The Prodigal's Christmas Reunion

Erin ran a damp dishcloth over the refrigerator door and erased another smudge of green frosting.

The table resembled an artist’s palette and flour dusted the floor, making it look as if her kitchen had been the target of an early snow. By the time Erin pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven, Max had been coated in a thin layer of frosting and sprinkles, looking a bit like one of the gingerbread men lining the counter.

She couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

Max was one hundred percent boy. Bright. Energetic. Inquisitive. And heartbreakingly sweet.

The trouble was, Erin had already had her heart broken once.

She turned the handle of the faucet with a little more force than was necessary.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to agree to babysit.

But somehow, Max’s wide, little boy grin had pushed every one of her doubts about keeping her distance from Lucas aside.

She padded down the hallway to the living room, where she’d left Max playing with the nativity set while she straightened up the kitchen. The wooden figurines had fascinated him. Erin had answered a dozen questions about each piece and tried to explain, in a way that a four year old could understand, why there was a baby sleeping inside the miniature barn.

Max’s lack of knowledge about the Christmas story made her heart ache.

As the son of a medical missionary, Lucas knew the Bible inside and out, but he had turned his back on his faith when they were in high school. He’d told Erin that he probably wouldn’t be able to live up to God’s expectations any more than he could his father’s, so why even try?

And even though Lucas had walked away from her, too, Erin had never stopped praying that he would eventually find his way back to God. Over the past few days, she’d felt the burden to pray for him even more.

There’s a reason You brought Lucas back to Clayton, Lord. Show him that You love him and help him let go of the past. Max needs Lucas to be a loving father…and Lucas needs You to show him how.

Peeking around the corner, she spotted the boy curled up on the sofa next to Winston, sound asleep, the ragged tail of his blanket clutched in one small hand.

An image of Lucas, holding the rumpled square of bright green fleece, rose up in her mind. He’d retrieved the blanket from the truck and brought it up to the house to give to Max before he’d left. Erin had been touched by the gesture, but the self-conscious look on Lucas’s face told her that he wasn’t comfortable with his new role.

Erin wasn’t completely comfortable with it, either.

He belongs to me.

Lucas. A father.

How many hours had she spent doodling their names in her notebook during study hall? Planning their wedding? Their family?

Their future.

Until he’d set out on his own and crushed every one of those girlish fantasies. Erin’s faith had been the only thing holding her together during those first few days. And as those days turned into months and the months became years, new dreams eventually began to kindle from the ashes of the ones that had once revolved around Lucas.

If you keep looking back, you might miss something good that’s right there in front of you.

One of her mom’s many pearls of wisdom. And one that Erin had finally taken to heart. It was the reason she kept a smile on her face and her calendar full. Every morning she asked God to teach her contentment—to show her the good that was right in front of her.

And right now, no matter how conflicted her feelings for Lucas Clayton might be, the “good” in front of her was Max.

As Erin leaned down to tuck a corner of the blanket more snuggly around his thin shoulders, she heard a soft knock on the front door.

By the time she reached the doorframe, Lucas already stood in the front hallway. And once again, her traitorous heart stalled at the sight of him.

Lucas had always been good-looking, but the last seven years had wrought subtle changes. At six foot two, he still towered above her, but he was no longer the lanky teenager that Erin remembered. The sun had permanently stained his skin a golden-bronze, a striking contrast to those incredible blue eyes. Clayton blue, Erin had heard someone call them once.

Erin remembered Lucas rolling his eyes when she’d repeated the comment.

“First we get a town named after us and now a color. What’s next? A mountain range? A national monument?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the name Clayton.” Erin had given him a playful swat on the arm.

Lucas had smiled that slow smile that never failed to melt her heart like butter in a hot skillet. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

Erin had been afraid to read too much into the statement. Until Lucas had leaned forward and kissed her.

Her first kiss…

Don’t. Look. Back.

Erin silently repeated the words. Lucas Clayton happened to be part of her past and, thanks to George Sr.’s will, an unexpected part of her present. But he was definitely not a part of her future.

That’s what she needed to remember.

“Lucas.” She flashed a polite smile—the same one that every cowboy who came into the café received with a cup of coffee.

He drove a hand through his hair and snowflakes drifted down like bits of silver confetti. “I’m sorry it’s so late. Is Max ready to leave?”

“He’s sound asleep.”

“Right.” Lucas sighed. “He usually takes a nap around this time. I’ll carry him out to the truck.”

Something in the weary slump of his shoulders tugged at her conscience.

“Would you like to thaw out with a cup of coffee first?” Erin couldn’t believe she’d said the words. Out loud.

And Lucas hesitated just long enough to make her wish she could take back the invitation.

Chapter Five

“Sure.” The husky rumble of Lucas’s voice scraped away another layer from her defenses. “I appreciate it.”

No problem.

Erin wanted to say the words but they got stuck in her throat. She was all too aware of Lucas as he followed her into the kitchen.

He let out a low whistle. “Max must have slept a long time.”

“What makes you say that?”

One eyebrow lifted. “The ten dozen Christmas cookies on your counter?”