An Endless Christmas

by Cynthia Ruchti

Genres: Contemporary Christian; Christian Romance; Clean & Wholesome Romance

Synopsis

Award-winning novelist’s heartwarming story about family and love lost, found, and finally truly revealed at Christmas.

Release date: October 13, 2015

Publisher: Worthy

Print pages: 240

Sample

Praise for An Endless Christmas

“In An Endless Christmas, the characters walked right off those pages and into my heart, setting up residence and bringing along all the joy and peace they had learned. I love Christmas novellas, and this one is now in my top three of favorites through the years.”

Lauraine Snelling, award-winning, best-selling authorof more than 80 books, including An Untamed Heart

“An Endless Christmas offers up a banquet of faith, family, and new beginnings, perfect for the season of hope.”

Lisa Wingate, national best-selling author ofThe Sea Keeper’s Daughters

“With her trademark wit and keen insight into what makes love last, Cynthia takes us on a jovial ride through the pages of An Endless Christmas.”

Robin Jones Gunn, best-selling author ofFinding Father Christmas

“An Endless Christmas is the perfect Christmas story. A warm-fire tale of family, traditions, friendship, and love. And healing. Ruchti’s smooth prose and voice evoke a Christmas warmth on the pages, and in our hearts. A story to be savored. A story to keep.”

Rachel Hauck, USA Today best-selling author ofThe Wedding Dress and How To Catch A Prince

“Read An Endless Christmas. And then you’ll want to read it again and again. Enjoying Cynthia Ruchti’s book has now become as much a part of my Christmas traditions as cherishing my mother’s collection of Dickens carolers.”

Eva Marie Everson, best-selling, award-winningauthor of Five Brides

“An Endless Christmas is guaranteed to pull at your heartstrings and leave a lifelong impression of family, unconditional love, and God’s redemptive power.”

Cristel Phelps, Mount Hope Church, Lansing, MI

“Cynthia magically weaves one of the most inspiring contemporary Christmas tales with gentle lessons and examples that we all should follow; all the while revealing a poignant love story through several generations. This Christmas story will be reread and enjoyed every Christmas season.”

Dianne Burnett, former Christianbook.com fiction editor

“Sweet and fun and sweet and moving and sweet and tender and funny and touching and . . . sweet! All of that in one An Endless Christmas experience. I closed the book with a contented smile—and with the thought that I could SO read this one again.”

Rhonda Rhea, TV personality, humor columnist, authorof Turtles in the Road, Espresso Your Faith and many more

“An Endless Christmas by Cynthia Ruchti runs true to form for this very talented writer. Delightful read!”

Kathi Macias, award-winning author of Return to Christmas

“Cynthia has related for us, in story fashion, the importance of family and boundless love. Even if we are ‘orphans’ we are part of the endless family of God—loved and cherished forever as His children.”

Deb Haggerty, editor, speaker, writer at PositiveGrace.com

“Few books bring out the soul of strong family ties and being blessed in whatever God allows the way An Endless Christmas did. The story grabbed me from the very first chapter and held me captive until the final page.”

Jill Swanson, image coach, author, speaker

“There is an incomparable charm in the way Cynthia Ruchti puts words on paper. And when she tells the story of An Endless Christmas, she captures the heart of this beloved holiday. The characters and the story are authentic and honest. You’ll find yourself wishing for your own never-ending Yuletide.”

Karen Porter, international speaker, author, and coach

“An Endless Christmas is a story of endless love—not the unrealistic fairytale kind of love, but the kind that endures and perseveres through difficult times, the kind of love that forges a path of forgiveness for future generations to follow.”

Becky Melby, author of the Lost Sanctuary Series

“Reading Cynthia Ruchti’s fiction is like playing Clue—looking for the threads and psychological hints that intertwine characters and lead to unanticipated outcomes. Her fiction—like An Endless Christmas—is an invitation to explore the settings that shape her characters.”

Rachel Mantik, Church library specialist,English and reading specialist

“An Endless Christmas has an endless message—one of hope, healing, and the unconditional love of family. This book reminds us that the things that really matter in life are not tangible; they are found in the hearts and lives of those we love.”

Linda Gilden, author of Mama Was the Queen of Christmas

“Cynthia Ruchti did it again. She captured my interest, drew me into her characters’ lives, caused me to marvel at her clever use of words, and kept me cycling between smiles and sobs. It’s a story delightfully wrapped in the sights, sounds, celebration, and significance of the season. Enjoy it! I sure did.”

