A Christmas Star Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  The Cape Light Titles

  CAPE LIGHT

  HOME SONG

  A GATHERING PLACE

  A NEW LEAF

  A CHRISTMAS PROMISE

  THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL

  A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER

  A CHRISTMAS VISITOR

  THE CHRISTMAS COTTAGE

  A CHRISTMAS STAR

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

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  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London, WC2R, 0RL England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2008 by The Thomas Kinkade Company and Parachute Publishing, L.L.C.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  BERKLEY® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Kinkade, Thomas, 1958-

  A Christmas star: a Cape Light novel / Thomas Kinkade & Katherine Spencer.

  p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-0-425-22358-1

  1. Cape Light (Imaginary place)—Fiction. 2. New England—Fiction. 3. Dwellings—Fires

  and fire prevention—Fiction. 4. Christmas stories. 5. Domestic fiction. I. Spencer, Katherine.

  II. Title.

  PS3561.I534C475 2008

  813’.54—dc22 2008019834

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To Ellen Steiber

  With endless thanks for your magical, editorial touch and for your

  cherished friendship

  —A.C.

  DEAR FRIENDS

  THIS CHRISTMAS AS WE GATHER AROUND THE HOLIDAY DINNER table, I gaze at my loved ones, their faces aglow in the golden light of the candles, and feel truly blessed for my family and my faith.

  Faith unites families, and families inspire faith. It’s difficult to imagine one without the other. How marvelous Christmas is then—a time that we honor both as we come together and celebrate so joyously!

  This year our friends in Cape Light will also come to realize how great a role faith plays in one’s family, though the lessons for them won’t be easy. Our old friends Sam and Jessica Morgan will face a heartbreaking loss when their beloved house goes up in flames. Their trust in each other—and in God—will be tested.

  We will also meet some new friends like Jack Sawyer and Julie Newton, who are not looking forward to the holidays. But perhaps a simple wish on a Christmas star can bring them together. Perhaps love can heal battered hearts and lift up weary spirits.

  So follow me to the village of Cape Light, where the townspeople invite us into their homes year after year to enjoy the comfort and warmth of their friendship, their families, and their faith.

  Merry Christmas!

  Thomas Kinkade

  CHAPTER ONE

  EVERY YEAR JESSICA AND SAM MORGAN HAD THE SAME DEBATE. Jessica liked to put up their Christmas tree the weekend after Thanksgiving. Sam liked to wait.

  Some years, when she had been busy with her job at the bank and taking care of their two boys, or if they’d had their family over on Thanksgiving Day, Jessica was content to put the task off. At least for a week or two. But this year Sam’s sister Molly and her husband, Matt, had hosted Thanksgiving, and Jessica wasn’t working at the bank in town anymore. When the weekend arrived, she had nothing to think about but getting a jump start on the holidays. Starting with the tree.

  This year, Jessica had a plan.

  On Sunday afternoon, while Sam predictably sat in front of the TV, mesmerized by a football game, Jessica bustled around the kitchen and quickly put on a pot roast—one of her husband’s favorite dinners. She set it simmering on a low flame, then headed for the attic to begin the slow but steady process of moving the many boxes of decorations down to the living room.

  She felt like an ant, focused and persistent, slowly and quietly transporting her treasures, one by one.

  Her older boy, Darrell, now fourteen, sat by his dad’s side, cheering and yelling at the TV as their favorite team, the Patriots, battled an arch rival. Tyler, who was four, played with trucks in his bedroom. He was still interested in his mother’s activities and was intrigued by the attic. He seized any excuse to get a peek at the mysterious, shadowy space, and without Jessica knowing, he followed her up the attic stairway.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, poking his head up from the opening in the floor.

  “Taking down the Christmas decorations. Want to help me?”

  “Okay.” He climbed to the top of the steps and took a small box from her hands.

  “Take this down, carefully. I’ll get some more.”

  Jessica was glad to have a helper. Tyler wasn’t able to carry much, but his company and questions made the task go faster. By the time the home team declared victory and the pot roast was ready, all the cartons had been brought down and opened up.

  “I love opening the boxes. It’s like seeing everything for the first time. Isn’t it?” Jessica smiled at her son as she peered in a particularly mysterious carton. She always meant to label everything when she put the boxes away but somehow never got around to it.

  “Like a toy that got stuck under the bed,” Tyler observed.

  “Yes, that’s what’s it like,” Jessica agreed. “Exactly.”

  Jessica and Tyler had started unwrapping music boxes, papier-mâché angels, and Jessica’s prized collection of snow globes.

