A Merry Little Christmas by Anita Higman

injured.”
    “Yes?”
    “I fell while I was trying to put out the fire.”
    “Fire?” Franny crossed her arms on the table. “What fire?”
    Charlie flinched. “The one that burned down the barn.”
    “The barn? It’s gone?” The shock of his announcement ran through her like a cherry Kool-Aid spill on a white tablecloth—swiftly and deeply.
    “Oh, Franny. How can I tell you how very sorry I am? And it happened on my watch.” He reached out and touched her sleeve. “None of the animals got hurt. In fact, it scared the cows so much they broke through the fence.”
    “Oh my.”
    “But the cows are fine. I rounded them up. The fire department said the fire started from a short in the wiring. It started not long after you left.”
    “Oh, my, my, my.” Franny imagined what the farm landscape must have looked like as the flames took the old building down. Not caring about her lipstick any longer, she pressed her fingers to her mouth and squashed her lips together.
    “It was so odd, don’t you think? That it happened the moment you were gone…as if the whole farm was in an upheaval, not wanting you to go.” Charlie gave her a weak smile. “Please say something. You’re welcome to holler at me.”
    “How could I be upset with you? I mean, it’s your farm now. And they said it wasn’t your fault anyway. Mice probably chewed through the wiring. You’ll need to buy a cat.”
    Charlie’s pained expression didn’t soften.
    “I promise you, I’m not upset. I’m just stunned. And I’m awfully glad you weren’t seriously injured.” Thank You, God, that he didn’t perish in the fire, trying to save the barn. “You have some good insurance, better than what I had, so you’ll get a brand-new barn. That old barn was beyond its prime…so rickety it could barely hold itself up anymore. It’ll be all right.”
    “So you’re not furious with me?”
    “No, of course not.”
    Charlie steepled his fingers together and leaned toward her. “Good, because there’s more to my story.”
    “Oh?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    “Well, my hired hand, Farley—he hurt himself.”
    “Badly?” Perhaps these mishaps were her fault, for leaving Charlie too soon.
    “No.”
    “So he hurt himself in the fire?” Franny tried to remove the alarm from her face, since she didn’t want to add to Charlie’s grief.
    “No. Actually, Farley hurt himself at home. He fractured his arm by falling off his daughter’s rocking horse. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to help me now. I went into town and asked around at the diner, but everybody’s busy with their own work.”
    Franny tried not to grin. “So, Farley injured himself falling off his daughter’s rocking horse? Farley never did have very much horse sense. Folks will pray for him as hard as they’ll howl with laughter.” She put up her hand. “Sorry, it’s not funny.” She leaned toward him. “So, Charlie, who’s looking after the piglets? Did you remember to give them their iron shots? And who’s watching out for Frutti? Is she starting to nest yet? If you don’t watch her carefully, she’ll end up having her babies in the field, and you know—”
    “Everything is all right. Farley’s brother is there watching over everything…for now. But he only promised to take over for today and tomorrow. I have to go back tomorrow evening.” Charlie touched Franny’s apron. “So, what happened at the radio stations?”
    Franny hated to pile her unhappy news on top of his, but he would have to know sooner or later. “The truth is, no one wanted me. Not even as a receptionist. After I thought about it, I realized they were pretty wise in their decision. I have no college education. No background in radio. I have an Oklahoma accent and a voice that goes squeaky as a rusty windmill when I get excited. I was so sure of myself, and yet this was the most foolish thing I’ve ever done in my life.” She picked up the apron and tied it around her waist.
    She reached for her