The Pastor's Christmas Courtship. Glynna Kaye

hadn’t been stalking me, I—”

      “Stalking you? I was trying to help you. ’Tis the season. You know, ho ho ho?” Before she could stop him, he snagged the toboggan in one hand and one of her grandma’s now partially filled grocery tote bags in another and slung them into the back of his pickup with what looked to be a dwindling load of firewood.

      “What are you doing?”

      “What’s it look like? Getting you and your stuff out of the cold.” He squatted to gather the scattered contents back into the other bags. Lifting a cereal box, he waggled it at her. “Still into Cheerios, I see.”

      With a laugh, she snatched it out of his hand, recalling the afternoon that as an elementary schooler she’d been dared to sneak a family-size cereal box from Grandma’s pantry and devour the whole thing herself. Garrett couldn’t stop snickering when Grandma insisted she still clean her plate at suppertime.

      “You don’t need to do this, Garrett. I’m almost there.”

      “So indulge me.” He held out his hand for the cereal box.

      What would be the point in arguing? Used to getting his own way, the high-spirited Garrett had long marched to the beat of his own drummer. She’d once foolishly hoped they were marching to the same beat...but learned a hard, humiliating lesson. Except for that out-of-the-blue instance that he made no secret of immediately regretting, he’d never considered her as more than a pal. A buddy.

      As soon as he’d stowed the last of her bags, he helped her off with her backpack and opened the passenger-side door. But before she could hoist herself up, a vehicle coming from the opposite direction pinned them in its lights, then pulled parallel to Garrett’s truck.

      A ball-capped male poked his head out an open pickup window. “I should have figured I’d find you out here rescuing a pretty damsel in distress. Way to go, Preacher.”

      Jodi turned toward Garrett, catching his deer-in-the-headlights look of alarm.

      Preacher?

      * * *

      Uncomfortably conscious of Jodi’s questioning gaze, Garrett raised his voice over the rumble of the two vehicles. “Do me a favor, cuz, and keep this to yourself.”

      “You can count on it.” The other man chuckled, then offered a parting wave as he guided his vehicle on down the snowy road.

      Garrett didn’t meet Jodi’s eyes as he held out his hand to assist her into the truck, taking note of the curtain of straight red-blond hair now lightly dusted with snow. It would be too much to hope that she hadn’t caught Grady’s preacher remark. Nothing much ever got past Jodi, but she’d probably think it was a joke. Some days he wasn’t sure if that might be the case. God’s little joke, anyway.

      As she settled herself in to secure her seat belt, he wedged the backpack at her feet. Then he shut the door and jogged around the front of the vehicle to climb aboard.

      “Which cousin was that?”

      She’d remembered he had a bunch. “Grady Hunter, the twins’ next-to-oldest brother. Luke, Claire and Bekka are all married, and Grady’s getting hitched in February. Rio’s still single.”

      She nodded thoughtfully, as if placing long-forgotten faces to the names, maybe recalling that his mother was a sister to the dad of those cousins. He started the truck slowly down the road, its windshield wipers working overtime against the descending snow.

      Thankfully, Garrett could trust his cousin to keep his mouth shut. He sure didn’t need questions raised about his personal conduct because he’d stopped to assist an old friend. This past year he’d toed a fine line as interim pastor of Christ’s Church of Hunter Ridge—as a single interim pastor, to be exact.

      That was a slippery slope in a place used to family men. He couldn’t afford to leave doors open for criticism of his actions if he hoped to qualify for a spot on a highly-thought-of missions team. He was so close and needed a positive recommendation from church leadership to seal the deal.

      But this was Jodi.

      He couldn’t leave her stranded on a night like this because someone might not think it acceptable for him to escort her home alone. After all, they’d grown up like brother and sister, right?

      Nevertheless, his ears warmed as he shoved away a memory he hoped she had no recollection of—although, from the look on her face when she’d recognized him, the odds of that were slim to none. He was pretty sure her grandma, rest her soul, hadn’t forgotten. He’d certainly received a well-deserved earful when she’d walked in on them that Christmas Eve. Thankfully, things hadn’t gotten beyond hot and heavy kissing. But he probably still owed Jodi a long-overdue apology.

      He adjusted the windshield wiper speed. “What are you doing out here in the dark pulling that sled? Where’s your car?”

      “I use public transportation—and I didn’t want to mess with renting a car.” Her words came almost reluctantly, as if uncertain how much to share with him. “The forecast showed flurries the next few weeks, so I thought I could get around on one of the bikes at the cabin. I caught a shuttle from the Phoenix airport this afternoon.”

      Assuming they still lived in the Valley of the Sun, why hadn’t she spent the night with her folks or one of her sisters?

      “When I got here,” she continued, “I made a mistake of stretching out for an intended quick nap. Only I woke up not long before sunset to several inches of snow. Who knows what it will be like tomorrow? So off I went.”

      He glanced at her, hoping she’d elaborate on what she’d been doing with her life. But she didn’t. Incredibly, she wasn’t married, but were her sisters? Did her university professor folks still take short-term mission trips during semester breaks? It saddened him that the cabin was to be sold, although to his knowledge the family hadn’t gathered there as a whole since her grandma’s health abruptly deteriorated and she eventually passed away.

      Jodi's mitten-clad hand patted the dashboard. “What’s with the monster truck?”

      “A loaner from Hunter’s Hideaway.” That was the family business that had catered to outdoor enthusiasts since early in the last century. “With this cold snap, Grady and I’ve been delivering firewood to those in need.”

      She laughed. “So you are a do-gooder now.”

      Did she have to sound so surprised? Admittedly, growing up he’d been forever into mischief. Always pushing boundaries and looking for a good time wherever he could find it. Not a whole lot into thinking of others. But still...

      “You even took time from your do-gooder efforts,” she noted, “to help this poor old lady stumbling along the side of the road.”

      “You gotta admit you looked the part.” But she sure didn’t right now, with that silky hair cascading around her shoulders and a smile lighting her brown eyes. Those very assets had been his downfall the night a transformed sixteen-year-old Jodi showed up in town after a few years’ absence, leaving him stupefied and devoid of common sense.

      Sort of how he was feeling at this very moment.

      Not good.

      After his most recent disappointment in the romance department, he’d steered clear of serious involvements. And for an interim pastor, this wasn’t a good time to start rethinking that choice. So why had it popped into his head that her arrival in town might be the answer to a prayer he’d uttered but twenty minutes ago?

      His office assistant Melody Lenter—an energetic lady about his mom’s age—had called around lunchtime, informing him her father in Texas had a heart attack and she and her husband were on their way out of town. She’d have to bail out on overseeing the annual Christmas project she’d single-handedly spearheaded for the past twenty years. Between wood deliveries, he’d spent the afternoon phoning church members, trying to find someone to fill her shoes—but to no avail. He’d barely called out to God that someone had to cover for