Holiday Homecoming. Jean C. Gordon

do the solo. Besides she has enough on her hands with the kids, helping Rob on the farm and her part-time job.”

      Her mother’s last words stung, even though Natalie knew she didn’t mean them in a hurtful way. Mom was stating fact. Until she found a new job, figured out her life, what did she have to do?

      “And—yes, I’m interfering—you and Connor have some unfinished business. Working together might help you finish it.”

      Natalie’s stomach churned as if her last swallow of coffee had been one too many. Yes, she and Connor did have unfinished business—at least she did with him. But she wasn’t sure she had enough strength left in her to finish it. Nor was she certain anymore that God would give her that strength.

      * * *

      Connor stomped through the fresh dusting of snow that had arrived overnight to cover the parking lot of Pharaoh Mountain tree farm. With the clear blue sky and temperatures up near freezing, it was a perfect day to get a Christmas tree for the parsonage—for someone who wanted to get a Christmas tree. He, personally, hadn’t had a tree ever. He knew it was childish, but Natalie refusing his proposal in front of the tree they’d just finished decorating together in her Syracuse apartment, complete with the Christmas star he’d given her for the top, had killed any interest he might have in putting one up for himself.

      Last year, when Jared had been living with him, he and their then six-year-old half sister Hope had gotten one for the parsonage, and Becca and her kids had come over and helped decorate it. His only input had been to insist they put something other than a star on top. He couldn’t see a flashing star atop a tree or anywhere else without seeing Natalie saying, “I’m sorry...” This year, he’d thought he was home free until the women heading up the church’s hospitality and evangelism committees had decided it would be a good idea to have a community-wide open house at the parsonage the weekend before Christmas. All Connor had to do was supply the tree. They’d take care of the food and the rest of the decorating.

      He gripped the saw he’d found hanging in the parsonage garage. He couldn’t tell the women that he didn’t want a Christmas tree in his house. So when Josh had canceled their workday to go into the office, Connor figured he might as well get it over with.

      “Connor,” someone called from behind, pulling him out of his morass. Claire Delacroix jogged up beside him, her cheeks turned rosy from the cold, just like Natalie’s always had. “Picking up your Christmas tree?”

      “That and some wreaths and boughs and stuff for the parsonage. The hospitality and evangelism committees are going to decorate for the open house.”

      “Want to join us? We’re getting the tree for Mom and Dad’s house.”

      “Sure,” he said before considering who “we” might include. He hesitated. No, Natalie would be home, wouldn’t she? In case her mother needed help.

      “We’re meeting at the chocolate hut,” Claire said. “That’s what we call the outbuilding where you pay for the trees.”

      His lack of knowledge of the tree farm must have shown on his face.

      “You haven’t been here before.”

      “No.” At their house growing up, the tree had appeared Christmas Eve after they’d gone to bed. When he was older, he’d assumed Mom picked them up at a discount somewhere on her way home after she’d finished her Christmas Eve shift at the diner.

      “They have the best hot chocolate with mint. Free with every tree. Don’t tell Mom and Dad, but that’s really why I got up early on a Saturday morning to come.”

      “Okay.” He wasn’t sure what all the excitement about hot chocolate was. His plan had been to get in and out as fast as possible.

      Claire waved as they tromped toward a building the size of a large shed that looked like a miniature log cabin. Both of her parents, along with her brother Paul and Natalie, were standing in front.

      “You should probably go ahead without me. I don’t want to horn in on what sounds like a family tradition.”

      “Since when?” Claire laughed. “You used to be at the house so much, Mom called you her middle son.”

      “That was back in high school.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his ski jacket, fighting the old feeling of being an outsider that he’d thought he’d shed when he’d left Paradox Lake for college.

      “Come on. It’ll be a lot more fun with us than by yourself.”

      He walked over to the building with her. Fun wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting.

      “Hey, look who I found in the parking lot,” Claire said.

      Almost in unison, Natalie’s parents and brother gave him an enthusiastic greeting. Even Natalie smiled.

      “I’m picking up a tree for the parsonage,” he said. Lame. Why else would he be at a Christmas tree farm?

      “For the open house.” Terry nodded. “Where are you putting it? In the living room or the dining room? With the high ceilings at the parsonage, you’ll want a tall tree.”

      Connor hadn’t thought about the best place to put it. He just wanted to get the job out of way. “Last year, Jared and Becca put the tree in the living room.”

      “That’s probably best,” she said. “You’ll have the buffet set up in the dining room.”

      The ladies will have the buffet set up. He was trying to stay as much out of the event as he could, putting his efforts where they belonged—on his Christmas church services and the pageant.

      “The girls can help you.” Terry’s eyes twinkled with mischief, just as Natalie’s used to. “They’re both almost as good at picking out the right tree as I am. I’m going to wait here.” She tapped her walker. “No hiking the hills for the perfect tree for me.”

      “I’ll stay and keep you company,” Natalie said. “Four people are enough to cut two trees.”

      Even though he’d been looking for an out minutes ago, hearing Natalie say the same thing sharpened already painful memories.

      “And miss the fun? No way. Go ahead,” Terry urged. “I’m fine here with my hot chocolate.”

      Natalie opened her mouth and closed it.

      “The taller trees are in the back,” Natalie’s father, John, said. “That’s where we’re headed.”

      Connor fell in step with Natalie’s brother at the opposite side of their little group. “How’s it going, Paul?”

      “Not bad.” Paul glanced at his father, who was talking with the girls. “I talked Dad into getting in on the deal supplying milk for the new yogurt plant. Andie’s husband, Rob, is in, too.”

      “Great.” Connor knew how much Paul was working on making his partnership with his dad more of a partnership.

      “And with Natalie here and Marc and his family coming Christmas Eve, we’ll all be home except Renee.”

      Connor caught a note of sadness when Paul said his twin’s name. “Are you going to be able to use Skype to talk with her?”

      “Yep, we’re planning to Christmas morning.”

      “Here we are. Take your pick,” John said when they’d reached the far end of the farm.

      “Natalie, why don’t you help Connor? It’ll give you two time to catch up,” Claire said. “I’ll make sure these two guys don’t go overboard on tall.” She motioned to her dad and brother.

      Connor glanced at Natalie. She quickly turned the grimace her sister’s words had caused into a facsimile of a smile. He crushed an ice ball from one of the trees that had fallen in his path. Her stifled displeasure affected him far more than it should. What did he care if she didn’t want