Lori Wick Short Stories, Christmas Special Page 3

  “Jesus Christ is God, Brenda.”

  “Okay.”

  “You knew that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Death can’t keep God down, Brenda. They put Him in the grave and sealed the door with a huge rock, but no seal can keep God inside. He’s God and He has the power over death. Nothing could keep God in the grave—not the huge rock or the soldiers waiting outside. He rose again. “Arose” means he came back to life.”

  “He arose,” Brenda stated.

  “That’s right.”

  “I didn’t know that word.”

  Gary smiled. “All this time you thought God sent His Son away from Him forever.”

  Brenda nodded. “But He didn’t.”

  “No, He didn’t.”

  Gary wasn’t sure what to expect next, but Brenda’s asking to be excused surprised him.

  “Has our talk upset you, honey?”

  “No. I just want to go to my room for a while.”

  “All right.”

  “Oh,” Brenda’s hand came to her mouth. “I forgot about the dishes.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll finish, but come and see me if you decide you want to talk.”

  “All right.”

  Gary hugged her as she slid off his lap and then sat quietly as she left the room. He was sitting very still some 20 minutes later when Maggie came looking for him. He held his hand out to her and she took Brenda’s chair.

  “Pray with me, Maggie. Pray that Brenda understands this time.”

  “I understand now,” Brenda sat in her room and told God, “but I’m not too sure if I can do what Gary and Maggie have done. They live for You every day, and sometimes I forget You’re even there. I don’t mean to, but I do.” Her little heart sighed very softly. “Last week Maggie had a headache, but she still had Bible study. I don’t know if I can be so good like that all the time.”

  All at once the little girl ran out of things to say, and in that instant she remembered the words of her teacher, the ones about the way people try to wrap themselves up to look pretty, but they’re not pretty inside. Brenda suddenly knew she was trying to do that.

  “If you still want me,” she whispered to God, “I’ll do my best.”

  Brenda’s eyes were wide the night of the Christmas Eve service, and Gary, Maggie, and Mark all noticed her awestruck expression. She was quieter than usual, but there was also a special serenity about her. She stood in wonder over the service, the singing, and the candles, and then nearly trembled with excitement when it was time to go home and open gifts.

  It was a wonderful evening, full of love and surprises. Gary loved his book, and Maggie’s eyes shone when she saw the sweater. Mark and Brenda shared conspiratorial looks when they watched her hold the soft yarn to her cheek.

  An hour later, the floor littered with boxes, bows, and wrap, Mark pressed a small gift into his mother’s hand.

  “I thought you gave me a gift.”

  “Well,” he smiled. “This is just one more.”

  She weighed it a moment and then laughed.

  “I think it’s empty.”

  “You’ll have to open it to find out.”

  Maggie smiled at him and picked at the tape. Inside was a business card with Mark’s name on it. Maggie studied it, looked to her husband, and then looked back at Mark.

  “Is this one of your old ones, dear? It has a Minnesota address.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she understood.

  “Oh, Mark.” Tears flooded her eyes, and Gary jumped up from her side to go to his boy. He wrapped his arms around him, and when he broke away, his eyes were suspiciously moist.

  “February,” Mark told them with a beaming smile. “I’ll have to go back to Europe for about a month, but then it’s a permanent move to this office.”

  There were hugs all around as Brenda joined in the fun, delighted that Mark would not be going away for good. The next few minutes were spent cleaning the floor. All papers were checked so that nothing of value would be thrown away.

  “It sure is a lot of paper,” Brenda commented.

  “Yes, it is,” Gary agreed, “and now that reminds me.” He reached into his breast pocket, as though he’d really forgotten, and pulled out a piece of paper. “I have one more gift for you.”

  Brenda was unaware of the way both Maggie and Mark had stopped what they were doing in order to watch the scene.

  “This is for me?” She looked at the folded paper.

  “Yes,” Gary told her.

