A Christmas Promise (Kansas Crossroads Book 16) Read online

  “So, Richard was going to tell us how he ended up becoming a pastor,” Parker said, settling back in his chair with an amused look on his face. “I never saw that one coming.”

  “You weren’t the religious type as a child?” Posy asked.

  “I liked going to church, but I wanted to do something outdoors or work with trains,” Richard explained. “I didn’t decide to become a pastor until after we moved away from Humboldt. You see, my parents both died when I was young, and I’d been taken in by my aunt and uncle. When my uncle’s business in Humboldt failed, we moved to Kansas City, and it was a trying time for me. I had left behind all my friends, and I floundered for a while. It was actually at Christmastime when I decided what my life’s path should be—a yuletide miracle.” He motioned toward the pine bough decorations along the mantel. “It seems as though I’ve come full circle.”

  Miranda shifted in her chair, emotionally uncomfortable as well as physically. “I don’t understand what Christmas had to do with it.”

  He turned to her with a smile. “My uncle had decided that I should apprentice myself in his office. There’s nothing wrong with being in business if that’s where your interests lie, but mine most certainly did not, and we were butting heads on a daily basis. I felt like he was trying to take over my life. I had become rather selfish since I’d last seen you both—I doubt you would have recognized me—and I didn’t want to hear a word he had to say. So I ran off one night, Christmas Eve, actually, and found myself hungry and cold on a very dark street.

  “As I walked along, I found a small family huddled up against the side of a building. They’d started a tiny fire and were trying to warm their hands over it. When they saw me, they waved me over and invited me to share the warmth. I crouched down next to them and looked into their faces.”

  Richard’s gaze seemed far away, as though he was seeing the whole thing again. “There was a mother and three small children. I asked where the father was, and she replied that he was away, working on the railroad. He’d send some money when he could, and in the meantime, the Good Lord was providing. I couldn’t believe she’d said that—how was the Lord providing when all they had was such a tiny little fire? I’ll never forget what she said next. She said, ‘And why do you think the world has fire? Because God created it for you and for me and for my children and everyone else who’s cold on this night—that’s why.’ Her faith, as simple was it was, seared into my chest, and I wanted to know what she knew. I wanted to have what she had.

  “So I went back home, tucked myself away in my room, and read the New Testament from cover to cover. By the time the dawn broke Christmas morning, I knew what I was meant to do with my life. I wanted to teach people about Jesus Christ the way that woman had taught me—by living it. I went down to the kitchen, grabbed up a basketful of food and some blankets, and delivered them to that small family, and then I found my uncle and told him my plan. I wanted to be a pastor.”

  So quickly? His heart had completely changed overnight? Miranda was skeptical. It seemed impossible that real, lasting change could take place so quickly. But she didn’t want to question him in the middle of his story or in public. “And how did your uncle react?” she asked instead.

  Richard leaned back, laughing, although it didn’t seem to be a very humor-filled laugh. “Oh, he wasn’t pleased at all. He’s always said that clergymen make money off the hopes and dreams of their congregations. Never mind the fact that the clergy make a modest wage—because he doesn’t believe in heaven, he doesn’t understand what we actually do. He also couldn’t understand how just one night of reading the Bible could have such an impact on me.”

  Miranda almost nodded her agreement, but stopped herself. She glanced at the clock on the mantel and realized time had gone faster than she’d realized. “I’m sorry, but the next train will be here soon and I need to get ready. Will you excuse me?”

  “Of course,” Richard said, coming to his feet as she stood.

  She thanked him, then turned and ran up the stairs. Her thoughts were in a horrible muddle. The whole time Richard had been speaking, she couldn’t help but notice how his voice had mellowed into a rich timbre over the years, and how much broader his shoulders seemed, and how his features had become more chiseled. He’d been good-looking as a youth, but as a man? He was infinitely attractive.

