Home for christmas, p.1
Home for Christmas, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
Epilogue
A Devotional Moment
Thank you
You Can Help!
God Can Help!
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Home for Christmas
C.E. Hilbert
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Home for Christmas
COPYRIGHT 2023 by C.E. Hilbert
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. eBook editions are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. eBooks may not be re-sold, copied or given to other people. If you would like to share an eBook edition, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Contact Information: titleadmin@pelicanbookgroup.com
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version(R), NIV(R), Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Scripture quotations, marked KJV are taken from the King James translation, public domain. Scripture quotations marked DR, are taken from the Douay Rheims translation, public domain.
Scripture texts marked NAB are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition Copyright 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
Cover Art by Nicola Martinez
White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC
www.pelicanbookgroup.com PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410
White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC
Publishing History
First White Rose Edition, 2023
Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-5223-0440-1
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my forever boyfriend, Jesus. Thanks for giving us the best party ever.
1
“Harper, what brings you to the medical center tonight?”
“Hi, Mrs. Jenkins. My mom asked me to drop some Ladies Aid Society supplies off to her.” Harper Jessup lifted the basket filled with baked goods and a second basket stuffed with magazines, pens, crossword puzzles, and coloring books. “Mrs. Penhearst fell at the church social hall. Mom’s been with her since the medic arrived.”
“Your mother is always give, give, give… Don’t know why she didn’t call one of your other sisters or your brother. They live in town. And you all the way up in Columbus.” Sissy Jenkins’s face pinched into a tight pucker. “Sad to hear about Lulu. But the old girl should recognize her age like the rest of us. What was she thinking dangling from a ladder?”
Harper chuckled. Mrs. Jenkins always seemed to know what was best for everyone. “Well, ma’am, I believe she was trying to make the cookie sale spectacular. I was in town helping to set up the new Nativity scene for the Christmas Festival when Mom called. And, being the only unattached Jessup left in the clan, I have the most ‘flexible’ schedule.”
Mrs. Jenkins narrowed her gaze. “I guess that makes sense. Your brother is all gaga over the preacher’s daughter. When is their wedding again?”
“First weekend in January.”
“Good. Good. Well, you better get to skedaddling.”
With a nod, Harper pivoted away from the welcome desk and slammed fully into what felt like a solid wall. Scones and magazines flew in multiple directions. “Watch it!”
Dropping to her knees, she scraped together crumbs and broken pastries. With a glance into the basket, she sighed. “Two. Only two of Maggie’s scones left.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Harper lifted her gaze, taking in cargo pants littered with mended tears and patches thin enough to mimic gauze. Topped with a linen shirt — equally transparent — the outfit spoke of the heat of summer not the icy chill of mid-December in Ohio. Her heart sagged as he stretched to gather the mess of magazines, pens, and crossword puzzles, while he muttered a string of apologies.
Sitting back on her heels, she said, “No worries. Accidents happened.”
He turned to face her, matching her crouched stance.
“I am so sorry. I’m a bit frazzled. I received a call about my aunt. She’s been taken to surgery. She’s elderly and I’m not sure how well she’ll do.” He raised the newly stacked periodicals toward Harper.
Lifting her gaze to meet his, Harper’s lungs seemed to forget how to breathe. Shabby chic or not, his deep, dark focus stole her ability to form words. All she could do was stare.
Cropped sandy brown hair framed a nearly perfect face. Square jaw, lightly speckled with a barely-there beard. High cheekbones, highlighted with the natural glow of summer—despite the December eighth date on the calendar. All topped with a man scarf in rust wrapped around his neck. Somehow the one accessory made him appear more masculine. With a quick swipe of her mouth, she wiped the puddle of drool beginning to form.
“Umm…your magazines?” He shook them toward her, but Harper couldn’t move. Or breathe. Or form logical sentences.
“Are you OK?” He shifted on his toes toward the welcome station. “Ma’am,” he said to Mrs. Jenkins. “I think I may have stunned this young lady.”
She chuckled. “I believe you did, son.”
“Could you call someone?”
Harper shook her head. “I’m fine.” Grabbing the magazines and crosswords from him, she stuffed them into the basket with the remaining scones and a few wrapped sandwiches. Scooping up the loose pens, she moved to stand. Heat blazed up her neck with each inch straighter she stood. “It’s just been a long day.”
Following her move, he stood. “I can appreciate the feeling.” Extending his hand to her, his beautifully full lips curved into a small grin. “Ben Langston.”
Harper slid her free hand into his wide grip. Warm honey seemed to slide from the middle of her stomach to the tips of her toes with his touch. “Harper Jessup.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Harper snatched her hand from his grip. Get it together Jessup. Learn from your mistakes. No men. Especially handsome men in scarves.
