Read The Doctor's Christmas for Free Online Page B

had dropped on their walk to the church. The trouble in Maggie’s family must have been fairly serious for her to be farmed out to a neighbor at that age.
    He studied Maggie’s face as she announced the parts for the pageant. Did that uncertainty in her childhood account for her fierce protectiveness toward these people? Maybe so. He knew as well as anyone the influence a childhood trauma could have on the rest of a person’s life.
    â€œLet’s finish up with a carol before we go downstairs for dessert.” Maggie glanced toward Pastor Jim, who obediently seated himself behind the piano.
    â€œWhat will it be?” he asked, playing a chord or two.
    â€œâ€˜Away in a Manger,’” several children said at once.
    â€œYou’ve got it.” He began to play.
    Grant tried to open his mouth, to sing like everyone else.
    Away in a manger, no crib for his bed.
    But something had a stranglehold on his throat, and he seemed to see his brother’s face, his eyes shining in the light of a thousand candles.
    He’d thought he could cope with this, but the old anger and bitterness welled up in him so strongly that it was a wonder it wasn’t written all over him.
    Maggie had her arms around a couple of the children as they sang. She glanced at him, and apparently his expression caused her to stumble over a phrase.
    Maybe his feelings were written on his face. All he could think was that the moment the song was over, he was out of there.
    Â 
    The expression on Grant’s face when the children began to sing the old carol grabbed at Maggie’s heart and wouldn’t let go. Dr. Grant Hardesty, the man she’d thought had everything, looked suddenly bereft.
    She couldn’t have seen what she thought she’d seen. That glimpse into his soul shook her, rattling all her neat preconceptions about who and what he was.
    The last notes of the carol still lingered on the air as people started to make their way to the church basement and the homemade pies. Grant looked as if he intended to head straight back the aisle and out the door.
    Aunt Elly didn’t give him the opportunity. She grabbed his arm as soon as they stood, steering him toward the stairs at the rear of the sanctuary.
    Maggie followed, shepherding the flock of children along the aisle. She was close enough to hear Aunt Elly as they reached the back of the church.
    â€œCome along now.” She hustled him toward the stairs. “You don’t want to get last choice of the pie, do you?”
    Grant was out of Maggie’s sight for a few minutes as they started down. By the time she and her charges had reached the church basement, he had resumed his cool, well-bred expression. That brief moment when she’d glimpsed an inner pain might have been her imagination, but she couldn’t quite make herself believe that.
    The children scattered, some racing for the table, others searching for their parents. She hesitated. Should she go up to Grant and introduce him around? She hadn’t brought him. That was clearly Aunt Elly’s idea.
    â€œCome on, Doc.” Isaiah Martin, looking better dressed than he had been for his clinic visit, waved toward Grant. “Get up here and pick out a slab of pie.”
    Friendly hands shoved him toward the table on a wave of agreement. Feeding him was their way of welcoming him. Would he recognize that?
    â€œHere you go, Doc.” Evie Moore slid a piece of cherry pie onto a flowered plate. “That’s my cherry pie, and you won’t find better anywhere, if I do sayso myself. Those cherries come right off my tree. Now, what else will you have?”
    â€œThat’s plenty,” he began. Then he stopped, apparently realizing from the offended expressions on the other women that he’d made a strategic mistake.
    He wasn’t her responsibility. Still, maybe she’d better rescue him. Maggie slipped closer.
    â€œYou’d better try all of