  Brenda opened it, the eyes behind the lenses very serious. She studied the official looking document, but then looked to Gary.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, you don’t have to read it. I’ll just tell you that it says that Brenda May Small is now Brenda May Hartman, and that her parents are Gary and Maggie Hartman.”

  Brenda’s little mouth fell open. “For real?”

  “For real,” Gary told her, his eyes flooding with tears.

  “You’re my dad now?”

  “I’m your dad now.”

  Brenda flew into his arms, and Gary cried unashamedly against her little shoulder. She was still so frail, and he had admitted to God that it would be the hardest thing he’d ever done if he’d been asked to let her go.

  From Gary’s arms she went to Maggie, who held her close for a long time, her own heart so full she couldn’t speak. At last Mark hugged her.

  “That makes you my brother,” Brenda told him, her face alight.

  “Yes, it does.” He barely managed the words.

  “For real.”

  “For real,” he agreed as he gently kissed her brow.

  They sat up much too late, eating popcorn and watching White Christmas, and it was a very sleepy daughter that Gary carried off to bed. He was tucking her gently under the covers, expecting her to remove her glasses and hearing aids so he could lay them on the nightstand, when she took his hand.

  “I had another present too, Gary,” she said softly. “But I didn’t have a paper.”

  “Oh? What was it?”

  “It was a talk present.”

  “You wanted to tell us something?”

  Brenda’s head nodded against the pillow.

  “Can you tell me now?”

  “After we talked that night, I told God that if He still wanted me, I would do my best. And then tonight during the service, I thanked God that Jesus died for my sins. Did I do all right, Gary? Did I believe all right?”

  “Oh, Brenda.” Gary was overcome and could only gather her back into his arms.

  “I love you, Gary,” she whispered close to his ear, “and I love it that God is just like you.”

  Gary didn’t try to correct her. There would be time. She knew now; she understood. Her little heart had opened up to the truth, and just as she now belonged to Gary and Maggie, she was God’s child as well. Mark’s move back to the states and Brenda’s becoming their daughter were gifts beyond price, but when a man was able to take his children into eternity with him—this was the greatest Christmas gift of all.

  A Note from Lori: I never know how characters are going to affect me before I start writing about them, so each one is a surprise. I had Brenda in my mind for a long time, and I knew she would be special, but if I may be honest with you: She completely melts my heart. No matter how many times I read this story, I am filled with emotion and tears that I can’t stem. I love Brenda’s innocence and honesty. I love it that when she learned all the facts, she knew the only thing left to do was to trust in Jesus Christ. May we all be so trusting and ready to open our hearts to the Lord.

  Keep reading for more bonus material in the Christmas Special of the Lori Wick Short Stories collection!

  free sample: The Hawk and the Jewel by Lori Wick

  free sample: Ring of Secrets by Roseanna M. White

  More eBooks in the Lori Wick Short Stories Collection

  Other Books by Lori Wick

  The Hawk and the Jewel

&
nbsp; Enjoy this special selection from The Hawk and the Jewel, the first book in Lori Wick’s famous Kensington Chronicles.

  Prologue

  LONDON 1832

  THE CASKET DIPPED PRECARIOUSLY in the hands of the sailors as it was carried toward the docks. Lord Randolph Gallagher, Marquess of Woodburn, watched their progress and found himself flinching with pain, even though his wife felt nothing. The ship on which he had just sailed from the Arabian Sea, a ship he had felt anxious to leave for weeks, now held a type of solace. His eyes followed the men’s descent down the gangway, but he was somehow hesitant to follow.

  A massive coach pulled up behind the waiting hearse, and Lord Gallagher recognized it immediately. Still he did not move from his place on the deck of the Katherine Ann. Not until the small, white, strained face of his mother appeared in the window did his feet propel him forward.

  He came to a halt just outside her window, the height of the coach as well as his own putting their faces at eye level.

  “Is it true? Is it true what your message said?”