Locking the baskets in the crook of her elbow, she pivoted away from Ben Langston and the chuckling Mrs. Jenkins. “Yes, well, I need to drop these with my mother and Mrs. Penhearst’s family.” She said to the empty hallway stretching toward the bank of elevators.
A warm hand gripped her shoulder stopping her in mid-escape. “Mrs. Penhearst?” Dreamy Ben Langston’s voice slipped through her barrier. “Do you mean Lulu Penhearst?”
Harper glanced over her shoulder and nodded. “Yes. Do you know her?”
“She’s my aunt.”
Of course, she was.
2
“Well, I guess you should follow me.” The striking Harper Jessup said to the entire hallway and yet to no one in particular.
Ben watched her gobble the distance between the welcome station and the bank of elevators. His feet felt rooted to the ground. The last six hours, since learning his aunt fell six feet, breaking her hip and wrist, had been a blur of adrenaline and focused problem solving.
Aunt Lulu was more than a great-aunt; she was the closest person to a grandparent in his life. Since the death of his mother five years ago, she was his only family. Well, not his only family, but the only relative willing to share her life with him.
The heightened energy fueling his cross-country trip to Ohio seemed to evaporate the moment he bumped into Harper. Exhaustion he hadn’t felt since medical school cloaked him in an invisible blanket. He wasn’t certain he could lift one booted foot in front of another even if Harper Jessup made his heart race.
The front desk greeter cleared her throat. “Young man, I believe yo
Ben glanced over his shoulder. The elderly redhead at the desk lifted a single eyebrow and pursed her lips.
Ben nodded and hustled down the hall. Slicing his hand between the closing doors of the elevator, he stepped into the six-by-six square box. His broad-shouldered frame consumed the space making him feel like an oversized ogre. Sucking in a deep breath, a spicy scent filled his senses. Was it Harper? Or the remnants of the treats she carried? Either way, the aroma settled his spirit, reminding him of Aunt Lulu’s kitchen at Christmas.
Glancing down at Harper Jessup, a soft stirring wove through him. Dressed in slim cargo pants topped with an oversized cream turtle neck sweater, she looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of an outdoor clothing catalogue. From her cropped honey-blonde curls, tightly cuddled around her heart shaped face, clean of cosmetics, to her wide set, soft gray-blue eyes, everything about her screamed outdoors, fresh, and all American. The top of her knit cap barely reached his shoulder, but the personality he experienced warned him she wasn’t pint sized everywhere.
He cleared his throat. “I am sorry about earlier. I was anxious to find my aunt. I’ve been a bit of a mess since I received the call. I got here as soon as I could.”
Harper released a soft sigh. She locked her gaze with his in the mirrored walls. “Where do you live?”
“Outside Nashville. I’m certain I broke a few traffic laws on my drive.”
Her lips lifted at the corners, warming him better than the winter jacket he forgot in the car.
“Nice town. I lived there for about a year after college.”
He nodded. The words he wanted to have glide through his lips, tinged with charming wit, lodged themselves deep into the recesses of his mind. Along with speed limits, he seemed to have broken his ability to have social chit chat.
The elevator dinged announcing their arrival on the surgical floor. Ben followed Harper down the hall, trying to keep up with her clipped steps as they made two right turns and walked through a wide double doorway.
The surgical waiting room could have been in any hospital, medical center, or surgical clinic across the country. Blue and gray vinyl covered loveseats and high back chairs were set in several groupings to accommodate six to eight people. Magazines dated two years earlier were tossed on various tables. Four televisions were mounted in the corners of the room. The TVs were silent, but the closed caption bubbled along the bottom of the screen, with mostly accurate text.
He scanned the room and his gaze landed on a group of ladies huddled in the corner. Over the last several Christmases and weekend trips to visit Aunt Lulu, he met her diverse group of friends. He couldn’t remember a single name, but he was comforted to see how much love she received in a crisis.
Harper sidled around several magazine laden tables and vinyl covered chairs in an effort to reach the gaggle of ladies sipping coffee and chatting amongst themselves. Ben quickly traced her steps.
“Harper, dear, what did you bring us?” A woman with a soft blonde bob asked. Not waiting for an answer, she stood, and greeted Harper with a gentle hug.
“Well,” Harper said, stepping out of the embrace. “Maggie sent some scones and a couple of sandwiches. I figured I could pop down to the cafeteria and get you coffee, but Maggie wouldn’t hear of it. She’s sending Sean over with a fresh carafe when he gets off duty.” She set the basket of goodies and various periodicals on the low table in front of the ladies. “It would have been more if people watched where they were walking.”