  As she finished the last button on her work dress, she wondered if she should even be thinking about him that way. He was a pastor now, and she wasn’t sure if pastors were supposed to be considered attractive. Of course, Pastor Osbourne was attractive, and she knew Olivia thought so too—but Olivia was his wife, so maybe she was allowed liberties. Miranda might do well just to forget what Richard looked like altogether.

  As if it was that easy.

  She also had no idea what to think of his story. Yes, it was certainly sweet that he’d come across that family in the cold and decided to study the Bible, but the whole thing sounded like an article out of a Christian ladies’ magazine, not something that would happen in real life. The skeptical part of her wondered if he’d made the story up so his congregation would be drawn in to whatever he was selling.

  She shook her head as she dashed back down the stairs. She was being too hard on him, no doubt. She had no reason to believe his story wasn’t true. It might sound a bit too sweet and coincidental, but that didn’t mean it had to be a lie. It just meant that she’d been misled a few too many times in the past and wasn’t anxious to have that experience again.

  She lined up with the other waitresses to greet their customers, pushing aside her confusion and irritation. She’d have plenty of time later to sort through her feelings—right now, she had cold and hungry people to feed.

  Parker, Posy, and Richard hadn’t left. Instead, they came into the dining room, and Miranda showed them to a table. “Would you like dinner, or are you more in the mood for coffee and pie?” she asked.

  “Dinner, please,” Posy replied. “I don’t know what I did wrong, but the soup I started tastes terrible.”

  “I’m sure it’s not terrible,” Parker said. “You’ll figure out how to fix it.”

  Posy gave him a smile and then turned back to Miranda. “This is how you know we’re still newlyweds. I’m sure that in a few years’ time, he won’t be nearly as patient.”

  Miranda grinned back. “I don’t know—I think he’s smitten for the long run. Now, what can I get you? We have chicken and potatoes, or meatloaf and carrots.”

  She took their orders, then stepped into the kitchen to gather up the food. Sarah gave her an amused look. “The girls keep telling me about a young man who showed up this afternoon, so I peeked out there a second ago. You’re a lucky girl, Miranda.”

  Miranda shook her head. “There’s nothing going on, really. He’s just an old friend from the town where Parker and I used to live. I haven’t even seen him in years.”

  Sarah put a slice of meatloaf on a plate and handed it over. “You realize that I married an old friend from a place where I used to live . . .”

  Miranda opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Well, that’s different,” she said at last, accepting another plate of meatloaf. “You and Stephen are meant to be together.”

  “And you and this young man aren’t? How do you know?”

  “Because . . . oh, I don’t know. We just aren’t. And between you and Emma, you’re confusing the issue entirely.” She picked up a plate of chicken, set it on her tray, and headed back out. Earlier that day, she’d felt warm and fuzzy inside when she considered that she might end up with Richard after all, but now she felt uncomfortable and irritated. Why did she feel so different now? Had something changed?

  She set the plates around the table, made sure they had bread and butter, then moved on, analyzing her feelings. Two things had changed, as far as she could tell. First, she’d realized just how attractive Richard really was, and second, she’d listened to him talk about Christmas and his decision to become a pastor. There was no
thing wrong with being attractive, but it just made his conversion to the clergy worse. Like . . . like he was now a bright shiny penny that she couldn’t have.

  Chapter Three

  Miranda finished wiping down the last table, and Emma came along right behind her with a fresh tablecloth. Once the dining room was set to rights for the next morning, they went back into the kitchen to help dry the rest of the dishes. Miranda was aching for the night to be over—there was a low buzz in the back of her brain that wasn’t going to go away until she had some peace and quiet.

  “I’ve placed the order for all our holiday food, and it should be ready for us in time,” Sarah said as they worked. “The wassail will make the dining room smell wonderful—we’ll keep a pot of it going all day for each of the holidays.”

  “Olivia asked if we could help decorate the church’s Christmas baskets,” Miranda added. “She said she could use us day after tomorrow in the morning.”

