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A while later, Amelia tracked down Natalie in the kitchen as she was getting a bottle of water from a cooler of drinks one of the women had brought.
“I went upstairs to see if Hope wanted to come back down and help decorate the tree and I couldn’t find her. I think she went up to the attic. Someone left the ladder down.”
“Did you look for her there?”
“No, you have to climb a ladder. Remember, I’m afraid of ladders.”
Amelia had fallen off the ladder to the hay mow when she was a toddler and broken her arm. But it surprised Natalie that she still had a fear of ladders.
“Does Co— Pastor Connor know?”
“No, I didn’t want to tell him. We said we’d watch her.”
“Where’s Aimee? Can she check the attic?” She hated that she couldn’t stop herself from coming up with ways to avoid going upstairs where Connor was.
“She went with Autumn to get some more tree boughs.”
“Okay, I’ll look in the attic.” If Hope wasn’t there, she was probably in Connor’s office with him. It was unlikely she could have come downstairs and gone outside without anyone noticing.
Natalie put the unopened water back and walked unnoticed through the living room and upstairs, giving her second thoughts about Hope not being able to slip outside. Her heart pounded as she passed the closed door that must be to Connor’s office. Afraid that Hope wouldn’t answer if she called up to her, Natalie climbed the ladder. “Hope,” she said as she stepped from the ladder into the room.
“Natalie?” Connor’s voice came from behind a stack of boxes on the other side of the room.
Her heart slammed against her chest. “Amelia told me she thought Hope was up here.”
Connor crisscrossed the maze of boxes and furniture to her. “She told me the same thing, and that she’s afraid of ladders.”
“The ladder part may be true.”
“Let’s get out of here,” he said in as angry a tone as she’d ever heard from him.
Before they could move, the inner trapdoor slammed closed, followed by a muffled giggle.
Chapter Four
Connor sensed Natalie hovering behind him as he pressed his palm against the trapdoor. It didn’t budge.
“You can open it, right?” she asked.
He didn’t know, but hearing the strain in her voice, he wasn’t going to say that. He straightened and pulled his Swiss Army knife from the front pocket of his jeans. “Your niece must have flipped the latch. I’m going to see if I can unscrew the hinges.”
Natalie stood next to him and glared at the trapdoor. “I don’t know what’s gotten in to Aimee and Amelia.”
Connor unfolded the screwdriver tool from the knife and kneeled on the floor. “The twins think I’d make a good Christmas gift for you.” He placed the screwdriver in the slot of the closest hinge screw.
“What?” she said so loudly that if the attic wasn’t so well insulated, everyone downstairs would have heard her, and they wouldn’t have to worry about getting out of the attic.
“I overheard them before the pageant practice the other night,” he said.
As she crossed her legs on the floor, her knee brushed his leg. His knife slipped out of the screw. Not that the slight contact had rattled him. No, it was a Phillips screw and the knife had a slot screwdriver tool.
“I’ll talk to the twins and to Andie.”
“No need to make a big deal about it.” Her lack of any reference to what the twins had said hit him in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know why he’d even said anything. What did he expect her to say—best Christmas gift ever?
“I could talk with Andie about taking over directing the choir, too.”
Connor torqued the screwdriver to the left. It slipped out of the groove again and he grazed his knuckle against the metal hinge. He started to lift his hand to his mouth and stopped. “You don’t want to work on the pageant?” Or you don’t want to work with me?
She avoided his gaze, resting her elbows on her knees, chin on her crossed hands, eyes focused on the trapdoor. “It’s just... I mean...isn’t it awkward for you? Wouldn’t you rather be working with someone else?”
“We’re both adults. Anything between us ended a long time ago. I agree with your mother that you’re the best qualified person to step in for her.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
No, he hadn’t.
She lifted her head as if to challenge him to.
He wasn’t sure he could. “The pageant and church service are my job. I want the best person we can get for the choir director. You’re good. You could have majored in music, probably been a professional pianist if you’d wanted to. What more could I, Hazardtown Community Church and the Paradox Lake Association of Churches ask for?” He gave the screw another hard twist and the screwdriver snapped.
