It Must Be Christmas: Three Holiday Stories

“Manger, check.” She wrestled the wooden structure into position by inches until it was in the middle of the nativity. “Straw, check.” She took off her gloves for a minute and padded the bottom of the manger with a small brick of synthetic straw, pulling the pieces apart and fluffing them up. As soon as it was done, she hurried to put her gloves back on. “Now for Baby Jesus.” Charlie looked around at the boxes of Christmas decorations that surrounded her. “Aha! Baby Jesus, check!” She retrieved a doll from a box, already wrapped and safety-pinned into swaddling clothes, and stared down at the straw padding the bottom of the crude manger. “This doesn’t feel right,” she murmured to the doll. She looked in the box for a blanket or fabric of some sort. “I can’t just put you down on the prickly straw. Surely the new Messiah deserves something softer to lie on.”


After a few minutes of digging through the boxes for something that might suit, Charlie sighed. “Well, Baby Jesus, we’ll just have to wait to put you in your manger until I can think of something to use to cover the straw. Until then, I need to get these lights untangled.”

She sat down on the cold, wooden platform the church had set up to house the nativity scene. It was a lonely, solitary task and she found herself carrying on a one-way conversation with the doll just to break the silence. “I have skills, Baby Jesus. Specific skills. Skills that I should be using right now with my patients. Not sitting in the cold unraveling tangled lights.” She sighed in frustration.

God, she was talking to a doll. A doll who was, at this moment, staring at her with unseeing, unblinking eyes. It was a little bit creepy, so she turned her attention back to the task at hand, working away at a stubborn knot, muttering to herself. Once again the gloves came off; there was no way she could straighten the knotted wires with the material in the way. She blew on her fingers and started again.

“You know,” she continued, “when I agreed to help out, I’d thought it would be a good chance to be a part of the community. Outside of work, I mean. And … here I am alone. As usual.”

Charlie cursed under her breath as the knot let go only to reveal another. A burst of laughter drew her attention away for a moment, and she watched as a couple strolled along the sidewalk holding hands.

“Wanna hear something stupid, Baby Jesus? The closest thing to a romantic relationship I have right now is an infatuation with the man who works on the docks. You know?” She paused, studying the glassy eyes of the doll next to her. “Of course you don’t know. You’re a doll. And the Savior of all mankind, right? You have bigger fish to fry than my nonexistent love life.” She laughed to herself. “I’m pathetic. But let me tell you, that man is hot. Tall, dark, and rugged.” In her mind she could picture the look of him, long legs and broad shoulders, his strength evident even beneath work pants and the navy jacket he typically wore. She sighed. “I don’t even know his name. How dumb is that?”

“Um, excuse me, but who are you talking to?”

She jumped at the sound of a deep voice behind her, a muted squeak bursting from her mouth, then spun around to find a giant of a man standing there, feet planted, arms crossed, and an amused expression on his face. Not just any man. The man.

Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Baby Jesus?” she suggested weakly. Busted talking to a doll. She felt about three years old.

He chuckled. “Really?” He nodded at the bundle in her arms. “What were you going to do? Brain me with him?”

What? It took a few seconds before she realized that she’d grabbed the doll like a weapon and was currently holding it like she was a quarterback ready to go long. Charlie looked down at the doll’s face and then tucked it more securely in her arms. “You startled me, that’s all,” she replied, emitting a breathy laugh. Holy crap. From afar he’d looked big, but her dream guy was over six feet for sure, probably closer to six four, big feet in big boots, faded jeans, and one of those plaid quilted jackets she’d seen a lot of the men around here wear when the weather was cold but not downright frigid. His arms were crossed, and the stance accentuated the muscles in his arms and shoulders. His hair was thick and dark, highlighting a face that sported a stunning set of brown eyes with long lashes, a strong jaw, and good cheekbones.

“I’m Charlene,” she offered, only stammering a little, holding the doll in one arm and extending her other hand. “Charlie, actually.”

“Dave,” he replied, stepping forward to shake her hand. The contact sent a ripple of pleasure down her arm. “Do you always talk to dolls?” He grinned openly now, a slight dimple popping in one cheek.

“Only when I’m trying not to freeze to death.” She smiled back, her pulse hammering. Don’t say something dumb, she warned herself. Like blurting out that she’d watched him working each day from the wide windows at Breezes Café. The last thing she needed was to seem all … stalkerish.

“You’re one of the doctors in town, aren’t you?” he asked, dropping her hand. “I’ve seen you around.”

He had? And if he knew she was the doctor, he had to have asked about her, right? As she wrapped her mind around that astounding fact, she tried to remain cool. “That’s me.”

“I’m working down at the boatyard for the time being.”

“I know.”

Damn it. Why couldn’t she bite her tongue?

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