough people who could do it.

  “It’s just cookies,” he said. “It’s not like I have to go—” He stopped. “I’m going to have to take you to church, aren’t I?”

  She honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. She would like to go to church, but she was already asking a lot of Lance. She’d seen the look on his face when she’d explained about Lily’s bear becoming Ryan’s.

  “I’ll try to find a ride. My boss, Ricky, drives right past here on his way. If he can’t pick us up, maybe you could just drop us off and then go have a cup of coffee and pastry. There’s a great café in town that has the best bear claws.”

  Lance gave her a funny look. “I like bear claws.”

  If it were anyone but Lance, she’d have hugged him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hug him, but because it was Lance, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to leave his arms after being in them again. She’d already struggled with it when he’d brought her into the house. It was hard being so close to someone she’d loved for so long...their relationship was now so different.

  He helped her into the kitchen, where the boys were making shapes out of dough. It wouldn’t have been her first choice, but she could see Lance’s laptop perched on the counter with the video paused.

  How was she supposed to remain immune to him? That’s what she’d never been able to understand about Lance. How could you not like a man who didn’t know how to cook, hated Christmas, but was willing to go online and watch videos to learn how to bake Christmas cookies for a woman in need?

  “Here, Auntie Erin,” Ryan said, handing her a glob of dough. “You have to make it into candy cane shapes.”

  As she got closer, she realized that they had white and red dough that they were making into ropes and then twisting into a candy cane shape.

  “Candy cane cookies?” she asked. “I haven’t had these in ages.”

  “You used to make these cookies—”

  When we were married. At least that’s what Erin thought Lance was about to say. He used to tell her that they were his favorite cookies. His grandmother had made them for him. And Erin, wanting to do something nice for him, had made them. Personally she’d never liked them. But she’d always made them for Lance. She hadn’t made them since their divorce. There wasn’t any point given that Lance had been the only one who’d liked them. She should have known this would have been his default choice. It just hadn’t occurred to her how much that choice would affect her.

  It was strange, remembering the simple thing she’d done for him to put that look of happiness on his face. He might not understand the big deal about Christmas but, for Erin, the big deal, at least in terms of why all this meant so much to her, was that there was nothing like the expression of joy on someone’s face when they realized that you’d taken the time to think of them and do something special for them.

  Erin, who had spent so much of her life as the middle child, not being noticed in the same way as her siblings, liked to make sure everyone felt noticed. Important. And Christmas was the perfect time to show people in very special ways what they meant to her.

  Lance might think her vision of the perfect Christmas was silly, but he’d never been as sentimental as she was.

  While she had never intended for Lance to remain a part of her holiday traditions, God had him there for a reason. Even though she hadn’t been able to think of any sort of peace he might need from her or she from him, obviously God had something different in mind for this holiday season. She just prayed that whatever it was, when her sisters returned and life was back to normal, it wouldn’t hurt so much to say goodbye to Lance again.

  Chapter Three

  If Lance hadn’t once been married to Erin, he’d have thought her giant Christmas planner a joke. But when it came to Erin and her planners, she was dead serious. The only trouble was, Lance wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish all the items on her list. It was tempting to simply do the items that were easy and skip the rest, but that would mean Erin would just find a way to do them herself.

  And judging from the way her face scrunched up in pain when she tried to stretch the time period between medication, her injury was still bothering her a couple days after the accident. It was to be expected, but not when you were Erin and you had a list.

  That was why Lance found himself standing on the front porch, wrapped in winter gear after picking up the boys from school. It had remained cold enough after the snow that Erin was determined to check off one of the items on her list—sledding.

  The boys ran out from the barn, carrying an old sled. “Here it is, Uncle Lance.”

  Erin came stomping onto the porch. To go outside, Lance had layered garbage bags over her boot to keep her foot dry, but it made it more difficult for her to maneuver.

  “That hi
ll over there is good for sledding,” she said, pointing to a nice area in front of the house. “I can stay here on the porch and watch you guys.”

