Page 3 of The Christmas Ring
The piece of jewelry was proof.
Yes, one day he would marry that girl, whoever she might be, and they would raise a family and this ruby-red gem would always serve to remind him that God had spared Bill Bailey on D-Day for a reason. He would keep the ring in his family for generations to come. He could see it all playing out before him.
Bill smiled. He even knew what he would call it.
The Christmas ring.
Chapter 2
The four-day Christmas trip to Breckenridge, Colorado, turned out to be exactly what Vanessa Mayfield and her daughter, Sadie, needed. They were staying at The Village in a condo with views Alan would have loved. There was something sad about that, almost as if it would’ve been easier if the place had no view at all.
But sadness aside, Vanessa was enjoying this trip with Sadie. The two of them had decided it was okay to take this vacation even though Alan had only been gone four months and they were both still grieving. Besides, they would carry Alan with them always. Wherever they went. Forever.
Sunshine streamed through Vanessa’s bedroom window that winter morning. Vanessa breathed deep, stepped out of bed, and stretched her legs. Two days of skiing had taken their toll, but she didn’t mind. Sore muscles meant she and Sadie had enjoyed every minute on the slopes. Skiing was something the Mayfield family had done every December since Sadie was a little girl. As long as Alan wasn’t deployed.
This was their first time here without him.
Vanessa had asked God to give him a front-row seat from heaven.
She walked to the window and pulled open the sheers. The sight took her breath. If paradise had a quaint small town in the snowy mountains, it would have to be Breckenridge. The town lay spread out before her, the historic district and antique shops, and beyond that, the perfect ski runs.
Rays of sunlight hit the diamonds on her hands and cast sparkly lights across the windowsill. Vanessa glanced down. She still wore her wedding ring, probably always would. And, of course, the Christmas ring.
Vanessa lifted her hand and studied the antique.
The understated red-ruby center and the circle of pretty diamonds around it. All of that set in a dark gold band. No telling how old the relic was. Vanessa only knew that her great-grandfather had found it on D-Day after he and a handful of other paratroopers from the 101st Airborne Division landed in a French field outside of the village of Sainte-Mère-Église.
Somehow, he had found the ring buried in the ground beneath a bush, where he and his buddies hid until they were rescued that day, eight miles north of Utah Beach.
Vanessa ran her finger over the smooth red stone. The stones weren’t real. Vanessa’s mother had taken it to the local Columbus jeweler decades ago to make sure. “Beautiful,” the man had said. “Costume jewelry was more exquisite back in the mid-1900s. Especially in Europe.”
Everyone had suspected as much, not that it mattered. The value of the ring would never come from an appraisal.The ring had been in the family since D-Day, passed on from her great-grandfather to her great-grandmother. And then to her grandmother and after that to her mother, who had given it to Vanessa on her college graduation.
Sadie was fourteen now. In four short years she’d be off to college, and four years after that, the Christmas ring would be hers.
“Mom, I made eggs!” Sadie’s singsong voice came from the kitchen.
Vanessa slipped into jeans and a turtleneck and followed the sound.
Sadie was a mirror image of her father: fair with his blonde hair and blue eyes. Nothing like Vanessa, except for her smile. As soon as Sadie smiled, everyone said she and Vanessa were practically twins.
Over breakfast, Sadie was quiet.
“Thanks for the eggs.” Vanessa recognized her daughter’s sad expression.
“You’re welcome.” Sadie smiled, but her eyes welled up.
Until now their days together on this trip had been marked with silliness and full-on laughter. Like the time Vanessa slid backward—skis in the air—down the end of the run their first day here.
This moment was very different. Vanessa reached for Sadie’s hand. “You okay?”
“Don’t you wonder”—Sadie put her fork down and lifted her eyes to Vanessa—“if God could’ve protected Daddy, how come He didn’t?” She hesitated. “He could’ve kept him safe, right?”
Give her time,Vanessa told herself.Don’t rush this.She ranher fingers over Sadie’s hand. “Yes. I do think so. I think He could’ve kept Daddy alive.”
Sadie’s shrug made her look like a little girl. “Then... why?”
This was the hardest part about being a military family. Or the family of a police officer or firefighter. By merely doing their jobs, they put their lives on the line every day. Any goodbyes could be their last. Vanessa studied her daughter. Not every question needed an answer.
