This would be the best Christmas yet.
Chapter Eighteen
JONATHAN PAUSED BEFOREentering the church on Christmas morning. He’d been reluctant to leave Catherine behind. She looked healthy and promised him she felt well. She was, however, impatient for Christmas dinner and told him the faster he returned the faster she’d be able to rejoin the festivities. And so she’d sent him off to church with Mrs. Bell and their guests.
He glanced back down the road toward the boarding house. Something sat oddly in his mind, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Everything was well here, at the church, with townsfolk wishing each other a Merry Christmas. And he’d left the boarding house all in order with the scent of the Christmas turkey filling the rooms.
And yet the feeling didn’t leave, even as the service started and Pastor Simpson preached on the meaning of the day. Jonathan glanced at the other members of the congregation, trying to discern whether they felt there was something wrong. But everyone else looked engaged in the sermon, aside from one fellow dozed in the back.
No, it was just him. Had he left something undone? Perhaps he hadn’t locked the doors. Or maybe he’d forgotten to retrieve one of the gifts he’d purchased from his room to set beneath the tree.
But none of those felt like the answer to his worry. He rubbed a hand over his chin. Perhaps it wasn’t any one thing in particular. Maybe it was a feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
But it was Christmas. How could anything be amiss? Most of the town was here, at the church.
Mostof the town. Not all.
Jonathan shoved his hands into his pockets and withdrew them again. Mrs. Bell gave him a questioning look. He waited a second, and then made up his mind. Leaning over to Mrs. Bell, he whispered, “I’ll return in a moment.”
She raised her eyebrows, clearly curious, but he didn’t wait to give an explanation. Pardoning himself as he slid past other members of the congregation, he exited the church to multiple curious stares. He didn’t care; he only wanted to satisfy that unrelenting feeling that something was amiss.
Outside, he strode through the sunny, cold Christmas Day toward the boarding house. Everything along the road was shuttered, its occupants in the church. A gust of wind blew and Jonathan ducked his head against it as he made his way toward the boarding house.
Everything would be fine, he told himself. He’d laugh about this feeling later.
