A Daughter for Christmas

by Stephanie Dees

  “Loss sneaks up on you, you know?”

  A single tear streaked down Eve’s face. She stared into the darkness. “I’ve been just trying to survive these last few years. Being here, it’s like having time to finally breathe.”

  She looked at Tanner then. The honesty in her eyes sliced deep. Still, he hesitated. Talking about his feelings wasn’t exactly his strong suit. “Sometimes I think I only went on for other people, Eve. My brothers.”

  “And now?”

  He wanted to end this conversation that was casting light into places that were better off in the dark. But he couldn’t do that, not when Eve was being open with him.

  Her hand slid into Tanner’s, fingers warm as she tangled them with his. They didn’t move.

  And for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. There was no today or tomorrow, or even ten minutes from now. There was only this moment with the swing rocking and Christmas music playing...

  Award-winning author Stephanie Dees lives in small-town Florida with her pastor husband and their two youngest children. A Southern girl through and through, she loves sweet tea, SEC football, corn on the cob and air-conditioning. For further information, please visit her website at stephaniedees.com.

  Books by Stephanie Dees

  Love Inspired

  Triple Creek Cowboys

  The Cowboy’s Twin Surprise

  The Cowboy’s Unexpected Baby

  A Daughter for Christmas

  Family Blessings

  The Dad Next Door

  A Baby for the Doctor

  Their Secret Baby Bond

  The Marriage Bargain

  Visit the Author Profile page

  at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  A DAUGHTER FOR CHRISTMAS

  Stephanie Dees

  To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.

  —Isaiah 61:3

  For Sierra Donovan, best critique partner and friend a writer could hope for. Here’s to all the chapters to come!

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to Melissa Jeglinski at The Knight Agency and Melissa Endlich at Love Inspired—you’re the best!

  And a special thanks to T and S, who never fail to prop me up, and who make this solitary life a lot more fun!

  Contents

  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

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from An Amish Holiday Courtship by Emma Miller

  Chapter One

  Christmas music drifted out of the open door of the small cabin as Eve Fallon tied the last piece of garland to the porch with a flourish. Three hours after arriving, with her minivan still loaded down with boxes, she wasn’t even going to pretend that she wouldn’t rather be unpacking in the kitchen. But these decorations weren’t for her.

  They were for four-year-old Alice, who was dancing around Eve on her tiptoes, the expression on her sweet little face the closest thing to a smile that Eve had seen in a long time.

  Eve held the end of an extension cord and the garland. “Ready?”

  Alice gave a vigorous nod, silky blond curls bouncing.

  “Well, okay, then.” With a laugh, Eve pushed the cords together. The lights sparked to life in the dark green garland. Every last one of them. A Christmas dream come true.

  “Ohh,” Alice breathed.

  Eve looked at her in surprise. “You like it?”

  “Pretty.”

  Tears sprang into Eve’s eyes. “It is, baby. It is pretty.”

  The single word was the first Alice had said in six long weeks, since her preschool had been locked down and the little girl had witnessed her teacher being held at gunpoint by an estranged boyfriend.

  No telling what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten spooked by police sirens before running out the back door. Eve shook her head. No good came from speculating about that.

  Brushing her hands off on her jeans, she smiled at her daughter. “Why don’t we go see what we can do with the rest of this place? I heard there was a Christmas tree in the bedroom closet. Want to see if we can find it?”

  As Alice ran back through the door, Eve took a moment to look around. The tiny cabin was tucked into the back of a tranquil farm. She’d rented it on a whim, deciding she and Alice needed to get out of the city, away from the memories that locked Alice behind a wall of fear.

  A fresh start. A chance to heal.

  Inhaling a deep breath of crisp December air, she nodded. Moving to Alabama had been the right decision. The cozy scent of smoke from nearby fireplaces wafted on the air. It even smelled like Christmas here.

  Laughing to herself, Eve turned toward the house and her little girl. Alice loved Christmas. And Eve would do just about anything to make Alice feel happy and safe again.

  “Hey!”

  Eve spun toward the voice. The owner of said voice was tall and lean, looked to be about thirty-five or so, with a dusty leather cowboy hat on his head. And as he strode toward her, she could see a day or two of stubble shadowing a strong jaw.

  She smiled. “Hi.”

  “You’re trespassing.” Dark eyes narrowed as he glowered at her.

  Her smile faded. “Excuse me?”

  When his expression didn’t change, she realized this wasn’t going to be the welcome she’d been expecting. Reaching behind her, she tugged the door closed and prayed Alice didn’t come outside. The last thing her daughter’s fragile confidence needed was an encounter with an angry man.

  “You’re trespassing.” He said it slower, as if she didn’t understand him the first time.

  Eve met him at the bottom of the steps and held out a hand. “Ah, no. I’m Eve Fallon. The tenant.”

  “We don’t have a tenant.” He still didn’t smile. And up close, she realized that his face was less angry than exhausted. And something else...sad?