  The big cushioned rocking chair was pushed aside, and the colorful satin tree skirt spread out on the floor where the tree woul
d preside. Tyler played with the tree stand, trying to fit the pieces together. He almost had it, too, Jessica noticed. He was mechanically inclined, just like his father.

  Sam walked in and found them busy at work. “What’s all this? Is it Christmas around here already?”

  Jessica glanced at him over her shoulder then turned back to the box of hand-carved wooden angels she had just discovered. Sam had made the angels for her the first year they were married, the first year they had a Christmas party in their house. She loved the handcrafted figures, each one unique and full of expression. They meant so much to her. She always put them on the fireplace mantel surrounded by fresh greens and small white candles.

  She removed one angel and set it on the lamp table. “If we waited until you were ready, we’d be putting up our tree on Christmas Eve.”

  “Like one of those smart families, you mean?” He picked up a snow globe, shook it, and watched the flakes swirl. “I hear you get a great bargain on a tree that way.”

  “Looks like we have to wait until next year for a discount. Everything is set.”

  “I thought we were going to get a fake tree. One with the lights and ornaments already attached. You just pop it open like an umbrella—”

  Sam gestured, demonstrating. Jessica knew he was only teasing her. He knew she would rather have no tree at all if she couldn’t have a real one.

  “I thought we could go to the tree farm tonight.” She closed the box and glanced at him.

  “So soon?”

  She had a feeling he would say that. Even the expression on his handsome face was no surprise. They had been married more than five years now. “We can take a ride after dinner. To Sawyer’s.”

  “It might snow. I just saw the weather report.”

  “I heard it, too. Just a few flurries. The boys want to get the tree tonight, don’t you, guys?” She turned, appealing to her sons who had both flopped on the couch and were batting at each other with Christmas pillows.

  Sam gave her a look. I know it’s not the boys, Jess. It’s you, he was saying. She smiled and pretended not to notice.

  Tyler turned to his father. “Can we, Dad? Look, I fixed the tree stand. Almost.”

  “Good job. How about you, Darrell? Don’t you have homework or something?” A logical question. Though Jessica detected a hopeful note.

  Darrell, in his first year of high school, had a more reserved reaction than his little brother. But Jessica guessed he would vote for her side. In a cool way, of course.

  “I finished most of it. I can go.” He shrugged, not looking at either of his parents.

  Sam glanced over at her. “Nice work, Mrs. Claus.”

  “Oh, don’t look that way. It will be fun. Dinner’s ready. Can someone set the table?”

  She left the living room, smiling. Sam and the boys followed her into the kitchen.

  I should have tried that tactic before, Jessica thought. That was even easier than I’d thought.

  With the tree search in mind, the family ate dinner quickly. They each carried their dishes to the sink and helped clean up. Sort of, Jessica conceded, as she left the pots to soak in the sink.

  Wearing down jackets, scarves, and gloves, they piled into Sam’s big SUV and headed out to Sawyer’s Tree Farm, about ten miles away on the other side of Cape Light.

  It was a frosty night, with patches of midnight blue sky and bright stars showing through tattered clouds. Jessica could smell snow in the air. But they would be back home by the time it started, drinking hot cocoa and hanging the ornaments. Jessica felt a familiar sense of happy anticipation. She couldn’t help it; she always got excited when they set off to find the tree.

  Sam glanced at her. “I wonder if Sawyer is even open this year. We might have to try a new place.”

  “Oh, I hope not.” Jessica tugged off a glove. “But you might be right. Jack hasn’t been the same since his wife died. Last year he just had the trees. No Christmas shop, or the extras for the kids. I guess Claire was the one who did all that.”

  Darrell was too big for those amusements, but Tyler would miss it, Jessica thought.

  Sam glanced at the back seat, where Darrell was in his own zone, hooked up to his iPod, and Tyler played with an action figure. Reilly, a yellow Lab mix, sat between the boys, panting as he always did on car rides. Darrell’s arm was protectively slung around the dog’s shoulder. He had asked Jessica to get Reilly a doggy seatbelt, but she hadn’t quite gotten around to it.

  Jessica didn’t know why they had to bring the dog every year, but Darrell—who had fixed upon Reilly in the animal shelter, even though the hound was getting on in years and not at all what they’d had in mind—insisted that Reilly be included in family events. Every year Darrell would take Reilly out on his lead at the Christmas tree farm and let him sniff the possible trees for approval.

  Jessica guessed that she and Sam were having the same thought at that moment. How quickly the boys were growing up. Growing away from them. It had been difficult for her to have a baby. They had just about given up when Darrell came into their lives, a nine-year-old more or less abandoned by his family. They had decided to adopt him just as she became pregnant with Tyler.

