Chapter 29

G.o.d gave the angels wings and humans chocolate.-Mrs. Miracle

The twins were down, and Sharon and Jerry had headed for bed at a ridiculously early hour, and now Seth was left alone to deal with his thoughts. Try as he might, he couldn't forget the look of hurt and disillusionment on Reba's face when she'd walked out the door.

But what she'd asked of him was impossible. He hadn't touched a keyboard in four years. She seemed to believe he could pick up where he'd left off and play in public with less than twenty-four hours' notice. Talk about unrealistic. Talk about absurd. She wasn't even making sense.

He refused to think about it any longer. Having nothing better to do, Seth sat down in front of the television and reached for the remote control. He'd started to surf through the channels when Mrs. Merkle waltzed into the room with a feather duster. He'd started to surf through the channels when Mrs. Merkle waltzed into the room with a feather duster.

"Don't pay me any mind, Mr. Webster," she said as she breezed past him. "With so much to do tomorrow, I want to finish up what housework I can this evening. I'll be out of your way before you know it."

Seth leaned his head against the cushion and waited patiently while she dusted off the top of the television. He noticed that she stood directly in front of the screen, blocking the view.

"Christmas Eve is almost upon us. My oh my, how the days fly by. I don't suppose you've noticed how excited the twins are to be a part of the church program. They're going to be the best little angels on G.o.d's green earth. It would be a terrible letdown to them if the pageant had to be canceled."

Seth frowned. He heard the censure in his housekeeper's voice but didn't know if it was real or imagined. He did notice that it seemed to be taking her an inordinate amount of time to dust.

"I feel so bad for Reba. I don't know how she'll ever find someone to play the piano at this late date." She turned and looked deliberately at him.

"Emily, stop."

She hesitated, the feather duster clenched in one hand. "Stop? You want me to stop dusting?"

"Yes." His wishes were simple and direct. He'd suffered enough recriminations without his housekeeper adding to his guilt. "I'll finish up myself later." housekeeper adding to his guilt. "I'll finish up myself later."

"As you wish."

She left, and Seth heaved a sigh of relief. He soon realized that he'd underestimated the woman the children called Mrs. Miracle. Before he could refocus his attention on the b.o.o.b tube, Emily returned, this time with the vacuum cleaner in tow.

Without a pause she plugged it in and ran it across the carpet in front of him with the determination of a woman intent on wiping out the plague of household dust in her lifetime. It amazed him that the carpet remained glued to the floorboard.

"Emily!" he shouted.

She turned off the vacuum and cast him a look of pure innocence. "You wanted something, Mr. Webster?"

"How about some peace?" he said between clenched teeth.

"Peace," she repeated as though this were a foreign word she couldn't translate. "If you're looking for peace, then I suggest you search for it within yourself."

"Oh no," he said, wagging his index finger at her. "You aren't going to start in with those crazy sayings of yours, not to me. Don't try to tell me silence isn't always golden, that it's sometimes just plain yellow."

"Oh, excellent," she said, her entire face brightening, "but I never said that. Dear Abby did, or perhaps it was Ann Landers."

"You know what I mean," he challenged, in no mood to lock horns with the housekeeper.

Arms akimbo, Mrs. Merkle stood squarely in front of him. "She needs a piano player, and furthermore she needs you almost as much as you need her. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

He glared at the woman, wishing he had the courage to fire her on the spot. It was what she deserved for interfering in his personal affairs, but he wouldn't last a week without her and he knew it.

"If you let Reba down now, you'll regret it the rest of your life."

She sounded so sure, so self-confident. He hesitated, and she closed in for the kill. "Ask yourself what Pamela would want you to do."

Seth squeezed his eyes closed. Pamela. This sacrifice had been for her-in her honor, a tribute to what they'd shared. It was a way of forever remembering his wife. A way of hanging on to his fears.

The moment the words went through his mind, Seth recognized the truth of them. His vow over Pamela's grave had been a convenient excuse to offer Reba. The truth was that he was afraid: only a fool would step in and play the piano for the Christmas pageant at this late date.

"Or someone with little to lose and lots to gain," the older woman said, cutting into his thoughts.

Seth looked at Mrs. Merkle. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't say anything," she said, and pushed the vacuum into the next room.

