A Log Cabin Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page B

crossbar that ran the length of the cabin. “If I hang it from that rafter both your pa and my son will be sure to see it.”
    Brandon nodded and handed his paper to Donovan, who arranged a pew beneath the rafter to stand on. He then tacked the drawing in place. A draft caused the paper to move back and forth, making the bear look even more menacing.
    “There you go,” Donovan said, stepping off the pew and sounding more cheerful than he had all day.
    Brandon flung his arms around Donovan’s waist. Donovan looked startled at first, and then ever so slowly he lifted his hand, holding it in midair for a moment before lowering it to the boy’s head. Brandon looked up at him, and Donovan wrapped him in both arms, and they clung to each other as only two people who shared a similar loss knew how to do.
    Maddie looked away but only to hide her tears.
    Later, she knelt on the floor next to Sophie. Ever the perfectionist, Sophie took meticulous care with her drawing, making every line perfectly straight with the use of a ruler. In contrast Jimmy had spent almost no time on his drawing, choosing instead to fold his paper and shoot it to the rafters, where the wind tossed it about.
    “How do you always know what Brandon is thinking?” Maddie asked. “About his pa?”
    Sophie carefully outlined her picture of a Christmas tree. “It’s easy. I can tell by his face.”
    “Really?” Obviously, there was more to Sophie than met the eye.
    “Yeah. Just like I can tell Jimmy likes me.”
    “If that’s true, why don’t you two get along?” Maddie asked
    “You’re not supposed to let the other person know you like him,” Sophie whispered. “At least not at first. That’s the rule. Just like the sheriff pretends not to like you.”
    Maddie’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly recovered. Obviously, Sophie wasn’t as perceptive as she seemed, except for perhaps where Brandon was concerned. She leaned closer to Sophie, her voice low. “Adults have different rules. When we like someone, we’re not afraid to let the other person know.”
    Just then Maddie heard something that made her look up. Was that a chuckle she’d heard? Coming from the sheriff? It was hard to tell from where she sat. Donovan stood reading a pupil essay on the wall, his back to her. She couldn’t resist joining him to see which paper caught his attention
    “I like this one,” he said, pointing to a square of cardboard. It was an essay about Joan of Arc written by seven-year-old Benjamin Bond. “I didn’t know that Joan was Noah’s wife,” Donovan said. He then pointed to another essay, and fine lines crinkled around his eyes.
    “Jesus couldn’t be born until they found a manager,” he read, his voice edged with humor.
    Maddie felt a warm glow inside. “I do believe everyone could use a manager—don’t you agree?” she asked.
    He grinned at her before moving to the next essay.
    My, my, what a handsome man he was when he smiled. Why had she not noticed that before? She’d always thought of him as a grim-faced man. Is that what grief had done to him?
    “What’s so funny?” Sophie asked.
    Maddie turned and faced the classroom. “We’re happy because it’s almost Christmas Eve. Like I told you, that’s when miracles happen.”
    If ever she needed a miracle, it was now. They were out of food, and judging by the still-roaring wind, the storm wouldn’t let up anytime soon. Her pupils’ parents must be half out of their minds.
    Donovan held her gaze, her worries mirrored on his face. But she saw something else there, too. Something she couldn’t decipher or name. What a complex man: one moment lighthearted, the next so serious.
    Just like the sheriff pretends not to like you
.
    Nothing could be further from the truth, of course. Sophie was an impressionable child given to flights of fancy. She’d simply misinterpreted something she saw or heard. Still, there had been moments …
    Embarrassed to be caught staring, Maddie quickly lowered