Lori Copeland - The Christmas Lamp

Also by Lori Copeland

Morning Shade

Mystery Series

A Case of Bad Taste

A Case of Crooked Letters

A Case of Nosy Neighbors

Child of Grace

Christmas Vows

Brides of the West Series

Faith

June

Hope

Glory

Ruth

Patience

Roses Will Bloom Again

Men of the Saddle Series

The Peacemaker

The Drifter

The Maverick

The Plainsman

Belles of Timber Creek Series

Twice Loved

Three Times Blessed

One True Love

Stand-Alone Titles

Monday Morning Faith

Simple Gifts

Now and Always

Christmas Novellas

Unwrapping Christmas

The Christmas Lamp

ZONDERVAN

The Christmas Lamp
Copyright 2009 by Copeland, Inc.

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Mobi Edition October 2009 ISBN: 978-0-310-56068-5

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Copeland, Lori.

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Interior design by Christine Orejuela-Winkelman

Table of Contents

Roni walked to the break room refrigerator and took out a piece of cheese and a handful of grapes. Bumping the door closed with her hip, she heard it; the telltale sound of a crash, and then lights and ornaments hitting the pavement.

Judy sprang from her chair. Good grief! This is a record even for Nativity.

Moving to the window, the women peered out. Roni heaved a sigh of disbelief when she spotted a silver Acura SUV buried in spruce. Tinsel dangled from the headlights.

A man peered out the drivers side window. Moments later the tall, well-dressed man wearing corduroy slacks and a sports shirt unwound his frame from the drivers seat and got out of the vehicle.

Closing her eyes, Roni drew a deep breath and announced. The new consultant is here.

The two women reached the door simultaneously.

Bounding toward the accident, Roni quickly assessed the situation. The city crew seemed untouched. One or two looked slightly dazed, but the consultants expression was more what hit me than angry. Is everybody okay? Roni called as she approached the chaotic scene.

Im fine, the newcomer said. He glanced at the workers. Anyone hurt?

The men shook their heads, eyes scanning the mess. Roni extended a hand. You must be the new consultant.

He took the outstretched hand. Jake Brisco.

Roni Elliot. I manage the City Administration Office. Her gaze assessed the dark-haired consultant, and then moved to the third finger of his right hand. Empty.

Her eyes snapped back. I am so sorry. Someone should have warned you about the tree.

Jake brushed spruce needles off his slacks. Does it always sit in the middle of the intersection?

Always, Roni assured with a smile.

And it always got hit. Nativity wouldnt be itself without their holiday decorations. And the tree was always first to go up, and the first to come down. Literally. It was hit at least twice every Christmas, and sometimes more.

Well. Jake studied his vehicle, hands on his trim hips. I guess theres no real harm done.

Come inside while they clean the mess off, Roni invited. We have fresh coffee.

No thanks. He set to work picking tinsel out of the bumper. Im going to check into my hotel room. Ill be in first thing tomorrow morning.

Roni glanced at Judy, who was busy assessing the new boss. She glanced at Roni and gave her a thumbs-up.

Was she kidding? The man couldnt drive! Roni turned back to Brisco, who was now crouched on his hands and knees parting the spruce. Youre Mary Parsons grandson?

That would be me. He tossed a handful of boughs aside, grumbling under his breath.

We heard you were coming. For the past few weeks that had been the town buzz. The new consultant is coming. Mary Parsons hotshot grandson. Everything is going to be different. The town will be saved. She assessed the good-looking Superman. Right. He couldnt miss a twelve-foot spruce sitting in the middle of the intersection.

This man was going to save Nativity from going under?

That evening, Roni locked the office, relieved to have the hectic day behind her. Jake Brisco wasnt exactly friendly, but then having a spruce hit your fancy car, as Mom used to say, would sour a bodys disposition.

The new consultant had appeared to have a sense of humor. Once they separated his car from the tree, he calmly picked spruce needles out of his grill and noted that his decorating was done for the year. Roni was grateful he wasnt coming into work until morning. Thered be a little breathing space between the incident and getting down to business.

Merry Christmas!

Roni turned to see Dusty Bitterman, who owned the insurance office two doors away, striding toward her. The affable grandfatherly figure flipped her a piece of peppermint candy.

She caught it with both hands. Thanks, Dusty. Youre my first holiday greeting of the season.

Its the best time of the year. You doing okay this fine day?

Never better.

Im on my way to see Mary. I understand her grandson blew through town earlier.

Blew through was correct. Mary Parson lived on the outskirts of Nativity, a woman who rarely joined community activities anymore even though shed been a founding area resident. Folks said that until she had her first heart attack shed been involved with everything, but once her husband passed away shed turned into a recluse. Everyone knew of Mary but most knew little about her. Dusty visited her weekly to see if she needed anything, but even he admitted that she rarely did, and that she preferred her solitude.