Free Christmas in the Air by Irene Brand Page A

visited Heritage Farm. She’d never told her family about her infatuation with Quinn, but it was hard to fool her family. Her mother had sensed something had happened at the camp, but had never asked. If they saw Quinn and her together, they would immediately know they were dating.
    â€œWhen you introduced yourself last night,” she said, and her fingers gripped the crochet hook tightly, “yousaid you weren’t married yet . Does that mean you’re intending to get married soon?”
    She sure didn’t want Quinn to bring his wife to Heritage Farm.
    Quinn squirmed on the hard seat, conscious of the nail scratch he’d gotten in the attic.
    â€œNo, I’m not. I’ve been dating a neighbor I grew up with, but we’re not serious. Mostly, we’re just friends.”
    She didn’t answer, seemingly concentrating on her crocheting, but her mind was whirling.
    â€œWhat about you?” he asked. “I’ve noticed a closeness between you and Sean.”
    She stared at him, complete surprise on her face. “Sean! We’re friends—nothing more. He has too much on his plate keeping in shape for basketball and maintaining good grades to be interested in girls. Not that a lot of women wouldn’t welcome his attention.”
    â€œIncluding you,” Quinn persisted.
    Livia crocheted several more stitches, her mind spinning with bewilderment. Could he possibly be jealous of Sean? The thought was heartening.
    She shook her head, repeating, “Sean and I are friends. I haven’t dated since I was in high school.”
    â€œWhy?”
    She shrugged one shoulder and managed to say casually, “I haven’t met anyone I wanted to date.”
    He laughed slightly. “That a good reason, I suppose.”
    He stood cautiously, and she believed he was hurt more than he’d admit. “I won’t bother you anymore so you can finish your work.”
    She let him go without further comment.
    Roxanne had humorously appointed herself as the chef, and she asked Allen to bring a case of canned vegetable soup from his truck.
    â€œEvery time I see how much eight people can eat,” she said to Livia, “I’m thankful for that truckload of food. Those few snacks we had in the car wouldn’t have lasted long.”
    Les contributed a large pan that he was taking as a gift to his daughter, and they opened ten cans of the soup and dumped it into the pan. It took more than an hour before the soup was edible, and then it was only lukewarm.
    The soup, along with cheese, bread, crackers, apples and cookies, sated their hunger temporarily. Livia had never been a big eater, but she knew she would be hungry before morning. They had divided the soup into eight equal shares, and she figured it did little to appease the appetites of Quinn and Allen, both big men, who would obviously require more food than the others.
    The little church, with the smell of smoke and food aromas, seemed oppressive for a moment to Livia, and she wanted to be alone. She opened the door and stepped out on the porch. A quarter-moon shed a soft silvery radiance over the little valley where they were marooned.
    Although the exact date of Jesus’ birth was unknown, it was not inconceivable to believe that He was born on such a night as this. It took only a few minutesfor the intense cold to seep through her clothes, and Livia hurried back inside. Quinn slanted a questioning, concerned glance toward her. His gray eyes held hers until she nodded that she was all right.
    In preparation for the worship service, Marie and Livia lit the candles in the windows and set another candle on the piano to give Roxanne enough light to find the right keys. The men pulled the piano close to the stove.
    â€œWe have our quintet music in the van,” Roxanne said, “but it’s a difficult arrangement, and I can’t see well enough to read the notes. All of us will sing traditional carols, which I