  They spent a few minutes discussing who would be available, and when the work was done, Miranda stepped out of the kitchen and onto the back porch. She knew the night air would be frosty, but she’d become so overheated, she needed to cool her cheeks to be comfortable.

  “Are you all right?” Giselle asked when she came back inside. All the other girls had left the kitchen, and it was just the two of them remaining.

  “I’m fine. Just a bit unsettled.” Miranda took off her apron and tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner. “Is Jesse coming to walk you home?”

  “Yes, he’ll be here in a minute.”

  “Good. It seems darker tonight than usual.”

  Giselle nodded. “Try to get some rest, all right? And if you want to talk about anything . . .”

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll feel a lot better in the morning. Nothing puts me back to normal like sleep.”

  Miranda told Giselle goodnight and climbed the stairs. The attic was chilly, but Emma was stoking the stove in the corner, and within minutes, the place was toasty warm.

  “How did you like running the kitchen today?” Carrie asked Kate.

  “It was fine, but a little hectic,” Kate replied.

  “You did a great job.” Ruth finished buttoning her nightgown and sat on her bed. “It took me weeks to learn the things you’ve picked up already.”

  “Thank you. I hope I’ll get used to the pace—my heart was pounding the whole time.”

  The girls chatted back and forth as usual, then climbed into their beds and drifted off to sleep one by one. Miranda stayed awake for a while, though, thinking about Richard. She had worshipped him when she was a little girl—no one else could ever be as wonderful—but he never noticed her at all. Today, though . . . today she knew he’d seen her as a woman. His eyes had lit up with appreciation when he saw her, he glanced at her often, and if she wasn’t mistaken, they had exchanged some meaningful looks. She was getting the attention she’d always dreamed of having—but had her dreams now changed?

  She used to think she knew exactly what she wanted. She’d work in a library until she got married, and then she and her husband would sit by the fire and read to each other every night. That certainly hadn’t panned out, and the closest she’d come was volunteering at the tiny little Topeka library housed inside a dry goods store. Oh, but she had to give herself credit for the bookcase she’d placed in the hotel’s parlor. More than one guest had commented on how nice it was to have something to borrow during their stay. It was nothing, nothing like she’d imagined it would be.

  Of course, she also hadn’t imagined both her parents dying, and being cared for by her older brother. That had definitely put a crimp in her plans.

  She got out of bed and crept over to the window, taking a seat beneath it and pulling her shawl closely around her shoulders. Frost had edged the glass with dainty little designs that looked like they’d been created with the tiniest of chisels. She knew the science behind frost and crystals—things like that fascinated her. But tonight, instead of contemplating the dew point and the dropping temperature, she let herself think about fairies with paintbrushes and other fanciful things.

  “Can’t you sleep?” Ruth asked softly, joining her beneath the window.

  “No, I can’t. My brain won’t stop churning.” Miranda gave her friend a smile. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No, not at all. My brain’s not behaving either.” Ruth looked out the window. “The moon’s so bright tonight. There must not be any clouds.”

  “Hopefully that means we won’t get any more snow for a bit.”

  “Don’t you like snow?” Ruth glanced at her curiously.

  “I like it, but not the way it’s been coming down. It seems as though it’s never going to stop, and it hasn’t been melting before we get the next onslaught. Honestly, if Elizabeth were to set Rose out there in the center of the lawn, she’d probably disappear altogether, the snow’s so deep.”

  “True. It would be nice to have a break from it.” Ruth turned from the window and faced Miranda directly. “Kate did a wonderful job in the kitchen, and Millie’s a marvel. In fact, I think several of the girls are quite talented and just haven’t had the chance to show off their cooking skills yet.”

  “We’ll be in good hands when Sarah leaves,” Miranda said. “I don’t think you need to worry.”

  “I’m not worried. In fact . . .” Ruth shrugged. “I’m thinking about leaving too.”

  “You are?” Miranda was startled. She hadn’t seen or heard anything to suggest that Ruth was getting ready to quit. “Why? You’ve been here so long.”

