A Family for Christmas (Contemporary Romance Novella)

by Helen Scott Taylor

  Tom frowned at Eve's blackened toast before dumping it in the trash and making some more. He poured her a cup of tea and put it on the stove at her side along with toast and marmalade. "Eat up. We need to get away as soon as possible to give ourselves plenty of time."

  While Tom carried her bags to the pickup, Eve put on her borrowed coat, boots, hat, and gloves.

  Polly clung to Eve's hand as they went out. "I want to come, Daddy."

  "No, sweetheart. You need to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Undy where I know you're safe. I'll be home later."

  "Can we go to church first? I want to show Eve the Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus that my class made."

  Tom crouched in front of his daughter and tucked stray wisps of blonde hair behind her ears. "I promise we'll go to church on Christmas Eve. You can show me the nativity scene then. Today I've got to take Eve to Plymouth so she doesn't miss her important meeting tomorrow."

  "But Eve won't get to see the baby Jesus I made." The poor little girl was coming up with any reason she could think of to delay Eve's departure.

  Lines of tension framed Tom's mouth. His patience was obviously wearing thin.

  "Take a photo of the nativity scene, Polly. You can send it to me," Eve suggested.

  The little girl gave a resigned nod and Tom stood. "Right. You hop in, Eve. I'll be right back."

  "Goodbye, Polly." Eve crouched, not caring that the knees of her sweatpants sank in the snow, and hugged the child tightly.

  Polly sobbed softly into her hair. "Don't go."

  "Come on, pumpkin." Tom took his daughter's hand and disentangled her from Eve. Tears ran down the little girl's face. She dragged her feet as her father led her across the yard and around the corner to where the Undys obviously had their cottage.

  Eve's chest tightened painfully. She pulled out a tissue and wiped away her own tears, not wanting Tom to know how upset she was. She glanced around one final time, her gaze lingering on her damaged car. How mixed up her feelings had become since she was stranded.

  Chapter Five

  At the sound of Tom's footsteps returning, Eve climbed in the passenger's seat of the pickup and buckled up.

  Tom locked the door of his house and joined her. "I've packed shovels, blankets, sandwiches, and a flask of coffee. Just in case we're stranded."

  "You expect us to get stuck?" Eve wanted to return to civilization and put Tom behind her, not spend a night trapped in a pickup with him.

  "It pays to plan for the worst."

  The worst. "Right."

  Tom pulled away and Eve reached for the grab handle as the vehicle bumped and lurched over the mounds of snow that had been compacted beneath his tractor's tires. When they hit the narrow moorland road, Tom turned right. "It's normally forty minutes from here to Plymouth. My bet is it'll take us three or four times that long today."

  A tractor or other large-wheeled vehicle had already passed along the road, so Tom followed in the tire tracks. After a couple of miles they met their first obstacle, a deep snow drift across the road. The vehicle that had gone before them had driven over the moorland to avoid the drift. Tom pulled up and scratched his chin. "I can't risk following those tire tracks off road. Rocks or ditches might be hidden under the snow."

  They jumped out. Tom climbed on top of his vehicle and stood with his arms akimbo, a frown on his face. "The snow's only drifted for about six feet where a wall borders the road. Let's dig it away. It shouldn't take long."

  "Okay." She hoped he was right. The route looked impassable to her. Eve accepted a shovel and they set to work. The snow was deep but not tightly packed. Where it had frozen overnight, it came away in large, ice-crusted lumps. After an hour, her arms felt like they were going to drop off, but between them they had opened a gap wide enough for the pickup to pass through.

  "Success!" Tom grinned, a flash of white teeth. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight reflected off the snow.

  Eve grinned back, feeling daring and invigorated like an explorer on an expedition.

  "Time for a cup of coffee, I think," Tom said. They sat on the hood of the pickup, steaming plastic mugs in their gloved hands, and examined their handiwork. "You did well for a pencil pusher."

  "I try to keep in shape by jogging, but I'm not as fit as I thought." Eve flexed her aching fingers. "Or my hands and arms aren't. Anyway, you were a pencil pusher once as well."

  "Yep. I know." Tom sipped his coffee and stared out across the desolate, snowy moorland. "Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, whisking Polly away from everything she knew and bringing her down here."

  "She seems to like it."

  "I know, but it was a bit of a knee-jerk reaction. After Karen walked out, I wanted to get away from the life that had caused us such heartache. Give us a fresh start."

  "Why Dartmoor?"

  Tom smiled fondly. "I was trying to rediscover my happy past, I think. My parents brought me here on vacation when I was a boy. Back then, the Undys ran the farm and rented the cottage to vacationers. They sold me the farm and kept the cottage. It's useful to have old Undy around. He still works on the farm for me."

