Their Christmas Prayer

“Yes, thanks.” She looked up into a familiar face, with eyes as dark and brooding as a stormy sky—the same blue-gray eyes that had so recently intrigued her across the coffee shop table. Regaining her footing, she caught the strap of her purse before it slipped off her shoulder. “Shaun, right? Hi again. I’m having an unusually klutzy day, apparently.”

“Entirely my fault.” With his free hand, he stuffed his cell phone into his jeans pocket. His furrowed brow and sideways glance suggested his thoughts lingered elsewhere—possibly on a worrisome phone call?

Brooke could easily see why Diana and others might be curious about this mystery man. If Shaun O’Grady wasn’t a rancher, then what did he do for a living? And what profession allowed a guy to take several weeks off so he could hang out with his future brother-in-law until his sister got married?

And since not a single one of these questions was any of her business, she bit her tongue and asked instead, “Weren’t you in a hurry to deliver those supplies?”

“I was. I mean, I am.” Shaun released a tense half chuckle. “And you’ve got that meeting.”

“Right. So I suppose we should both be on our way.”

Neither of them moved.

Then they both moved at the same time and ended up doing an awkward dance in the middle of the path.

Laughing, Brooke held up both hands. “Hold on, okay? I’ll go right, you go left.”

Shaun shuffled from one foot to the other. “Wait—my left, or your left?”

“Um, my left. I think.”

A grin spread across Shaun’s face, the glint of sun in his eyes turning them more blue than gray. He took both her hands. “I think I’ve got this. Just follow my lead.” Taking two giant steps to his right, he moved her in a counterclockwise quarter-circle. “There. Now we’re both headed in the right direction again.”

Fingertips tingling, Brooke freed her hands. She nodded toward the curb. “And I’m guessing that’s your truck over there with all the fencing stuff in the back?”

“My future brother-in-law’s, actually. But yeah.” Looking slightly discomfited, Shaun ran a hand across the curling brown hair at his nape. “Nice running into you again, Miss Willoughby. Hope your meeting goes well.”

“Thanks. Have fun playing rancher, Mr. O’Grady.”

While Shaun jogged toward his pickup, Brooke continued to the end of the block and crossed Main Street. As she pushed open the chamber office door, Shaun drove by on his way around the square. He waved, and she waved back, then shook her head as she stepped into the lobby. The man had definitely piqued her curiosity, and he was certainly easy on the eyes. But since it didn’t sound like he planned on being in Juniper Bluff much longer, she’d do well to put him out of her mind and focus on impressing the board members with everything she hoped to accomplish as the chamber’s new communications manager.

On the drive back to the ranch, Shaun turned up the radio full blast. Kent’s preference for twangy country music didn’t exactly appeal, but maybe it would help get his mind off the unsettling morning he’d just been through. If his introduction to Brooke Willoughby hadn’t been plenty to shake him up, the phone call from missions director Henry Voss more than made up for it.

“We need you back in Jordan, Shaun,” Henry had said. He’d gone on to describe a position overseeing a newly formed network of house churches in Amman. “You’re my number one choice, but I need your answer pretty quick.”

Shaun didn’t feel anywhere near ready to return to full-time service. “I don’t know, Henry. I’m still figuring things out.”

“I understand. Take a couple of weeks to think it over and pray about it. I know God will lead you in the right direction.”

He only wished he shared Henry’s confidence—not in God’s wisdom but in his own ability to discern the Lord’s leading.

Or could this position be God’s answer to Shaun’s confusion? Maybe God just needed him to release his faith struggles and simply trust again. All he had to do was call the director back and say yes.

After parking the pickup next to the barn, he opened the recent calls list on his phone, his thumb hovering over Henry’s name. But the pinch in his gut wouldn’t let him complete the call. Barging from the truck, he stuffed the phone in his pocket. All he wanted right now was to lose himself in the monotony of helping Kent plant fence posts.

So he threw himself into that task, losing track of the time as the relentless work cleared his mind. By early afternoon, they’d set up temporary fencing through a section of pasture and connected the wire to a solar-powered charger. Afterward, Shaun moved out of the way while Kent climbed on Jasmine, his big black cutting horse, to herd several head of cattle into the fenced-off section. Kent said rotating grazing areas helped maintain the ecology of the land. Or something like that. All Shaun knew was that he’d worked up enough of a sweat stomping fence posts into the ground that he no longer needed his quilted flannel jacket.

With the task complete, he waded through knee-high grass and weeds to where he’d parked the pickup on a narrow rutted lane. A few minutes later, he caught up with Kent at the barn. Going cross-country on Jasmine, Kent had made better time and probably enjoyed a smoother ride as well. Bouncing over all those rocks and potholes had been painfully reminiscent of Shaun’s most recent missionary years in Ethiopia. His tailbone still ached at the memory of driving an ancient Land Rover with no shocks over roads better suited for donkeys and goats. Jordan, on the other hand, held much more pleasant memories...but was that incentive enough?

