Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy - Janice Lynn Page 0,10

toward his friend, which Andrew deflected, sending it flying off in a different direction.

Cole glanced around the church community room floor, meaning to pick up the paper but he didn’t see where it landed. Just as he was about to get up to search for it, a woman tapped on a microphone.

The well-put-together seventyish woman from Sophie’s table had gone to the front podium, cleared her throat, and almost instantly silenced everyone. Even cyan-blue granny had quieted down.

Cole was impressed. He’d seen less effective drill sergeants.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re here today to officially kick off the planning for this year’s Christmas toy drive. For any of those who may not know me”—she sounded as if she thought that an impossibility, the words a formality she needed to say all the same—“I’m Maybelle Kirby. I’ve headed up the toy drive since I co-founded it over twenty years ago.”

Again, impressive. Obviously, she was a pillar of the community.

Cole liked that about Pine Hill. There were people who’d lived there their entire lives, who’d devoted themselves to making it a better place. It still astonished him that this apple-pie-and-baseball-loving life existed in the world. No wonder his uncle had never moved away from his small farm just outside the town.

“Donations were down last year, probably due in part to the loss of our dear co-chair, Jean Hamilton. We miss her so much.” The woman’s gaze slid over to the brunette at the table before she gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. Cole took that to mean that the young woman had been a relative of the departed. “We barely had enough toys to meet our requests.”

Maybelle’s lips thinned, and she lifted her chin with a determination Cole admired, one that said she refused for any child in need to not receive a toy on her watch. No doubt they never would while she was in charge.

“The committee and I have been working to ensure this year’s drive is a smashing success,” she continued, glancing toward her table that must be the committee. Made sense, given that Chief was seated there.

No surprise Sophie was there, either. Ben had taken great pleasure in telling him about goody-two-shoes Sophie Davis and her volunteering at the church. No doubt she had more than a few gold stars in her crown.

“We appreciate each of you for being a part of this wonderful work.” Maybelle smiled at Chief. “We’re excited to announce that we’ve paired up with the fire department this year and will be using the firehall as an additional drop-off point for toys. Sophie, you and Sarah pass out the information sheets.”

Sophie and the brunette stood and began handing papers to each volunteer. Cole had hoped the brunette would make her way to their table, but it was Sophie who stopped there, pausing mid-sentence when her gaze met his.

“So glad—um, Cole, uh, yeah, hi.” She sounded as breathless as someone he’d just pulled from a burning building.

Seeing him flustered her. Because she’d read his journal, or because he’d been a jerk to her?

He hadn’t wanted to see her again. Still didn’t want to.

Only…

Knowing any show of friendliness would be exaggerated a hundredfold by his two friends, Cole barely acknowledged her as he took a flyer. As an added bonus, it meant he didn’t have to see the pity or disgust that he knew had to be reflected in her eyes.

How humiliating that she knew so many things about him—things he’d never wanted to share with anyone. Best thing he could do was let her go on thinking him a jerk. It would make her less likely to want to cross paths with him again.

He’d seen her, what, a handful of times since moving to Pine Hill? If each of them tried to avoid the other, maybe their paths would cross only rarely.

“Anyone not have a paper?” Maybelle asked when Sophie and the brunette returned to the front. When no one responded, she continued. “As I mentioned, we’re doing things differently this year. We’re breaking into three committees responsible for covering different needs.”

Breaking into groups? Cole had thought he and the guys would just pick up toys around town, put out a few collection boxes, wrap a few presents, and maybe deliver them to some kids.

“If you look at the top of the page, you’ll notice a number written on the stocking in the upper right-hand corner. That’s your committee number. Those with a number one are in my group, naturally. We’ll be handling media for the drive