“Maybe I should have majored in music and saved everyone a lot of grief.” She lowered her gaze to the trapdoor, her thick black lashes brushing her cheeks.
He scooped up the broken screwdriver tool before she could see it. The quaver in her voice told him it wasn’t the time to tell her they were trapped up here. He shoved the broken tool in his pocket and lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Was it that bad? What happened?” Connor was uncertain whether he thought it would help to address the elephant in the room, or if he was hoping to hear her disprove what Jared had told him.
Her eyes clouded. “This isn’t easy to talk about.”
“You don’t have to. That was just Counselor Connor kicking in. You know, all that listening and conflict-resolution training I had at seminary.”
“No, you’re right. Talking will help us find grounds for starting over—as friends—so we can work together on the pageant.”
Something in him rebelled at the way she emphasized “as friends,” as if she could wash away everything that had been between them by telling her story, and they could pick up being the friends they’d been back in high school. It might normally be his job, but he didn’t want to be her confessor. She wasn’t one of his parishioners. She was his first and, so far, only love. The woman who’d trashed his heart. He clenched his jaw, waiting for her to continue.
“First,” she said, chipping at what was left of the pink polish on her thumbnail, “I need to apologize for the thoughtless way I turned down your proposal.”
Need to, not want to. It was only semantics, but in Connor’s mind, Natalie’s word choice made the situation all about her.
“You caught me by surprise. I hadn’t realized you were that serious about us. We were so comfortable with each other.”
Comfortable. Not exactly the top way he’d choose to be described. Connor sat back and stretched his legs out across the trapdoor.
Concern flickered across Natalie’s face as she looked from the door he’d been trying to open to him. “It was because of something Kirk—Kirk Sheldon, my professor—said.” She seemed to choke on his name.
“I remember him,” Connor said without showing any of the rancor he felt, despite the twist of anger in his gut.
“He’d been talking to the class about the anchor job he had waiting for him in Chicago and how the station expected to be hiring an entry-level news reporter. I wanted that job, and he stopped me after class to suggest I apply. He said I had a good probability of getting it, that he’d write a reference for me. I wanted to surprise you with my news.”
“And I surprised you with my proposal before you could.”
“You did. You knew how much I wanted to be an on-camera newsperson. I’d thought you’d understand my hasty response once I told you about the possible job in Chicago. But you cut me short before I could tell you the details.” She bit her lip. “You still had two years of seminary. I’d figured I could get some work experience before we got that serious. When you didn’t seem to understand, I was confused and frustrated. You’d always understood before when no one else did.”
Connor’s guard went up. What had she expected? She’d refused his proposal. He hadn’t been in the most understanding of moods.
“I was afraid. The future with you that flashed in my head had me tied down in some small town just like Paradox Lake. I wanted something different, more.”
“So you told me we needed a clean break,” he ventured, “that you had better things to do than to be a small-town pastor’s wife.” His words tasted as bitter as they sounded.
“I’m so sorry. I wanted to hurt you as much as it hurt me when you didn’t want to hear about the opportunity I thought the Chicago job would be.”
And she had. He stared at the attic wall behind her.
“I didn’t return your calls when I got back because part of me was afraid I’d give in to you and miss out on the opportunity.”
And he avoided seeing Natalie in person because he hadn’t wanted to risk her rejecting him again because he wasn’t good enough. Connor realized that their breakup hadn’t been entirely one-sided. He’d still had issues about being Jerry Donnelly’s son that he hadn’t worked out. He’d fallen back on his old defense of closing down, depending only on himself.
She shook her head. “It probably wouldn’t have made a difference. My family wasn’t as encouraging about the job in Chicago as I wanted, either. I thought you were all against me. I wanted to prove you all wrong. I know now that Mom and Dad were reserved about it because they didn’t want me to be too disappointed if I didn’t get the job. Kirk seemed to be the only person who had faith in me.”
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