Holiday Homecoming. Jean C. Gordon

not even with her family. But she was glad he was part of something. Growing up with an alcoholic father who was frequently the center of local gossip, Connor and his two brothers had often felt they didn’t fit in.

      “It’s my turn this year. We’re going alphabetically by church.” Connor stopped his explanation. “If you don’t want to do this with me, say so.”

      Obviously, she’d failed in her efforts to pretend she could carry off a normal conversation with him.

      “Your sister Andrea said she’d play if we couldn’t find anyone else.”

      “No, it’s fine. I told Mom I would.”

      Natalie searched his eyes to see if he’d thrown out Andie’s name as a challenge. Quitting now and letting Andie swoop in to take over would be one more failure for Natalie in the eyes of her perfect oldest sister. But Connor wouldn’t know that. He hadn’t been around for her sister’s regular phone calls lecturing her on how she and her lifestyle—or what Andie had pretty well perceived as Natalie’s lifestyle—was hurting Mom and Dad. The calls hadn’t started until after she’d broken up with Connor and followed her college mentor to Chicago to be a television news reporter.

      “You know how I love Christmas music,” she quickly added.

      His mouth twisted in a half smile she couldn’t decipher.

      “Natalie! Is it really you?” Her high school friend Autumn Hazard—Hanlon now—rushed up to the front of the auditorium, relieving Natalie of having to continue to face Connor alone.

      “It’s me,” Natalie said, glad to see Autumn, but embarrassed that she’d cut off contact with her the past couple of years. She only knew Autumn had married because her mother had told her.

      “Aunt Jinx and Drew said you were filling in for your mother.” Autumn grabbed Natalie’s hands and pulled her to her feet. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming for the holidays?”

      “It was a last-minute decision. Dad called, said he and Mom needed my help, and I came.”

      “I’m so glad to see you.” Autumn hugged her.

      Over Autumn’s shoulder, Natalie watched Connor move away to join a group of people congregating in the aisle. He hadn’t changed much since she’d last seen him. His dark blond hair was respectably shorter, the shoulders she’d leaned on maybe a little wider, and his facial features were more chiseled, making him resemble his oldest brother, Jared, and his father, rather than his mother, whom he’d looked like when he was younger. In other words, he looked good.

      She couldn’t say the same for herself, Natalie thought as Autumn stepped back to look at her.

      “It’s been way too long,” Autumn said. “What, the summer after our sophomore year of college?”

      “Probably,” Natalie agreed. “I had an internship at WTVH in Syracuse the next summer, and after graduation, I moved to Chicago for work.” The job she’d thought was her foothold into a career in television news that had turned out to be the path to the destruction of her career and personal life.

      A loud whistle penetrated the din of voices in the room. “Time to get started,” Connor said. “Sunday school kids, you can go out into the hall with Mrs. Donnelly, and she’ll explain the parts she has available. Parents, after tonight, Becca will be having rehearsals on Saturday afternoons and one day after school, rather than at night. She has information she’ll give the kids about transportation provided by the participating churches for anyone who needs it.”

      Becca led a swarm of kids and parents out of the auditorium. Natalie remembered her as Mrs. Norton, her high school history teacher. Strange to think she was Connor’s sister-in-law now.

      “Everyone else, up on the stage bleachers, bass in the back, then tenor, alto and soprano.”

      “I’ll catch you later,” Autumn said. “Our leader has spoken.”

      Natalie sat back down on the piano bench and watched the way everyone responded to Connor taking charge. He had a quiet command about him that she hadn’t seen before.

      “Many of you probably remember Natalie Delacroix.” He pointed down at her and fifty or sixty sets of eyes followed his gesture.

      Natalie forced herself to hold her head high and pasted her best onscreen smile on her face, wondering how much they knew about her and her fiasco in Chicago and what they might be thinking.

      “Natalie has graciously agreed to take over as music director for her mother, who, for those of you who don’t know, had emergency surgery the week before last. And be rest assured our music is in good hands.”

      She kept her gaze on the sheet music as Connor proceeded to tick off her qualifications.

      “Eastman School of Music offered Natalie a scholarship before she decided to pursue a degree in broadcast journalism, and she minored in music at Syracuse.”

      Natalie bit her lip. She’d applied to Eastman to appease her mother, not because she’d wanted to pursue a music career. Music was something she did for fun. Unlike her career, music had always given her joy.

      Someone started clapping and the whole group joined in. Natalie nodded her thanks. There was no way she could back out now.

      “I know I asked you to line up according to your voice type, but for Natalie’s benefit in choosing her accompaniment, please raise your hand when I say your voice type.”

      Connor ran through the four types and Natalie noted the numbers. It seemed like a fairly equal distribution, plus a few undecided.

      She stood. Time to stop being a shrinking violet and start being the music director. Natalie pitched her voice to carry up to the back of the stage. “Those of you who aren’t sure where your voice falls stop and see me after practice, and I’ll have you test sing then or before our next practice if you can’t stay tonight.”

      “Everybody got that?” Connor asked. “Natalie, your mother went over the selections the pageant committee agreed on?”

      “Yes.” She sat down and opened the music folder to the first song.

      “Take it away, maestro,” he said.

      Natalie lifted her fingers and flexed them. “We’ll warm up with ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.’ I’ll run though the first couple of stanzas. When I go back to the beginning again, you all join in.”

      She waited for Connor to leave now that the practice was beginning. Instead, he climbed the bleachers to the tenor section and stood in front of his brother Jared. A small tremor ran through her hands as she placed her fingers on the keyboard, remembering the rich timbre of his singing voice. Until she’d turned down his proposal Christmas Eve of her senior year, they’d driven to and from college together singing to the radio the whole way. The man could really do justice to a slow country ballad. She stopped a sigh. For whatever reason, she’d expected Connor to leave.

      Natalie began to play, trying to lose herself in the music. But her mind kept running over ways to avoid being caught alone with Pastor Connor again.

      She finally finished the program’s closing song. “I think that’s good for tonight.” She paused. “Unless Connor has anything else.”

      “No, nothing except a reminder that the next practice is next Tuesday, same time.”

      A week. That gave her a week before she’d have to see Connor again. Except—the thought struck her—at church service. She shook off the feeling of uncertainty. What was with her? There wasn’t anything between her and Connor anymore. She was a big girl. She could maintain a pastor-parishioner relationship with him. But he wasn’t any ordinary pastor, and considering some of the stuff she’d gotten herself into the past couple of years, she was a far cry from his typical parishioner.

      As she waited for choir members to check in with her about their range placement, a chuckle from Connor