  She didn’t look happy about it and he didn’t blame her. After all, sledding was fun. They’d often gone with friends to a giant hill near their house. The passing thought brought an ache to his heart.

  A few months before Erin had gotten pregnant they’d gone sledding together. It had been the most wonderful day and Lance could still remember cuddling by the crackling fire with Erin, talking about how someday they’d bring their kids to do the same.

  Only it hadn’t ever happened.

  Lily had died before she was old enough to enjoy the giant sledding hill.

  He glanced over at Erin. Did she remember?

  Maybe it didn’t matter to her the way it did to him. But remembering, at least for him, was what made it so difficult to move on and find peace. It was easy to go on with his life, being angry with Erin. However his anger was only part of the story. The other part was the great love he’d once had for her and not understanding how it could so easily be gone. How she could just walk away from it. And why, as much as she had hurt him, he could still cling to those memories and wish things had turned out differently.

  Dylan handed him the sled. Even though it wouldn’t have been Lance’s first choice, it looked safe enough. Lance glanced over at Erin.

  She gave him a smile and gestured at the hill. “Go on. I don’t know why, but it’s always seemed to me that sledding makes it more Christmassy. We don’t always have enough snow around Christmas, so I’m excited to give the boys a chance.”

  Erin sat on the chair he’d brought out for her then took the camera from around her neck and held it up. “Leah will be sad to have missed it, but I’ll get some great pictures for her.”

  When they’d been married, Erin had often told him that a picture couldn’t replace being there. She’d been angry with him for all the time he’d spent at work. In their fights leading up to the divorce, she’d mentioned it more than once. Their daughter had just died and she’d wanted to rub it in about all the things he’d missed.

  Maybe she was right. But he’d been doing his best, trying to provide a life for their family. He’d always thought that as the business grew, and Lily got older, it would be easier to take the time off that he needed. He just hadn’t counted on not having the opportunity to watch his daughter grow up. He’d never thought that the someday he’d been counting on wouldn’t ever come.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at the boys. They had picked up some snow and were tossing small snowballs at each other.

  Erin must have sensed where his attention had gone. “It’s okay. We’ve talked to the boys about safety and they know it’s okay to throw snowballs, as long as they’re little ones and you have the other person’s permission.”

  She sounded so prim as she spoke, the great rule enforcer. But the two of them had gotten into enough snowball fights of their own that Lance knew Erin didn’t always fight fair.

  He bent and picked up a little bit of snow, carefully shaping it into a ball as he walked toward her.

  “Don’t tell me that’s for me,” she said, looking at him sternly. “You wouldn’t harm a poor, defenseless woman, would you?”

  He grinned. “That’s never stopped you before.”

  Erin glanced over at the boys. “That was in the past. And my sisters and I have agreed that all our snowball fights would be fair.”

  Lance could attest to the sheer brutality of their competitiveness when it came to games and things like snowball fights. That was odd, considering how well they all got along otherwise. If the brothers took after the sisters, Lance could see why they would need to institute rules on fairness.

  “But I’m not your sister,” he said, coming closer.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Until that moment he hadn’t been planning on using the snowball against her. But there was something about the gleam in her eyes that felt like an irresistible dare.

  He tossed the snowball in her direction. It hit her square in the chest.

  Erin jumped up. “You’re going to regret that.”

  She hobbled over to the porch railing and grabbed some of the snow that was still there. It was good snow. The soft, fluffy kind that made for easy packing. It would have been easy to walk away, or at least to dodge her attack. But it had been a long time since Lance had seen that look in her eyes and he’d be a fool if he didn’t admit that it was one of the most beautiful things he’d seen in a long time. It wasn’t that Erin was pretty. Because pretty wasn’t the right word for her. There was something strong, fierce and incredibly awe-inspiring in her eyes. The expression was what had attracted him to Erin in the first place, because he knew that if you were fortunate enough to have the love of a woman like that, you had more than most men ever dreamed of.

  A snowball hit him smack in the face.

  That was a good reminder of the downside to loving a woman like Erin.

  Lance picked up another handful of snow. Erin scooped more from the railing.

  “Do you really want to do this?” she asked. “Because I will win.”