  Lately, she and Sam had been talking about having another child. After Sam’s sister Molly had a baby about six months ago, they had both realized that they, too, really wanted more children. That was the real reason she quit working at the bank. That and a wish to spend more time with the boys before the years slipped past. They had so many after-school activities now, it was a full-time job just chauffeuring them around.

  She was thirty-eight. Some women were just starting at her age, she kept reminding herself. But considering her history, she wondered if it would happen. She and Sam had decided they wouldn’t go to any extremes. Just let nature—and God’s plan for their lives—take their course. Jessica really hoped she would get pregnant soon. She kept picturing a little baby girl in her arms by the Christmas tree next year, though she tried not to get her hopes up too much.

  “Is this it?” Tyler’s excited voice drew Jessica out of her thoughts.

  “It certainly is,” Sam said, turning up the long, wooded drive that led from the main road to the farm property. At the top of a hill, the drive forked in two directions, one side leading to an old white farmhouse and the other toward acres of cultivated land, where trees and shrubs had been planted in long rows.

  In front of the fields, about a quarter acre was surrounded by a frontier fence. Row upon row of Christmas trees of all kinds, shapes, and sizes stood waiting to be taken home and decorated. There was a small wooden shed to one side, large enough to hold just one or two people, a stool, and a cash box. Jessica noticed a sign on a chalkboard, listing the types of trees and prices. Balsam, spruce, Scotch pine, Douglas fir. Next to that was a brass bell with a rope pull that would call Jack if he was up at his house. If you really wanted him. If not, some customers just chose their trees and left the money. Things were done casually out here in the country.

  Some distance behind the Christmas tree area, Jessica saw the small red barn. A faded sign that read NORTH POLE WORKSHOP hung over the white double doors at a crooked angle. She could remember the barn once filled with decorated wreaths, handmade ornaments and stockings, and baskets full of home-baked cakes and chocolates shaped like stars or reindeer.

  Outside the barn, a large white horse with furry hooves would stomp around his yard, tossing his mane and tail, impatient to pull a cartload of children through the woods. If there was enough snow on the ground, Jack would hitch up a long wooden sleigh, covered with lap robes and jingling bells, and the children would get the ride of a lifetime.

  Jessica remembered taking both her sons on those sleigh rides through the woods at night. The moon had been full and the snow-covered trees had looked edged with pure silver. It made her sad to see the place looking so bleak now. The shop was closed and the area with the Christmas trees had no decorations, not even a wreath or a bow. Just a few spotlig
hts shining down so customers could shop at night.

  “Looks like we’re the only ones here tonight,” Sam noticed as they climbed out of the SUV and headed for the trees. His words made white puffs in the frosty air. “How do you want to do this? Every man for himself, or do we walk around together?”

  “It’s too confusing if we run off in different directions,” Jessica said. “I think we should look at the Douglas firs first. They don’t dry out as quickly as the other kinds.”

  “Good point. Our tree has to hold on to its needles a long time.” Sam looked at her, his brown eyes sparkling under dark brows.

  Jessica smiled but didn’t answer. She followed as Sam led the way to the maze of trees.

  They had been browsing for a while when Jessica looked up to find Jack Sawyer walking toward them. At least she thought it was Jack. She hardly recognized him. His head was bowed under a knit cap pulled down low over his forehead. He looked like an old man, though she knew he was only a few years older than she was, in his early forties. His bearded face and mismatched, worn clothes made him look tired and defeated. So did the expression in his dark brown eyes. He stared at her, unsmiling.

  “Hello, Jack. We’re just looking for a tree.” Jessica felt silly saying something so obvious. But the way he stared at her, and his blank expression, made her nervous.

  “Sure. Take your time.” He glanced over at Sam, who was conferring with the boys and Reilly. They seemed to have narrowed the search down to two or three choices. “Your older boy shot up, didn’t he? He’s getting big.”

  Jessica nodded. It had been a struggle the past two years to keep Darrell in blue jeans that didn’t start riding up his shins like clam diggers. “He’s fourteen. He grew about four inches this year.”

  “That’s the age. He’ll be even taller before you’re through.”

  Jack sighed and rubbed his bearded chin. She wondered if he was thinking about his own son, David. David had left town, she heard, shortly after his mother died. Jessica wasn’t sure what the young man was doing now, whether he was away at school or working somewhere. Something in Jack’s demeanor made it hard to ask him any personal questions. He and his wife were members of the same church she and Sam attended, but she never saw Jack there anymore. She didn’t really know him that well. She suspected his life was not easy, out here all alone now. He seemed unhappy and she suddenly felt sorry for him.