  “Beg to differ.” Keeping him in sight, Eve walked to her van. She picked up a file folder from the front seat, flipped through it and pulled out the stack of papers she was looking for. She held it out for him. “I have a lease. It’s signed by—”

  He tugged the papers from her hand and scowled at the signature. “Garrett. I’m gonna kill him.”

  She took a step backward toward the house, her hand groping for the porch railing behind her. “I think you need to leave now.”

  His face changed, the harsh lines softening. He took a step away from her, one hand coming up, her lease still clenched in the other. “You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you. I’m leaving.”

  Eve believed he was telling the truth. Regardless, she watched him until he rounded the corner and walked slowly toward the main farmhouse. Her shoulders—and her mood—deflated like a three-day-old balloon.

  Okay, so maybe the new place wasn’t as perfect as she imagined i
t would be. She’d dealt with worse. But it was disappointing. This was supposed to be her refuge, the place where Alice turned back into the happy preschooler she’d been before the armed intruder threatened her school.

  Eve took a deep breath, searching the clear blue sky for inspiration. Lord, what do I do now?

  First, she needed to check on Alice. If that man had scared Alice...well, Eve wasn’t about to let a cranky cowboy retraumatize her little girl.

  She found the four-year-old on the yellow-flowered couch that had come with the place. Alice was bent over her iPad, noise-canceling headphones covering her ears, but she looked up as the door opened. A fleeting smile for her mom, then she turned her attention back to the game.

  Eve let out a long, slow breath. Thankfully, no damage done. Yet. Annoyance merged with a healthy dose of anger as she dug her cell phone out of her back pocket and dialed her landlord with shaking fingers.

  He could figure this mess out. She had a Christmas tree to decorate.

  * * *

  Tanner Cole paced the length of the farmhouse porch and back again, waiting for his brother to pick up the phone. He’d been drilling the importance of owning your mistakes into that knucklehead for years. Seemed only fair he’d have to own his own now, for the kind of welcome he’d given the new tenant.

  With an impatient gesture, he pulled off his hat, scrubbed a hand over his hair and settled it back where it belonged. Grief lay heavy on his shoulders today, reminders everywhere of the life he’d lost, especially at the cottage.

  He’d carried Kelly over the threshold of that door when they’d returned from their honeymoon. And carried their son over it when they’d arrived home from the hospital ten months later. The memories were vivid in his mind, as if the car accident had happened yesterday, not fifteen years ago today.

  They were with him every day, but he didn’t dwell on the loss, not anymore. One day a year he let himself get angry that in an instant he’d lost so much that mattered to him. Both of his parents, Kelly, little Caleb. He owed it to them—all of them—to grieve.

  Garrett answered the phone with a clipped “Well?”

  Tanner stopped walking. “I may have messed up.”

  His brother let the silence stretch on, one of his lawyer tricks that managed to simultaneously convey both shock and judgment at Tanner’s actions. It was designed to make Tanner want to say something—anything—to fill the void.

  “If you have something to say to me, spit it out.” Tanner scowled, and when Garrett’s silence continued, he doubled down on his annoyance. “You should’ve told me you leased the cottage.”

  Papers rustled as Garrett shuffled them on his desk. “We talked about listing it at the last family meeting.”

  “Listing it, not that it had actually been rented.” Tanner caught himself and took a breath, scratching his forehead. He was in the wrong here. Not Garrett. Not the new tenant. “It doesn’t matter. I was a jerk to her. It’s a bad day, but that’s no excuse.”

  Garrett sighed. “I know. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I thought she was moving in over the weekend.”

  “Kelly would skin me alive if she knew how I’d acted.” The afternoon sun had warmed the chill out of the air, and Tanner shrugged out of his flannel shirt, wadding it up and tossing it onto a porch chair. “And Mom...she’d be slamming things around in the kitchen, trying to get her point across.”

  Garrett swallowed hard on the other end of the phone call. “Mom never hesitated to bang a pan if she thought it would help. I miss them.”

  There was a catch in his brother’s voice. And the heavy weight of grief lifted slightly for Tanner, just remembering his brother shared it, understood it. “Me, too. I’m sorry about the tenant. I think I scared her.”

  “You’re gonna have to apologize. We need the income. It isn’t much, but she signed a lease, and we already allocated the money for the new barn.”

  “I’d apologize anyway. You know that,” Tanner said, back stiffening.

  “I know you would.” A sigh came through the line, muffled voices behind it. “My next appointment is here. I’ll see you on Saturday for family dinner. Fix this, Tanner.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Garrett’s wife, Abby, had started the Saturday tradition as a way to reconnect. Tanner, who valued his alone time, had privately balked at the idea. Weren’t they under each other’s feet enough as it was?

  But his younger brothers’ wives had brought laughter and music and children back into the old farmhouse. New enthusiasm for their business. And it didn’t take Tanner long to realize Abby had been right. He’d spent a lot of years barely surviving. He needed his nieces and nephew with their sloppy kisses and their toys underfoot and all their noise to remind him he was alive.

