AllFreeNovel
Share Us
4
The next week passed quickly, with Isabella doing whatever she could to avoid Aaron Bailey. It seemed wrong that he should be staying with them, but Mama had explained that Aaron always stayed with them when he was in town on business. This year he would be with them until Christmas Eve, and then he would head back to San Marcial. Isabella could hardly wait.
On Christmas Eve, Isabella attended the town party along with her parents. Thankfully, Aaron was nowhere in sight. She hoped that meant he had already headed back to San Marcial. She didn’t really dislike him—it was just that he was an unpleasant reminder of her fight with Papi. She could admit to herself that she had been quite selfish and ill-tempered at eighteen. She had only cared about getting to California. She wanted never to return to New Mexico and didn’t care what Papi wanted. Aaron had witnessed all of that, and she knew he remembered it. But she had changed and was a better person now. Even if she still wished to remain in California rather than conform to her father’s desires. They all knew how she felt—especially Aaron—and every time she looked him in the eyes, she felt him pass judgment on her. It justwasn’t right, and she didn’t want to have to deal with him on this special day.
The Catholic church was the only one big enough for everyone to gather in, so folks set aside their own denominational choices and viewpoints and came to celebrate the birth of Christ as one body.
Isabella found herself very much enjoying the music. The church organist was quite gifted, as were the boys who made up the local choir. Twelve boys who appeared to range in age from ten to fourteen sang in perfect harmony. At one point, an angelic-faced boy stepped forward and sang a solo while accompanied by a lone guitar. “Silent Night” had never sounded so sweet. It was every bit as nice as she’d heard in much grander cathedrals, and for a short time, Isabella forgot about being stuck in Silver Veil.
Pastor Tom Cameron from the Bible Church read a mix of verses from the New and Old Testament. Isabella had heard most of them before, even though she had never paid much attention to any of them. The Bible was boring to her. It lacked any real excitement or interest for her daily life. As far as she was concerned, it was a book for scholars and religious leaders, but not for the common man.
Reverend Shoal finally took his place and began to speak about Mary and Joseph facing the huge responsibility of raising the Son of God. He spoke about how difficult it must have been for each of them to face this task God had put upon their shoulders. So difficult that an angel had to be sent to encourage them. Yet each was willing. He spoke about how each person in the congregation should be willing to take on the tasks God entrusted to them—that it was a trust and must be seen as one. He asked the congregation, “What task has God entrusted to you?”
Isabella pondered the question. She’d always consideredGod disinterested in her life. Had He entrusted something to her, something that she had missed?
It seemed to go against everything she believed about God. Why would He need her help with anything? He was God. He could snap His fingers and make the world as He wanted it to be. He spoke and created the entire universe. Why would He need to entrust anything to a twenty-five-year-old woman in New Mexico?
Isabella saw that her parents were in complete agreement with the reverend, as they nodded from time to time. She knew they believed that God was an important part of their daily lives and that He cared intimately for each of His children. Isabella had a difficult time seeing or believing that. To her, God was as powerful and indifferent as her own father. He might care, as she was sure Papi did, that His children obey Him and not question His authority, but she couldn’t see the love. Not since she was a little girl had she seen God’s love as real.
Perhaps she didn’t see her father’s love either. He seemed only to think about things that were unimportant to Isabella. He had his own desires and plans, and none of them seemed to take Isabella and her desires into consideration. How could she see Papi or God as someone who wanted only the best for her when neither one even seemed to know what she wanted?
She remembered the terrible fight they’d had when she announced on her twenty-first birthday that she intended to go live with her aunt and never return to New Mexico. She told her parents that she had always hated that they’d taken her from the only place she felt was home. They suggested that home was made up of the people who loved each other as family, but Isabella had refused that idea. She had flatly countered that she loved them but hated Silver Veil and it would never be home to her.
The memory gave her a sense of regret that left her frowning. Why should that thought leave her feeling bad? After all, in the long run, she had won, and Papi had sent her away with his blessing.
“If you don’t know what God is calling you to do,” Reverend Shoal continued, “ask Him. He has a task for each of us, and He will equip you with the necessary wisdom to complete it. But you have to know what that task is. The first chapter of James tells us that if any of us lack wisdom, we may ask God for it, and He will give it. I encourage you to accept His gift of wisdom as well as the task He has appointed to you.”
After the conclusion of the services, the congregation sang more Christmas songs, and brown paper sacks of candy and nuts were distributed to the children. How happy they seemed—so content with their little prize. Isabella wondered if she’d ever felt that carefree and content.
She remembered when she’d been gifted her horse, Lucy. It was such a glorious present, one that Isabella had desired but hadn’t expected. How happy she had been. She remembered thinking there was no better gift in the world. That was the way these children responded to a much less costly prize. A thought pricked her heart: Could she have ever been as happy with so little?
Outside, people gathered around Isabella and her parents. The weather was mild but chilly, and the higher elevations had received a bit of snow. It seemed to add extra joy to the spirit of the celebration. Her father had closed the mine and given everyone the day off with pay, and it seemed other businesses had followed suit. What a strange place. Isabella couldn’t imagine that happening back in California. The large cities couldn’t function if everyone suddenly stopped working. But here, life was slower, less worrisome.
It was easy to see that the townsfolk were grateful to Isabella’s parents. Not only was a town gift presented in their honor—two handmade park benches that would be placed on the plaza square as a memorial to their founding family—but small items were given by most everyone. The Garcias were greatly appreciated and loved, that much was clear.
Isabella watched as her parents dealt with their adoring fans. Most were indebted to her parents, and she had heard Mama say that as a Christmas gift, Papi had taken a certain percentage off what was owed to him by each person. No doubt that totaled in the hundreds, perhaps even thousands of dollars. To Isabella it seemed reckless, but at the same time, she could see the sincere gratitude felt by each person who benefitted. Her parents were absolutely loved, and why not? They had been generous to a fault with these people.
“You look troubled,” Aaron Bailey said, coming to stand beside Isabella.
She glanced his way. “I’m not in the least troubled, Mr. Bailey.”
“Then perhaps your frown was caused by something else?”
She gave him a smile. “Probably the fact that you are still in town.”
He laughed out loud, causing several people to turn. He leaned toward her. “That will soon be remedied. I’m heading to San Marcial in a little while to check in with my office.”
“Wonderful. Then I shall get to have my parents to myself. That is indeed a lovely Christmas gift.”
“Pity you don’t want them more often.”
Her frown returned. “Safe travels, Mr. Bailey.” She turned to go, then stopped. “And merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, Miss Garcia. I hope you truly appreciate what you have before it’s too late.”
She snapped around to ask what he meant by that, but Aaron was already several steps away and engulfed by a collection of children who appeared to adore him. She watched as they showed Aaron what was in their sacks. He laughed with them and rubbed their heads. Sometimes he offered a hug. He definitely seemed to be a very affectionate man.
“So why does he treat me so poorly?”