"I thought-"

"Are you going to help Reba or not?" she demanded impatiently. She planted one hand against her ample hip and glared at him.

"I...don't know."

"Well, you'd better decide soon. You don't have all day, you know." Having had her say, she disappeared. At last Seth had the peace and quiet he'd asked for, but it didn't help. He was more agitated now than he'd been with Emily waving a feather duster under his nose.

Dammit all! There was no help for it. Pamela would have been the first person to encourage him to step in and help, for the children's sake, if for no other reason. He wasn't happy about it, but he was also aware there would be no rest for him until he agreed.

The decision made, he decided to phone Reba. Few things could have surprised him more than to find she wasn't at home. He waited until the answering machine clicked in and then said with a complete lack of graciousness, "All right, you win. I'll do it. Get the sheet music to me as soon as you can."

Seth's accusations burned like branding irons in her mind as Reba sat in her car outside her sister's home. She'd never spoken to her sister about what happened that fateful night. She certainly hadn't given either John or her sister an opportunity to explain. It wasn't in her to listen to their excuses, their justifications. The minute she'd found her sister with John, she'd blocked out all feelings for both of them.

Or so she wanted to believe.

Then she'd run into her sister at the toy store. What Seth had said was true: they were both in anguish, both hurting, both miserable. It was seeing Ellen for the first time-the niece she'd never held, never laughed with or cuddled-that had done it. For so many years Reba had begrudged Vicki happiness, at the cost of her own. Then she'd found Seth...a miracle, a gift from G.o.d. And now, once again, for the sake of perpetuating her resentment toward her sister, she was about to throw away everything she yearned for.

Perhaps what Seth had said was true about the real reasons she'd agreed to marry John. Reba didn't want to examine his accusations too closely. a.s.signing blame was far too tiring. She was through with it.

It demanded a great deal of courage to walk up to the front door and ring the bell. An eternity pa.s.sed before the porch light went on and the door opened. Doug stood on the other side.

"Reba?" He held open the screen door for her.

"I'd like to talk to Vicki," she explained.

Her brother-in-law hesitated, as if he weren't sure he could trust her. "Is there a problem with your parents?"

She liked Doug and the way he acted to protect Vicki. "No. The problem's between my sister and me. I need to talk to her."

"Doug, who is it?"

He glanced over his shoulder, waited a moment, and then announced, "Your sister."

Vicki appeared from the hallway almost immediately. Ellen rode her hip, dressed in Minnie Mouse pajamas, her wet hair combed back, her eyes filled with simple joy and laughter.

It looked as though Doug were ready to stand guard over his wife and daughter, protect them both from her, if necessary.

"Reba." Vicki's round, dark eyes revealed her surprise. "Could you give us a few minutes alone?" she requested of her husband. She handed him the child and walked quietly into the living room.

Reba followed. Now that she was here, now that she'd crossed the bridge and was facing the woman she'd actively resented for four long years, she found all she could do was weep. The years of keeping her anger alive, of feeding her resentment and pain, left her feeling as though she were drowning in emotion. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her face, despite her almost frantic efforts to keep them at bay. Her throat felt raw. She'd wasted so much time feeding her pain, when the person she'd hurt the most had been herself.

For years she'd been telling herself how much she hated Vicki. For years she'd closed herself off from her family and friends. For years she'd tabulated the wrongs committed against her, when all along she'd missed her sister desperately. Her best friend. Her own flesh and blood.

When she found the courage to look toward Vicki, she found her sister sitting across from her, tears running unrestrainedly down her cheeks. She offered Reba a gentle smile and then bit into her lower lip as if she were afraid to speak.

"Ellen is a beautiful little girl," Reba whispered. It was all the voice she had, and it came out choked and breathy.

"I named her after you. Ellen Louise." Vicki rubbed the heel of her hand down her cheeks and sniffled. "Oh, Reba, I'm so sorry, so very sorry." She lowered her face. "You have every reason to hate me.... What I did was despicable. You don't know how I hated myself afterward...how..."

"Don't," Reba said, her voice surprisingly strong.

Vicki looked up to meet her eyes.

"I know you're sorry, it's unnecessary to say it again. The reason I've come is to apologize to you. My unwillingness to forgive you has hurt everyone. You. Mom and Dad, and probably most profoundly, me. I came because...because I need you to forgive me!" most profoundly, me. I came because...because I need you to forgive me!"