  Snowballs went sailing at the same time and while Erin’s hit him square in the chest, his missed.

  “You still want to mess with me?” she asked.

  “Uncle Lance!” Dylan came running to him. “When we were in the house getting ready, you said we couldn’t get Aunt Erin. The snow will hurt her cast.”

  Ryan followed his brother. “You can’t get Auntie!”

  The boys both picked up snow and made snowballs that they tossed directly at Lance.

  The snow hit Lance with a resounding thud. Erin laughed. “That’s what you get for breaking the rules.”

  Lance shook his head as he brushed the snow off. “I can definitely see where I didn’t think that idea through well enough.”

  “You should say you’re sorry and give her a hug,” Dylan said, looking at him sternly.

  When he looked at Erin, she was still wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and Lance didn’t think she’d heard the little boy.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, buddy,” Lance said.

  Innocent eyes looked up at him. “Why not? Mom says hugs are always a good idea,” Dylan said. Then Dylan frowned. “Unless the person doesn’t want a hug, and then you should respect their wishes. But auntie loves hugs.”

  As if his lecture settled the matter, both Dylan and Ryan ran to Erin and hugged her. Erin smiled as she looked over their heads at him. “I do love hugs,” she said. “But we don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable. At least now you know that we take our rules very seriously here, and you shouldn’t even think about messing with me.”

  Her tone was light and there was understanding in her eyes. He’d been trying to have fun, they both had, but it was amazing how even the smallest things became difficult reminders of their complicated past. Maybe, even though it seemed like they were both trying to move forward, making peace wasn’t as easy as his therapist had led him to believe.

  So what did peace look like? What did it mean to come to terms with both their daughter’s death and their divorce?

  Maybe, as the boys ran back to their sled, it wasn’t a question they needed to settle right this very minute.

  Lance grinned at Erin. “I will be expecting a rematch once you’re healed.”

  “You’re on,” she said, laughing.

  That was the other thing he’d loved, and missed, about Erin. Her laugh. She had one of the most beautiful, most contagious, laughs of anyone he’d ever met. The kind that made you feel absolutely comfortable and at ease because you knew she was laughing with you, not at you.

  “Uncle Lance!” Dylan held up the sled.

  “Go,” Erin said. “The boys have been really excited abou
t today. I’ve been promising them for weeks that as soon as we got a good snow, we’d go sledding.”

  And every day since her accident, she’d put them off. Or rather, he’d put them off. As he jogged over to the boys, he realized he’d been working hard at keeping his distance, trying not to let how they had so easily taken to calling him “Uncle Lance” or how they automatically included him in everything, be caught in his heart.

  Was there a way for him to maintain a relationship with them once he left? He took the sled from Dylan and carried it the rest of the way up the hill. It wasn’t much of a hill, just a gentle, sloping space that would allow the boys the enjoyment of sledding but not the high-speed thrills he and Erin used to chase after.

  They’d had a lot of fun together. Funny how it had taken being apart almost two years to remember it.

  The boys got on the sled and Lance gave them a small push to send them sailing down the hill. He ran after them, letting their laughter warm his heart.

  It was going to be impossible not to find himself attached. It hadn’t hurt as much leaving the boys behind the first time; he’d been too deep in his own grief to understand how big a part of his life they were.

  When they reached the bottom of the hill, the edge of the sled hit a tiny bump and sent the boys flying. Even though they were laughing, Lance ran over to make sure they were okay.

  “Again!” Ryan chortled, jumping up and running toward him.

  Dylan picked up the sled and followed his brother. “That was awesome. We probably flew a hundred feet in the air.”

  They hadn’t flown at all, but the boys’ excitement made him smile. After losing Lily and Erin, Lance had vowed not to remarry or have children. He’d jokingly told people that he was married to his company and that it was enough. But as the snowy boys rushed at him with open arms, he thought that perhaps he might have been too hasty. He found his work rewarding, but no one from the office ever ran around giving him hugs. Not only would it be inappropriate, as much as he liked the people he worked with, he hadn’t ever felt like hugging any of them.