Twila Belk (aka The Gotta Tell Somebody Gal),speaker and author of six books, including Raindrops from Heaven

“An Endless Christmas captured my heart and my imagination. Thank you Cynthia Ruchti for introducing me to the folks on the pages of this book. And thank you for reminding me of the importance—not the perfection—of family.”

Kendra Smiley, conference speaker and author of Heart Clutter:Sifting Through the Contents of My Heart, Mind, and Memory

“With her usual warmth, piercing insights into the human heart and quirky characters, Ruchti creates a world where the ‘no matter what’ love of Christ is demonstrated. Grab a cup of cocoa and some tissues to best enjoy this one!”

Sue Badeau, author of Are We There Yet: The Ultimate Road TripAdopting and Raising 22 Kids, speaker and adoptive parent

“Grab a cup of hot cocoa and settle in for a charming Christmas story brimming with all the joy and hope of the season. An Endless Christmas is the perfect holiday gift for Ms. Ruchti’s many fans.”

Dorothy Love, author of A Respectable Actress

“An Endless Christmas is a charming and heart-warming story of Christmas as we wish it to be. Loved it!”

Gayle Roper, author of Seaside Gifts, Lost and Found

“An Endless Christmas provides readers with that touch of home and love and family most of us are looking for during the holiday season. Something that will make us think a little and love a lot.”

Wanda Erickson, librarian

“Author Cynthia Ruchti once again reveals her adept skill in crafting a story of a family’s welcoming warmth—enough to thaw the chill of any doubt or fear.”

Kathy Carlton Willis, women’s ministry leader andauthor of Grin with Grace





“WHAT DID SHE SAY?”

A carol played in the background. Carols perpetually played in the background at the Binders’ cottage at Christmas, Katie Vale had quickly learned. The music almost covered the whispered “What did she say?” that made the rounds of the room built for two that now held twenty.

“She said no.” Dodie Binder—matriarch and tone-setter—leaned closer to her husband, Wilson, whose smile collapsed, stroke-like, when she repeated the answer in his good ear.

“She said no?” He wasn’t the only one asking for clarification.

Katie fingered the heirloom ring. In her hand, not on it. A square-cut diamond surrounded by tiny sapphires. A narrow, glitter-edged ribbon looped through its circle. Moments earlier it had hung on the Binders’ tinseled Christmas tree. “I said . . .”—she apologized to Micah Binder with her eyes and with all she couldn’t express—“no. I can’t accept this. I can’t—”

Was it her imagination, or did the room tilt when all the Binder women shifted to where she stood, wrapping their sweatered and fleeced arms around her, even the youngest? The eight-year-old. What was her name again?

If she’d had more than ten minutes to meet the family before Micah drew her to the Christmas tree and the one ornament out of character with the others, she might have remembered. Twilight. That was her name. The girl who hugged her around the middle as if grabbing on to a teddy bear after falling off her bike.

All Katie wanted to do was apologize properly to Micah, to explain why she had to say no. But the chaos of comfort kept them apart. She caught a glimpse of Micah’s face—iconic for the word crestfallen—in a sea of three uncles and his dad.

She closed her hand around the ring to keep it from slipping to the floor in the melee of “It’ll be okay” and “Don’t you worry, now” and “All is well.”

“All Is Well.” Really? That’s the Christmas song that decided now was a good time to make its presence known?

A voice with the timbre of an eighty-year-old woman—must be Grandma Dodie—said something that sounded a lot like, “Good for you, honey.”

Should she worry or feel blessed that the Binder women gathered around her like professional mourners? Mourners with sweet smiles, no tears. Curious. She dug in and inched closer to Micah, who sat on the arm of the couch where he’d landed after she refused his proposal. The crowd of huggers moved with her like a swarm of shiny fish that swim in circles through the sea.

Micah. He didn’t deserve what he was probably going through right now. “Can we talk?” she mouthed, peeking between two of Micah’s aunts. If his heart ached like hers did . . .

Before he could answer, an earsplitting sound pierced through the supposed-to-be-soothing Christmas music. A smoke detector.

“To the kitchen!” Grandma Dodie shouted. “You little ones stay back.” She gave Katie one final squeeze. “It’s tradition to char at least one pan of cookies every year. Let’s assume that’s all this is.” She limped behind the uncles, who raced past her. They called out the “Not to worry. We’ve got it under control” before she made it through the kitchen door.