  “That’s just it,” Ruth replied. “I’ve been here a long time, longer than almost everyone else, and I feel as though I’m exactly the same person I was when I arrived. I want to feel as though I’m doing more with my life than making food and washing dishes.”

  “Do you know what you want to do instead?”

  Ruth shrugged again. “That’s just it—I have no idea. I’ve thought about it quite a bit. I don’t have a lot of education, so my options will be limited, but surely there are things I could be doing that I haven’t explored yet. Even if I went into business for myself and ran my own restaurant, that would be something more than what I’m doing now.”

  “I think your own restaurant would be wonderful,” Miranda told her. “It makes me sad to think you won’t be here anymore, though. I like things how they are.”

  Ruth chuckled. “Situations around here change almost every day. Do we really have a ‘how things are’?”

  “I guess not. And I suppose it’s rather childish to want things to stay the same.”

  “No—I think it’s lovely. But things do change, and I’m not changing with them. I feel like I’m being left behind. I need to go out there and find whatever this thing is that I’m missing. But please don’t say anything, all right? I haven’t spoken to Mr. Brody yet—I wanted to find a new position first just in case things don’t work out.”

  “Of course. I won’t say a word.” Miranda squeezed Ruth’s hand. “And I’ll keep my ears open for things that might suit.”

  “Thank you.” Ruth stood up and stifled a yawn. “I think I might be able to sleep now—thanks for letting me unburden my thoughts a little bit.”

  “You’re welcome. Goodnight.”

  Ruth’s soft breathing filled the room a few minutes later, but Miranda stayed in the window seat. Ruth knew something was missing, and she had the courage to go looking for it. Miranda had come to Topeka searching for the things that were missing in her life, but more and more, she was becoming convinced that her missing pieces would only be found somewhere deep inside herself, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to look quite that deeply yet.

  ***

  “Of course, Mrs. Dunbar,” Pastor Osbourne said, shaking the older woman’s hand. “I’ll see to it immediately.”

  Richard gave the lady a nod, and together, he and the pastor stepped off the porch and walked down the lane. “She seems like a devoted parishioner,” he said o
nce they were out of earshot.

  “She’s one of our most regular attendees, and I can always count on her to lead the charge whenever there’s a good work to be done,” Pastor Osbourne replied. “There’s just one thing . . . a slight reluctance on her part to work with my wife.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Pastor Osbourne sighed. “Olivia is the most beautiful, spirited woman I’ve ever met, with a will of iron and a heart of gold. She has tried diligently to mold herself into what she believes a pastor’s wife should be, but she’s not meant for that kind of life. She’s meant to be my companion, not my subordinate, but there are those in the congregation who feel she’s still too outspoken. I wouldn’t have her any other way, though.”

  “You two seem very well suited,” Richard commented.

  “We are—I’ve never been happier in my life. And in truth, I wasn’t always cut out to be a clergyman.” Pastor Osbourne paused, resting his gloved hand on the top rail of the fence they were passing. “I have a son from a previous relationship. He and his mother are doing well, and I visit them once in a while. I don’t regret having him in my life, not for a moment, but I do regret the period of time when I didn’t know God, and I made some selfish choices. I believe in the grace of Jesus Christ, Richard. I believe it because I’ve seen it in my own life time and again. He takes us and He guides us on the paths He wants us to travel and He makes us new—but the trick is listening to Him along the way.”

  Richard gave a nod. He was a little surprised to hear that Pastor Osbourne had fathered a child previously, and it didn’t sound like he’d been married to the child’s mother, but he couldn’t judge the pastor for that. He too believed in grace—it was the concept that had pulled him in the strongest as he’d read through the Bible that first time and every time since.

  “We have a good-sized congregation, as I mentioned before, and I’m glad you’re here to share the responsibility,” Pastor Osbourne said as they continued on their way. “I used to be able to make all my home visits in a timely manner, but as of late, I’m scrambling to keep up. I’m eager to introduce you to everyone. Do you have any qualms about sitting by sickbeds?”