Pocketing the truck keys, he clamped his teeth together. Henry had given him two weeks. If God hadn’t given him a crystal clear no by then, he’d accept the call and start making plans for his return to Jordan, a previous post where he’d felt he really had made a difference. With that much settled for now, he put Henry’s call out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.

While Kent tended to Jasmine, Shaun unloaded the pickup bed and stowed the leftover wire and fence posts in the storage room. As he finished, his sister’s car pulled up outside the barn. He strode out to meet her and was nearly bowled over when Avery, his seven-year-old niece, plowed into him.

“Uncle Shaun, look! I lost another tooth.” Avery tipped her head back and opened her mouth.

“Whoa, you sure did. Hope the tooth fairy was generous.” He dropped to one knee to inspect the newly vacant spot on her upper gum. The shiny serrated edge of a new tooth already peeked through.

Avery cupped her hand around Shaun’s ear. “It’s okay. I know Mom’s really the tooth fairy. And she gave me two whole quarters.”

“Cool. Don’t spend it all in one place.” Tousling his niece’s mop of pale red curls, Shaun pushed to his feet. “Hey, Erin. Back for more wedding planning?”

“If I can tear my cowboy away from his cows. Looks like y’all have been working hard today.” Erin wrinkled her nose as she came closer. “Smells like it, too. Watch out, or Kent will make a rancher of you yet.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Then Shaun got a whiff of himself. “On second thought, maybe you should, at least until I get cleaned up.”

They all entered the farmhouse, and Shaun made quick work of going to his room, discarding his soiled clothes and washing up.

By the time Shaun came downstairs in a fresh polo shirt and jeans, Kent had already cleaned up, too. He and Erin had just sat down at the kitchen table with glasses of iced tea and their wedding planning notebook.

Kent motioned Shaun over. “Pour yourself some tea and join us. I’m supposed to be picking a groom’s cake and I need another male’s perspective.”

“Afraid I wouldn’t be much help in the cake department. Think I’ll see what Avery’s watching on TV.” Shaun started for the living room.

“Uh-uh, big brother.” Erin patted the chair next to her. “Sit down a minute. There’s something else we’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Erin’s elfin smile belied the hint of something more serious in her tone. Figuring this didn’t involve cake selections, Shaun cautiously lowered himself into the chair. “I’m not the guy to give advice about tuxes or flowers either, in case you were wondering.”

“Actually...” Erin reached for her fiancé’s hand, and Kent scooted closer. They both looked slightly nervous. “What we wanted to ask—I mean, with you being an ordained minister—”

Palms outward, he leaned back in the chair. “I think I know where this is going, and the answer is no.”

“But it would mean so much to have my brother officiate at our wedding. Please, Shaun, would you at least think about it?”

“I’m honored and touched that you would ask, but I’m not ready to—” His mouth went dry. He couldn’t meet his sister’s gaze. “Sorry, I just can’t do it.” He shoved up from the table and marched upstairs.

Alone in the guest room, he sank onto the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Didn’t they understand how messed up he was? When he couldn’t even discern God’s will for his own life, what made them think he could bestow a proper blessing on their marriage? After all his sister had been through with her abusive first husband and starting over after their divorce, she deserved only the best.

It was Greg, the eldest of the O’Grady siblings, who’d had the bright idea Shaun should spend some time in Juniper Bluff after returning from his most recent—and most discouraging—missionary assignment. This was supposed to be a kind of sabbatical, reconnecting with himself and with God. So far, all he had to show for it was more confusion, along with several new calluses from the hard labor of ranch work.

He wished he had the sense of direction of the woman he’d met this morning—Brooke Willoughby. An image of her crept into his thoughts. There was a woman who knew where she was going. She might display a few nervous twinges about settling into her new job, but underneath it all she exuded professionalism and self-assurance. True, he couldn’t deny the irrational spark of attraction he’d felt, but besides the fact that they were both new in town, what could they possibly have in common?

Not that it mattered, since their paths weren’t likely to cross again anytime soon.

Then why, absurdly, did he wish somehow they would?

Chapter Two (#u174fdc10-0f95-50f0-ab1b-5ca8c144fb68)

Leaving the sanctuary with Kent, Erin and Avery after worship on Sunday morning, Shaun glimpsed a familiar cascade of honey-brown curls. So much for discounting his chances of running into Brooke Willoughby. This was small-town Juniper Bluff, after all. Engaged in a spirited conversation with Diana from the doughnut shop and another woman, she didn’t notice him as he walked past.