“I’m certain it will be wonderful. Maggie always knows how to spoil us.” She lifted the covering off the basket and rubbed her hands together. “Bennett, would you like something to eat?” The blonde asked without lifting her focus from the basket.
Ben scooted forward. “Ma’am?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his, stretching out a hand to him. “Bennett Langston? I’m Lulu’s friend, Nancy Jessup.”
“Mrs. Jessup!” He snatched her into a quick hug.
Mrs. Jessup gasped and patted Ben on the shoulder signaling her need for release.
“Sorry. I’m just so grateful Aunt Lulu has so many people who care for her.”
“It’s OK, dear. Lulu will be just fine.”
Ben could feel tears burning behind his lids. Grinding the heels of his hands over his eyelids, he nodded.
“What are you doing here?” The voice he could swear he’d heard lecturing him in utero pricked a sharp path down his spine and dried his tears. Twisting, he raised his gaze up fitted yoga pants tucked into wellies and topped with an oversized OSU Medical Center fleece. A thick mass of sandy brown hair was twisted on top of her head. He stepped toward her with his arms spread wide. “Darcy. How are you?”
Locking her arms across her chest, she frowned. “Bennett, you shouldn’t have come. You are not needed here.”
The cold air filling his open arms, chilled him to the core. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his booted heels, hoping some of the gentle warmth he’d felt in Harper’s presence would thaw the tundra forming between him and Darcy. “Regardless of whether or not I’m needed, I wanted, want to be here. She’s my aunt too, Darc.”
“Familial obligations are convenient, aren’t they, Bennett?”
“You’re the one who stopped taking my calls. Not the other way around.”
“Of course, you’d see it that way. You’ve always been so selfish.” Darcy pivoted and jogged out of the waiting room.
Ben swallowed against the thick lump wedged in his throat as Darcy disappeared around the corner. “Who’s she?” Harper asked as she came to stand beside him.
“My twin sister.”
3
Bennett.
What was he doing here? In Ohio? At the hospital?
Darcy stomped down the hall. Slamming the heavy metal door leading to the East Wing stairwell, she stretched her legs taking the steps two at a time. She climbed with little focus to where she was going, simply hoping her burning anger would settle to a simmer.
Bennett was here. Her baby brother by four minutes−Mr. Self-Righteous…rather, Dr. Self-Righteous. Darcy was certain he would somehow make poor Lulu’s accident about him and his savior complex. He would swoop in to fix Lulu.
Just as he did with Mom.
Stopping on the landing between the fifth and sixth floor, Darcy sucked in a deep breath and leaned against the cold cement brick wall. When their mother was diagnosed with lymphoma six years ago, Bennett was in his surgical residency. He insisted Mom be treated at his facility rather than the medical center where Darcy was in the first year of her research project. Darcy argued where she worked was just as good as where he worked and had the bonus of being near Aunt Lulu, their mom’s surrogate mother and their mother’s childhood friends. But Dr. I’m-Always-the-Most-Right Bennett was adamant. Mom listened to Bennett. She always gave in to what he wanted. From what to have for dinner to where they should live, Bennett always held the majority vote in the family of three. He was the baby. The chosen one. The real doctor.
Darcy graduated higher ranked from medical school than Bennett, but that held little weight with Mom. Darcy’s decision to pursue a calling into research, something her mother couldn’t understand, meant she wasn’t a real doctor. “We need to listen to Ben, darling. He knows what patients need. He knows what’s best for me.”
With a low sigh, she slowed her ascent to the final landing. In front of her was a wide steel security door plastered with a red and white sign: EXIT TO ROOF. NO REENTRY.
Pressing the crash bar with flourish, Darcy walked out into the December wind that whipped across her heated cheeks. A brick sat to the left of the door, conveniently waiting for the other rule-breakers in the hospital. She scooted the weight to keep the door propped open. She was new to the rule-breaker club and said a silent prayer of thanks to those who preceded her.
The wide roof, dotted with thick metal chimneys and electrical boxes created a maze beckoning her to wander through to the balustrade facing north. She leaned against the rough cinder block squinting in the general direction of her apartment an hour away on High Street in Columbus.
Sucking in a clean breath, she blinked against the harsh parking lot lighting. Lifting her gaze, the night sky seemed to be folded velvet, with rolling variations of midnight blue and dark gray speckled with bright pinpoints of shining light. A calm she only felt in open spaces flowed through her. She wrapped arms around her waist to warm against the icy chill flowing over the roof.
