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Mike suggested it to the others, in fact, the afternoon of Christmas Eve. After peering out at the rumpled, shrinking mound that was Joey’s half-undug truck, he came back to the others. “I think,” the dark-skinned man stated with a smile, “that we will all be able to go to your church tomorrow morning.”

“‘We’?” Joey asked, arching a brow his way. “Ain’t you a Muslim?”

“Yes, but we do honor Christ in our own way. His birth is worthy of celebrating.” Mike looked at Bella, who shrugged.

“I’m willing to admit he was special, even if I don’t know personally if he was the Messiah my people prophesied, or merely a prophet of God.” She looked at Cassie. They all looked at her. The faiths of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all shared common beliefs at their foundation, but Buddhism was different.

“What?” the vivacious blonde asked, glancing at the others in the front parlor. “There’s nothing in the writings that say I cannot also revere Christ. Buddhism is an addition to one’s faith. Besides, between Joey and Steve’s trucks, and our Bug, we can make it just fine, I’m sure of it. And it’ll be nice to interact with other people,” Cassie added. “As nice as we’ve all been to each other, it’ll make an equally pleasant change.”

A beeping sound in the distance jerked Steve onto his feet. Dave looked up at him, curious. “What is it?”

“That’s the generator’s alarm.” He grinned at the others. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have power! I’ll just go shut off the generator, to conserve what’s left of the fuel in the tank.”

“If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition,” Mike offered politely, looking Rachel’s way, “could I possibly check my e-mail? I have some very important messages I’ve been waiting for.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Rachel allowed. “I’m glad you asked me this time around.” She gave him a wry smile. “Steve and I were going to put WiFi into the house for our guests, but that got derailed by more important things last summer. Don’t take too long; I still need to check and make sure we’ve enough in our bank balance to cover the mortgage withdrawal.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Bella offered, smiling. “’Tis the season for brotherhood, kindness, and miracles, after all.”

THE CHURCH WAS CROWDED WHEN THEY ARRIVED THE NEXT morning. The sky was still overcast and the wind was still blowing, but the weather wasn’t hampering travel anymore. In fact, it looked like the only people missing were Steve’s parents, but they would’ve been gone through the whole of the holiday season anyway, including missing out on their son’s quiet wedding. Steve and Rachel had urged them to go, however; a Caribbean cruise was an opportunity not to be missed. So, though both of them missed the elder Bethels, they had a good time greeting everyone in the community with hugs and introducing their three out-of-town guests, before settling into the padded pews for the service.

Steve knew the big miracles of his faith were worthy of honoring, but as Rachel snuggled into his side during the reading of the nativity scene, he thought that the woman at his side was his own personal miracle. She wasn’t a large miracle, but she was his fiancée, his soon-to-be wife, a woman willing to stand beside him through thick and thin, and that was miraculous enough. From the way her hand crept up to cover her stomach, he could guess she was thinking about a different sort of miracle, the possible creation of life between the two of them. Happier than he had been in a long time, he returned his attention to the service.

At the end of the closing prayer, rather than giving the final parting words of peace and fellowship he usually did, Pastor Jonathan lifted one of his hands and said something unexpected. “And now, for the other thing that drew so many of you out here, despite the lingering snow and the icy roads. Not quite so important as the birth of Our Lord, but important enough to this community to make the effort to stay just a little longer. Will Steven Bethel and Rachel Rutherford please stand?”

Startled, Rachel and Steve exchanged looks before complying; they felt the eyes of the rest of the congregation upon them as they did so, as well as the warmth of everyone’s smiles.

“As we all know, the Bethel Inn has hit some hard times in recent months. Including to the point that this loving couple gave up their dreams of holding a big wedding, because they couldn’t afford it anymore. Well, it being the season for miracles…and aided by the modern miracle of e-mail”—Pastor Jonathan chuckled—“we have managed to pull off a small miracle of our own. Steve, Rachel…if you will permit your friends here in the community to do so, we’d like to give you a big wedding day, right here, right now!

“We already have the civil paperwork from the county, since you picked it up last week…and our three newest guests managed to smuggle in your best outfits,” he added, smiling and nodding at Bella, Cassie, and Mike, who gave unrepentant little smiles and waves to the startled couple. “And since everyone is already here, we all thought, why not celebrate not only a birth, but a wedding as well today? What do you say?” the pastor asked them.

Encouraging words were called out from the sea of faces lining the church. “Go on!” “Do it!” “Don’t let ’er get away!” “Don’t let him get away!”

Laughter greeted that last outburst; then the congregation quieted, waiting for their reply. Rachel glanced at their three conspirator guests, then looked up at Steve. “Well, you want to get hitched a few days early?”

“More than anything in the world,” Steve agreed, before pulling her close enough to kiss. The sound of the pastor clearing his throat broke them apart. Keeping one arm around his fiancée’s shoulder, Steve looked at the community members gathered in the church around them, warmed beyond words. “Thank you all for this incredible surprise. I—”

Several arriving figures at the entry doors caught his attention. And Rachel’s. She squinted, then widened her eyes. “Mom? Dad?”

“We weren’t sure we’d make it, the roads are that messy!” Rachel’s mother called out from the back of the sanctuary, unwrapping the scarf covering her face. The others resolved themselves into Rachel’s siblings. “Sorry we couldn’t make it for the service.”

“God forgives when it’s with good intentions. You’re just in time to get ready for the wedding. Everyone else, there will be a half-hour break while beautiful things are done to the bride, and the groom is wrestled into his suit,” Pastor Jonathan joked. “Tea and coffee are waiting in the fellowship room. God bless you and hold you in His heart!”

A hand on his elbow distracted Steve from following Rachel as she made her way toward her family, somehow brought all the way out from Des Moines for the occasion. Turning, he saw it was Mr. Thomas Harrod, the mustached, stiffly postured bank owner. Fear raced through him. Didn’t we have enough to pay the mortgage?

The older, graying gentleman cleared his throat with a touch of awkwardness. “My, ah, wife pointed out to me that our son, Richard, cannot make cheese. If he cannot make cheese, she cannot eat cheese. Not the Bethel Inn Blue Ribbon Cheese, at any rate. And then she gave me a half-hour lecture on how long the Bethel Inn has been operating, how prosperous it normally is, and…well, she made a lot of sense, once my ears stopped ringing.

“So I’m letting you know that I am going to give the Bethel Inn special dispensation, a full month’s leeway in its mortgage payments. Of course, you didn’t need it for this month,” Mr. Har-rod added under his breath. “But the offer stands. My wife said, you don’t make a business prosperous by trying to pretend your best clients aren’t all that good…and your family has been very good to mine for a very long time. She said I owe you…and I find I’m inclined to agree.”