  “It’s true; Katherine is dead.”

  “And Sunny?” she whispered.

  Randolph only shook his head. “There was no trace of her.”

  The older woman, small as she was, seemed to shrink before his eyes. “I can’t believe it, Rand. If she were gone, I know I would feel it within me. I just can’t believe she’s dead too.”

  Randolph’s eyes were filled with compassion. He’d had weeks on the voyage home to come to grips with the deaths of his wife and young daughter, but for his family the news was just hours old. With another check on the hearse, Randolph joined his mother in the coach. He listened to her whisper, again telling herself it just could not be.

  Randolph stayed silent, praying that his mother would soon accept the death of her tiny namesake. He knew that until she did, she would give her heart no chance to heal.

  His thoughts were drawn away from his mother as the coach lurched into motion. His mind moved to the faces of his three other children. They would have to be told, and swiftly, that their mother and sister were dead.

  One

  DARHABAR

  MAY 3, 1844

  THE EMIR’S WARD PEEKED OUT OF THE SHADOWY DOORWAY into the empty courtyard beyond. The way seemed clear, but she knew well that looks could be deceiving. When she was certain that all would be safe, Shani crossed on silent feet.

  The guards, standing unnoticed in their respective places, let her pass. She’d been sneaking across the outer courtyard since before her fifth year. Even though they were supposed to stop her, they never did—for Shani was their ruler’s favorite. Nevertheless, before she reached the emir’s chambers, her actions had been reported.

  Ahmad Khan, ruler of Darhabar, dismissed the young slave girl attending him with only a brief move of his head. Ali, his chief advisor, had appeared in the entryway of his private chambers. There was a need to speak privately. The two men, long-time friends, settled themselves comfortably on the pillows and spoke in low tones.

  “She will be here momentarily,” Ali told his sovereign ruler.

  “I understand she came across the courtyard.”

  “That is why I’m here,” Ali went on. “It’s a sign that she’s feeling restless again. She will no doubt wish to speak of England.”

  Ahmad nodded thoughtfully. Nearly 13 years ago, a child and her mother had been brought to the palace. The child, whom they guessed to be past her second birthday, was clinging to the mother who, after nearly drowning, was on the brink of death.

  Ahmad could see that she was a beautiful woman. Even in her injured state that was obvious. He would have kept her for himself, if she had survived. Within days of her death the father had come looking for them, but by then Ahmad was so taken with the beautiful child that he had lied about ever seeing her.

  The grieving husband was taken to his wife’s body. Katherine Gallagher was beautifully prepared, wrapped in cloth that had been dipped in rich spices. Without delay she was taken aboard her husband’s vessel, and without the slightest twinge of guilt the emir had gone to the tower and watched them sail away.

  From that point, discreet inquiries were made in England as to the child’s home and the rest of her family. But before word returned to the palace, Ahmad had named her Shani. Her name meant “wondrous,” and indeed she was wondrous in his eyes. She had a head full of chestnut-colored curls and violet eyes. Never had he seen eyes of such a color.

  She was the delight of his world as she grew. There was never a day that she was not allowed entrance into his chambers. If one of his wives or concubines had joined him for the night, Shani was kept away, but if he was in the palace, she was allowed to seek him out. He was closer to her than all but two other members of his entire household: his chief advisor, Ali, and his favorite wife, Indira.

  Indira had never given him a daughter. She had blessed him with five healthy sons, the oldest of whom was the heir to the throne, but never a girl. Shani became Indira’s girl as well as his own. Indira loved her as her own child, and there was never a jealous moment between them. This could not be said of Ahmad’s other wives, concubines, and children. However, no harm ever befell Shani since the entire palace kept her in their eye. Her status as his favorite brought much protection; it also brought her privileges she should not have had.

  “She will be here shortly, my prince,” Ali said, reverting to the name he’d called the emir through the years his father had been on the throne.

