The Pastor's Christmas Courtship. Glynna Kaye

that kinda put a damper on any flirting business.”

      Or they would, anyway, if he could forget how sweet it had been to kiss her.

       Chapter Three

      Jodi had barely drawn back from giving a big thank-you hug to Marisela Palmer—one of her grandma’s dear friends—when Garrett approached.

      Or rather, Pastor McCrae.

      Unbelievable.

      It was with a sense of relief, though, that the guy she’d known since the summer before first grade hadn’t let himself be shoehorned into a suit for his Sunday morning duties. Rather, he had on a pair of neatly pressed gray trousers, a white collared shirt, and a gray pullover sweater. No outer jacket despite the chilly morning.

      She couldn’t resist firing the first volley. “What happened to your tie, Pastor?”

      His hand flew to his neck as he looked frantically on the ground around him. “It was there a minute ago.”

      “I think Jodi’s teasing you, Garrett. Just like old times.” Marisela, a petite black woman who looked at least a decade younger than Jodi knew her to be, looped her arm through his as she gazed up at him with affection. “I spied her coming out of Nadene’s cabin this morning—a delightful surprise—and we gave her a ride. She tells me she had no idea until last night that you’ve been our minister this past year.”

      He patted Marisela’s hand, but his amused gaze held Jodi’s. “It looks as if she sufficiently recovered from the shock since she managed to get herself here on time this morning.”

      Garrett would have to remember that Grandma practically had to dynamite her out of bed, and often she’d dragged herself to the breakfast table still in her pajamas.

      Before Jodi could make a snappy response, a pretty brunette with two small children in tow paused next to Garrett. Bundled against the cold, the faux fur–trimmed hood of the woman’s burgundy coat framed a heart-shaped face and long-lashed dark eyes. She looked up at him expectantly, as if assuming introductions would be made.

      Jodi’s heart jolted. His wife and kids? Right before turning off the bedside lamp last night, she’d realized Garrett hadn’t clarified a marital status. But a quick glance at both his and the woman’s ungloved—and ringless—hands put the question to rest. So Garrett was single and still playing the field, although aspects of that part of his life would certainly have made a U-turn, as well.

      His gaze flickered to the newcomer. “Sofia, you know Marisela. But I’d like you to meet Jodi Thorpe. Our grandmothers were good friends. Jodi, this is Sofia Ramos and her daughter Tiana.”

      He placed a hand affectionately on the head of the black-haired little girl next to him. “Her little brother is Leon.”

      While early grade schooler Tiana smiled shyly, Leon, appearing to be about three, paid Jodi no attention as he tugged at his mother’s coat, eager to be on his way.

      “It’s good to meet you.” Jodi shook Sofia’s offered hand.

      “Are you visiting for the holidays, Jodi?”

      “My folks are selling my grandparents’ cabin, so I’m here to get it ready to put on the market.” That response seemed to satisfy everyone.

      “Such a shame to sell the place.” Marisela shook her head. “But while they keep the utilities turned on and things in good repair, your folks haven’t been up here at all this year.”

      Garrett looked down at his watch and made a face.

      “Oops. Showtime. Children’s choir has the opening number.” He held out a hand to each child. “Kiddos? Let’s get you in there for your moment in the spotlight—all set for your mama’s ever-ready camera if she can sneak off the piano bench for a few shots.”

      Both giggling children willingly grasped a hand and trotted up the front steps beside him, evidently comfortable in the man’s presence. Which again made Jodi wonder about his relationship with their mother.

      Mr. and Mrs. Palmer invited her to sit with them, and it was with a mix of nostalgia and a sense of time too quickly passing that she spied a few now-older yet familiar faces—including Garrett’s spunky Grandma Jo, who came over to warmly welcome her.

      Much of the service was a blur as youthful memories assailed. Sunshine streaming through the stained glass windows illuminated the red velvet bows on each pew, and the familiar scent of furniture oil tickled memories. Remembrances of squirming on a hard pew at her grandmother’s side vividly filled her mind, as did later instances of covertly watching a restless, teenage Garrett sitting with his buddies.

      It all blended together with Sofia’s lovely piano renditions in the background, that is until Garrett stood to deliver the morning’s message. As if he had a direct hotline to her troubled soul, his words regarding right and wrong choices—how split-second decisions could make a lasting impact—unexpectedly hit their fragile target.

      It was all she could do to maintain her composure as a montage of uncomfortable images flashed through her mind. Her life was such a muddled mess right now, mostly due to choices made. God had forgiven her. She believed that, not because she felt forgiven, but because that’s what He promised. But hadn’t she also paid for her mistakes in the worst possible way?

      Now she’d very likely lose her job, too, through no fault of her own. Was it any wonder her faith was tottering? She took a steadying breath as a too-familiar suffocating sensation pressed in.

      “Jodi? Would you like to join us?”

      Jerked back to the present, she realized the service had concluded. She’d zoned out through the closing hymn, people were milling in the aisles, and Marisela was standing beside her, smiling uncertainly.

      She gave an apologetic laugh as she stood to slip back into her jacket. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Join you where?”

      “Al and Dolly Lovell have invited us to lunch. You remember Dolly, don’t you? Another of your grandmother’s friends? You’re invited, too—or we’d be happy to drop you off at the cabin if you’d prefer.”

      “Oh, do come.” Another older woman, her fair hair cut in a chin-length bob, placed a hand on her arm. “You remember me, don’t you? Georgia Gates. I was your vacation Bible school teacher in third and fourth grades. Your grandma was such a dear friend. We miss her so much.”

      “Of course, I remember you.” But for a fleeting moment, surrounded by those who knew and loved Nadene Thorpe, she couldn’t help but wonder why Grandma couldn’t still be there among them, too.

      While she’d prefer to return to the seclusion of the cabin, she didn’t want to be rude to her grandma’s friends. If she got through the expected socializing today, she could then oversee the Christmas project as quickly and efficiently as possible. After that, she’d be free to withdraw from human contact for the remainder of her time in Hunter Ridge. “I’d be delighted to come as long as I won’t be intruding.”

      “Of course you won’t be,” Georgia said, giving her arm a squeeze. “We’d love to catch up on your life and that of your folks and sisters.”

      Thankfully, they could all reminisce about Grandma, too, and there was plenty she could fill them in on regarding family members—marriages, kids, travels. She should be able to keep the attention off herself for the most part.

      She’d started down the main aisle when she caught a glimpse of a familiar-looking young man in a wheelchair making his way toward a nearby side door she knew led to an outside ramp. She paused as her grandmother’s friends continued toward the back of the church.

      Drew Everton?

      He’d been one of her friends from church and a longtime buddy of Garrett’s. Top-notch student. Athlete extraordinaire. But she didn’t see any sign of