Her guts twisted all over again. “Carl, please…”
“Damn it, Courtney. One trip to church, that’s all Mom and Dad wanted. One day to think about Shaun and spend some time with you. And you’re in bed with some guy who knocked you up. In Shaun’s house.”
Tears stung at her eyes. The thought of letting Ellis and Mary down made her heart ache. They didn’t deserve it, not after all they’d been through.
What about what you’ve been through?
She shook her head at the voice in her head. Because she wouldn’t let herself think like that. Shaun’s death had been horrific, but she had a future now. But Ellis and Mary would never get over his loss.
“I’ll tell them you’ll meet them at the big house,” Carl said, sighing. “Don’t let them down again. They don’t deserve it.”
It was as though he could read her darkest thoughts. “I’ll be there,” she promised. Carl ended the call, and she put the phone back on the table.
“You okay?” Logan asked, his voice thick with sleep.
She made herself smile. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice bright. “I guess we overslept.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I guess we did.” Reaching for her, he pulled her down until his lips were warm against hers. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his mouth moving against hers.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, closing her eyes as he began to kiss her, pushing her back on the bed and covering her body with his.
Why was it that just being with him made everything seem right, even though she knew it was wrong?
She had no idea, but she kissed him back anyway.
It was raining by the time Logan left for his brother’s house right after eleven that morning. Courtney checked on the chickens, topping up their feed, before piling gifts onto the passenger seat of her rusty red truck, and driving around the perimeter road to Mary and Ellis’s farmhouse.
She’d spent every Christmas here since marrying Shaun. It wasn’t as though she had any other family to visit, with her mom passing years before, and her dad remarried and living far away.
Pulling up, she looked out of the windshield. A curtain of drizzle half-obscured the old house. The two-storied fascia was covered with white-painted boards, some peeling to reveal the bare wood beneath. A grey-tiled porch overhung the front steps, as long as the house itself. She knew that in the summer Mary would sit on the rocking chair and crochet as Ellis finished up his chores.
Climbing out of the cab, Courtney ran around the front of the truck, holding her hand above her head in a vain attempt to ward off the rain. She leaned into the passenger seat and slid her hands beneath the pile of gifts, then kicked the door closed as she hurried up the steps to the front door.
Like Courtney, Mary and Ellis rarely locked their front door. Courtney wasn’t even sure if they had a key to it. There was always somebody home, usually Mary. And in the summer, Ellis would be within hollering distance in the fields.
Still, she knocked anyway, wary of surprising them. Ellis’s low voice called out for her to come in, and she pushed the handle down with her elbow, her arms still full of gifts, and hitched her hip against the wood, the door opening with a creek.
“It’s me,” she called out.
“Come in,” Mary pushed herself up from the old wing-back chair by the fireplace, a warm smile on her face. “Get yourself in out of that rain. It started as we came out of church. Carl made us wait beneath the awning while he drove around to pick us up.”
Courtney put the gifts she was carrying on the coffee table in the center of the room. Like everything else in here, it was old. When they’d first married, Shaun had told her the farmhouse hadn’t been decorated since before Ellis brought Mary home as his wife. They were too busy working in the summer, and in the winter nobody had the desire to be painting or wallpapering.
And yet there was something so homely about it. The threadbare couch was covered with quilts Mary had stitched over the years, and every table bore the rings and scratches from generations of Roberts who had farmed here. It was like a piece of living history – something Courtney never had until she’d arrived in Hartson’s Creek.
“I’m so sorry I missed church,” Courtney said, hugging Mary tight. “I overslept.” It was the truth, even if she still felt bad saying it.
“Oh sweetie, there’s no need to apologize.” Mary hugged her back. “I remember how hard it is being pregnant. Bo
th times I slept more than I was awake.” She stepped back, wrapping her hand around Courtney’s. “Now you sit down next to the fire and warm up. I’ll make you a warm drink.”
“I can help.”
“Oh no you don’t. Now do as you’re told and put your feet up.” Mary’s voice was firm. “Ellis!” she called out. “Courtney’s here.”
“Is Carl here?” Courtney looked around for signs of their son.
“He’s on shift this afternoon, so he headed home to get changed,” Mary told her.