  Ahmad nodded decisively. “Stay within hearing this day. If you are right, and she does want to talk of her home, we will take it as a sign. You know what to do.”

  Ali stood and bowed low. He slipped behind a semitransparent screen just as Shani’s presence was announced.

  “I think, little one, that your mind is not on our game today.”

  Shani lay back against the pillows and stared broodingly at the chessboard. “I was in the tower yesterday,” she admitted softly, since it was strictly forbidden.

  “And at the stables the day before that, and in the courtyard today,” Ahmad added dryly. “Somehow I do not think your mind is on your sins.”

  Shani shook her head in agreement, but then she leaned forward, her youth showing in the clear, guileless depths of her eyes. “There was an English ship in the harbor. I couldn’t see very well, but there appeared to be two women on board. They wore long dresses and scarves on their heads, but their faces were bare.”

  Ahmad’s heart sank, although his face gave nothing away. He’d expected as much, but his suspicions didn’t make what was about to commence easier. He had thought through the next few years carefully, and knew what must be done. Over Shani’s shoulder, he watched Ali rise and move silently from the chamber.

  “And you wish,” Ahmad once again gave the girl his full attention, “that you could be on board the ship too.”

  “Oh, please, Poppy,” she used her baby name for him. “I promise to stay out of the courtyard and the stables for an entire moon.”

  Ahmad shook his head indulgently. “We shall see.”

  It was the closest he’d ever come to agreeing, and Shani threw her arms around his neck. His other children never approached him without permission, but he had always allowed spontaneity with his Shani.

  Shani was no better an opponent after hearing the good news; if anything, she was more preoccupied than before. So when another ten minutes passed, and she asked to be excused, Ahmad granted her wish without hesitation.

  Ali entered the chamber a moment later, watching his master’s face for emotion. At first glance Ahmad’s look was guarded, but upon closer inspection, grief showed within his eyes.

  “Have you taken care of the matter, Ali?”

  “I have.”

  “So now we wait,” Ahmad said, and his eyes filled with pain. Ali, upon seeing that pain, sensed his ruler’s need to be alone.

  Two

  SHANI MADE HER WAY QUIETLY THROUGH THE PALACE and back to her own
chambers. She slipped out of the short lavender vest she wore and kicked off the silky purple pants that hung just below her navel and were banded at the ankles.

  She studied her naked reflection in the mirror for long minutes before slipping quietly out the door and into the bathing chamber. No one ever used the pools at this time of the afternoon, and Shani, beginning to feel self-conscious over her lack of curves, preferred to bathe alone.

  “Fourteen years old,” she said miserably as she swam in lazy circles, “with no breasts, no hips, and legs as long and straight as a boy’s. Poppy will have to pay someone to take me to wife.”

  “Talking to yourself, Shani?”

  Shani laughed softly as Indira, the only mother she’d ever known, came and sat at the edge of the pool.

  “You do not bathe with us in the mornings any longer, little one. Why is that?”

  Shani deliberately dove beneath the surface of the water, but Indira, not to be put off so easily, was sitting just as she had been when Shani surfaced. Her dark eyes were serious, yet loving; questioning, yet patient.

  “I am restless,” Shani admitted. “Not 30 minutes ago I was talking with Poppy. Now I’m swimming alone and pouting about the shape of my body. Nothing satisfies me anymore. It is as Poppy has always said; I’m the most spoiled child in the palace.”

  “What is wrong with the shape of your body?”

  “It is shapeless; that is what is wrong.”

  “You are young.”

  “Kadeem is younger and already with child,” Shani pointed out logically. She was referring to another of Ahmad’s daughters, one who had come into womanhood two years ago and was already married and expecting.

  “I am 14,” Shani pointed out, as though Indira might have forgotten.

  What Shani didn’t know was that Indira could not get her age from her mind. Shani’s height and verbal skills had fooled them 13 years ago, but it was now quite evident that their Shani was not 14.