  Remind him he wanted to be alive.

  He picked up his flannel shirt off the rocking chair and took it into the house, hanging it on a hook by the door.

  His dog, Sadie, padded over to him from her bed by the fireplace. He reached down to scratch her head before continuing through the living room to the kitchen, where he poured himself a cup of coffee.

  Sadie tilted her head, making one brown rottweiler eyebrow seem higher than the other. Tanner felt the ghost of a smile tug the corners of his mouth despite himself. “No comments from you, thanks.”

  He set his cup on the table and picked up his pencil to start a list. He had a feeling he was going to need every advantage he could scrounge up to make amends with the new tenant.

  And everyone knew apologies went better with presents.

  * * *

  With Alice in bed in the tiny second bedroom, Eve picked up a soft wool throw, wrapped it around her shoulders and stepped onto the porch. The twinkle lights she’d hung earlier were friendly and homey, but it was the stars in the sky that made her catch her breath. She never would’ve seen these in Atlanta and they were glorious, as if God had taken His paintbrush and flicked it, slinging stars into a random, beautiful pattern across the sky.

  Rustling dry leaves caught her attention. She’d heard coyotes howling in the distance earlier. She took a step closer to the house. They didn’t have coyotes in the city.

  A huge black dog took the stairs in one bounding leap.

  Eve jumped back. “Oh!”

  “Sadie!” A man’s voice called in the distance.

  “You’re Sadie, I presume?” Eve took a deep breath, laughing a little at her groundless fears...now that she knew they were groundless.

  The dog nosed her hand for a scratch. And who could resist that soulful, dark-eyed gaze? Eve dropped into a chair and scratched the big black head as her new neighbor rounded the corner of the dirt road that led from his house to hers.

  She sighed. He might be grumpy, but he was also handsome, effortlessly masculine in his jeans and boots. But honestly, she wasn’t up to another confrontation.

  He stopped when he caught sight of her. “I should’ve known Sadie would find you.”

  “She’s sweet.” Eve watched as the dog unerringly sniffed her way to a cookie Alice had dropped under the porch swing that afternoon. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I come in peace.” His eyes on her, he smiled slightly and lifted a basket. “Bearing gifts?”

  “Well, in that case, by all means...” She waved an arm at the porch.

  The man wasn’t as presumptuous as his dog, stopping at the bottom of the steps. “I was a jerk this morning. No excuses. I hope you can forgive me.”

  Eve brushed spiky brown bangs away from her eyes and leaned forward to study his face. “Did your brother make you say that?”

  “He might’ve encouraged me.” A dimple deepened in his cheek as he took a step forward and held out his hand. “I’m Tanner Cole.”

  “Eve Fallon.” She reached her hand out to his, her eyes darting up as strong fingers, work worn
and calloused, closed over hers.

  “I remember. And who is that little towhead in the window?”

  “What?” Eve spun around in her chair, catching a glimpse of her wide-eyed four-year-old staring out at them. “Hang on just a minute.”

  When Eve opened the door, Alice was still at the window, bare feet poking out from the hem of her ruffled pink nightgown. Her eyes were worried and full of questions as she pointed at Tanner.

  Eve lifted Alice into her arms, nuzzling the curls that smelled like baby shampoo from an earlier bath. “It’s okay, baby girl. He lives in the big white house down the road. As long as you’re awake, why don’t you come say hello?”

  She tucked the warm throw around Alice before walking back out to the porch, where Tanner still waited at the bottom of the steps. “This towhead is my daughter, Alice. She’s four.”

  “Hi, Alice. I’m Tanner.” He waggled the fingers of one hand and hefted the large basket again with the other. “I brought you all some presents from all of us here at Triple Creek Ranch. Do you like cookies?”

  Eve felt Alice’s little body tremble as she buried her face in Eve’s shoulder. “She definitely likes cookies, but she’s not much for strangers. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. She’s not being rude. She doesn’t know me.” Tanner’s smile was open and easy as he placed the basket within their reach on the porch and carefully stepped back. “I loaded the basket up with some of the stuff we stock at our farm stand. Everything’s organic and made right here.”

  “That’s very nice of you. Thank you.”

  He gave her a single nod and took a step back. “I’ll see you around, then. Come on, Sadie.”

  The dog was at his side in an instant, and he turned to walk away.

  “I’m sorry about your family,” Eve blurted, immediately wishing she could grab the words and shove them back in.

  Tanner’s footsteps faltered to a stop, but he turned back, hands in his jeans pockets. “Thanks.”

  “Your brother told me. He thought it might explain...you know, what happened earlier. I wish I’d known. Anniversaries are hard.” She’d learned that firsthand after her husband hadn’t come home after his last deployment. The empty spaces could never be filled. You just kept living with them day by day until they became a part of who you were.