Vicki stood, walked over to where Reba sat, and got down on her knees.

With a soft cry of joy Reba wrapped her arms around her sister, and the two hugged and openly wept.

Chapter 30

Fear not for I bring you tidings of great joy.-A personal friend of Mrs. Miracle

Seth sat down at the church piano, poised his fingers over the yellowed ivory keyboard, and hesitated. He had studied the music, and the notes rang loud and clear in his head long before his fingers struck the keys. The first song, "Joy to the World," was one of his favorites, one he'd often played during the holidays because Pamela had loved it, too.

The last time he'd played the carol had been the Christmas before the accident, while his wife had sung the solo in front of the church.

He forced the memory from his mind and pressed his fingers upon the keys. Convinced his talent would be rusty following a four-year sabbatical, he'd arrived two hours early to practice. The music flowed. From his heart and from his soul. Joy mingled with sadness, and to his wonder, the joy drowned out the sorrow. It was as though he'd sat and practiced hours every one of those days away from the piano.

He wasn't the only one who noticed. Reba stepped out from behind the painted manger scene, paused, and stared. The joyous notes filled the church, resounding through the building, amplified until the music swelled and echoed like a chorus of angels.

"Oh, Seth," she whispered when he'd finished, awe in her voice. "That was lovely. I don't know when I've heard the carol played more beautifully."

Her praise embarra.s.sed him, and he fumbled with the sheet music. "You'll be able to cue me, won't you?"

"Of course." She walked to the far edge of the stage. "I'll be standing here. Emily and a couple of other volunteers are seeing to everything backstage. They'll get the children where they're supposed to be. The others are seeing to the costumes and everything else backstage. My job is to cue you when to play and usher the actors and actresses on and off the stage."

Seth ran his fingers up and down the scales, marveling in the sense of freedom and joy he experienced. If not for practical reasons, he would have sat at the piano all day. What Reba had said about him letting go of his grief was true. He felt as if the shackles had lifted from his heart, and his spirit soared in jubilation. about him letting go of his grief was true. He felt as if the shackles had lifted from his heart, and his spirit soared in jubilation.

"I don't know how to thank you," Reba said when he'd finished.

He grinned. "I'll think of something," he said, and then lowered his voice. "Preferably something that involves leather and lace."

She smiled and lingered, then walked around the piano. Although they hadn't known each other long, he was beginning to understand and appreciate her. Something was on her mind. He also knew that she'd tell him in her own good time.

"My sister's coming this evening," she said shyly.

Seth noticed the slight tremble in her voice.

"What you said hit home."

He regretted that now, because he'd spoken in anger. "It wasn't my place to berate you, and you were right: it was a prime example of the pot calling the kettle black."

"Vicki and I talked half the night; she didn't make any excuses for what happened, but I know in my heart that John seduced her. She's changed so much, and she says I have, too." Her eyes misted. "Thank you for giving my sister back to me."

He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. "Don't credit me with that. You're the one responsible."

"But I never would have gone to see her if it hadn't been for you. I was terribly afraid."

"It was a courageous thing to do after all this time."

"Ironically, going to see Vicki wasn't what frightened me," she said. "Losing you was." This last confession was followed by a noticeable gasp, as though she'd said more than she intended. "You were the first man who didn't run to hide at my obvious emotional problems."

"Two wounded souls reaching out to help one another," he added. "My guess is that we were brought together for a specific purpose."

"The Christmas program," she suggested tentatively, moving to stand behind him. She looped her arms around his neck.

"For the pageant? Perhaps, but I have the distinct notion that we were meant to be together for a lifetime. You've brought sunshine into my shade-filled existence." He wasn't a poet, and he didn't know the words to express all that was in his heart. Of one thing he was confident: they were meant to be together. G.o.d had brought this incredible woman into his life. He was grateful for the years he'd had with Pamela and the two children she'd borne him. He loved her and always would, but the love he felt for his dead wife was different. Loving Reba took nothing away from Pamela. Having loved Pamela increased his ability to reveal his devotion to Reba.

He brought his hands back onto the keyboard. A smile came to his heart.

Judd readjusted the belt and sword and squared his shoulders as he raced off the stage and back to Emily's side.