One of the college-aged grandkids—Bella? Elisa?—rounded up the younger ones and steered them to the overflowing pegs of coats and boots lined up near the front door. “Outside, kiddies. Let’s go get the mail, okay?”

It took seven people to get the mail? None of the children objected. Within minutes they were out the door as if on an epic adventure. Micah and Katie were the only two left in the family room. It adjoined the kitchen in Dodie and Wilson’s small cottage in the woods, but the other adults had formed a hedge of noise between the two rooms, leaving the couple virtually alone.

“Micah, I—”

He raised his hand to stop her. “No explanation necessary.”

“You’re okay with this?” Maybe she’d overestimated his affection for her. Good to know.

“Not okay.” He tapped his heart with a closed fist. “But you don’t have to say anything. No is an answer.”

“But it isn’t the whole story.”

He stood then and stepped close enough to plant his hands on her shoulders. “Katie?” The tremor in his voice and the look in his eyes told the truth. He wasn’t brushing off her rejection as if it didn’t matter. Those pale blue eyes that had at first startled her, then captivated her, blinked back man-tears. “I . . .”

“What is it?” Would she have the resolve to refuse if he asked again? It was for his own good. If only he knew that. God, a little help here?

Micah’s forehead became as rutted as the snow-packed lane that had brought them to the cottage. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. A deep breath. “I’ll show you where you can put your things. You get the window seat in the kitchen. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Pretty roomy, actually, and more than long enough for . . . the petite.” He headed toward the luggage they’d left near the front door in Micah’s haste to move straight from, “Hi, everyone. This is Katie Vale,” to “Katie, will you marry me?”

“I can’t stay,” she said. He couldn’t think she would stay there at the cottage with the family whose favorite—and only—male grandchild she’d just jilted, could he?

He turned to face her, eyes wide. “Do you want me out of your life?”

“No!”

Micah smiled. “That ‘no’ stung a lot less than the first one.”

The man was not right in the head. Better to find out now.

He opened the front closet and slid her luggage into the only horizontal shelf space not already occupied. “You’ll have to tuck your carry-on into the storage cubby under the window seat. Just lift off the cushion and you’ll find a hinged lid. Your blankets and pillow are in there, too, Grandma Dodie said.”

She was staying? No. Talk about awkward family gatherings. She thought she’d seen them all.

“Did I hear my name used in vain?” Grandma Dodie poked her head around the corner between the family room and kitchen.

Micah waved her into the room. “I was explaining the intricacies of finding sleeping accommodations for a crowd this large.”

“We’re all set for you, Katie. Your towels are the pink ones in the bathroom to the right.”

“Why is no one booting me out the door?” She kept her voice as light as possible, under the circumstances.

“Oh, honey,” Dodie said. “You don’t want to miss the Binder Family Christmas. Does she, Micah?”

“I wouldn’t, if I were her.” He walked past Katie and whispered, “It’ll be okay. Promise.”

How, how, how could it be okay? And how had they gone from wheels down in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport to this new episode in the chronicles of Katie’s failed relationships?

Katie slid her phone into her purse, the flesh of her heart still smoking from the way the texted words burned.

“Anything important?” Micah asked, glancing only briefly from his position behind the steering wheel of the economy rental car.

Important? A death knell. “It can wait.”

“You really are trying to unplug from work this week, aren’t you? Proud of you,” he said. “If I hadn’t forgotten my charger, the challenge would be harder for me. Battery will last maybe through the rest of the day. Then I’m turning Amish. Unless somebody at the cottage has a charger to match. They have to. Won’t last long, though, with Grandma’s house rules.”

What did that mean?

He pointed to the dash display. “Hey, look. The temp has dropped another two degrees. We’re now officially sixty degrees colder than we would be at home right now.”

Katie rubbed her jean-covered knees and wiggled her toes in her new-enough-to-be-stiff fleece-lined boots, as if the rental car’s heater wasn’t adequate to ward off the chill threatening outside the vehicle. December in the Northwoods. Stunning in pictures. Frostbite waiting to happen, up close and personal. Her Southern roots were showing. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

Micah reached for the heater control.

She stopped him with a gloved hand over his. “It’s not the weather.” Katie leaned her head against the passenger-side window. Cold as an ice pack but without its pain-reducing effects. Even if she could discount the hollowing text message, who wouldn’t feel at least mild apprehension at the thought of meeting “the parents” for the first time?

Meeting Micah’s parents at Christmas meant meeting the whole Binder family—. . .