  Eve glanced at Tom curiously. So she wasn't the only one who reminisced about her happy childhood. "You got along well with your parents?"

  "The best days of my life," Tom said softly.

  "Where do your parents live?"

  "In Barbados. Dad used to run a company that manufactured specialist filters, but he sold it and retired a couple of years ago. These days they prefer to live where the weather's hot."

  Eve wrapped her fingers around her warm mug. "I can see how that might be appealing."

  "Yeah." Tom laughed. "Perhaps I should have taken Polly to my parents' place in Barbados instead of here."

  "Then who would have rescued me when I broke down?"

  "Ah, you might not have needed rescuing. If Pickle hadn't been in the middle of the road, you might have made it through the snow. "

  The last eighteen unhappy months of Eve's life flashed through her mind. "I think I'd have still needed rescuing."

  Tom's blue eyes twinkled with intelligence, his cheeks pinked from the cold. The tips of his dark hair peeped out from under his hat. She gripped his hand through his glove and he closed his fingers around hers, squeezing back.

  He had done so much more than rescue her from the snow.

  "Thank you, Tom. Thank you for reminding me what's important in life."

  The smile faded from his lips and he held her gaze, his own sharpening with curiosity. "I did that?"

  "You and Polly."

  "Well, that's good."

  They sat in silence then, holding hands, his large, warm fingers engulfing hers, the simple touch filling her throat with a knot of longing and affection.

  How could she have grown so fond of this man in such a short time? She'd dated guys for months and not felt this close to them. But she had never dated one who was a patch on Tom. There was something very special about this man sitting beside her. His ex-wife must have been a fool not to see that.

  "Better get back on the road if you want to reach Plymouth today." Tom tossed the dregs of his coffee in the snow and climbed back into the pickup.

  They set off again, the four-wheel drive negotiating icy stretches of road that Eve wouldn't have dared try to travel alone. The snow cover thinned as they dropped towards sea level. "It's a few degrees warmer down here," Tom said, pointing at the temperature displayed on his dashboard.

  An hour later, they reached the main road into Plymouth. A snowplow had cleared it. A variety of vehicles crawled over the gritty surface, heading for the city. "I'll drop you at the car rental place a couple of miles away. From there you should have no trouble driving into the city center."

  Eve slouched in her seat as Tom put his foot on the gas and sped up. Children played in the snow, throwing snowballs and building snowmen. Houses, shops, and hotels lined the road. Back to civilization. Exactly what Eve had wanted. So why did she feel miserable?

 
"Here we are." Tom turned into the car rental company and parked by the office. "I'll unload your bags while you fill out the paperwork."

  "Thanks." Eve went into the office, completed the form with details of her insurance company, and picked up some keys.

  She paused outside the door and scanned the car park. "It's the blue Ford over there." She pointed and Tom carried her case and laptop bag across.

  She pressed the key and the car unlocked with a click. Tom loaded her bags and slammed the trunk. "This is good-bye, then."

  "I can't thank you enough for rescuing me and taking me in. I don't know what I'd have done without you." She wanted to give him a hug, but now the time had come to part, she felt awkward.

  He pushed his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugged. "I'd do the same for anybody."

  "Yes, well..." If he was trying to let her know she wasn't special to him, he'd succeeded. Eve turned away and grasped the door handle.

  His hand shot out and gripped her arm. "Sorry. That didn't come out right."

  "Don't worry, Tom. Perhaps I'd better just go."

  He pushed a slip of paper in her hand. "Let me know if you get your partnership."

  "What?" She turned, and suddenly his arms were around her, one of his hands stroking her hair.

  "I'll miss you, Eve. I'll miss you." He drew her close, and his lips brushed across hers. Her eyelids fell at the firm, warm press of his mouth, the feel of his hard body against hers.

  Then he pulled away, a confused smile on his lips. "Sorry, I… Sorry." He backed away, hands raised, and shrugged. "Good luck, Eve."

  He hopped in his pickup, gunned the engine, then turned into the stream of traffic and was gone.

  ***

  Eve sat in the waiting area outside the senior partner's office at Prendergast & Moreton, her fingers pressed to her lips. Tom had kissed her. It had happened nearly twenty-four hours ago and now seemed like a dream, but she hadn't imagined it. He'd really kissed her. And he'd given her a piece of paper with his address, phone number, and e-mail address on it.

  So what did that mean? Did he want to see her again?

  She'd driven from the car rental place to her hotel with a stupid smile on her face, a zing of excitement dancing along her nerves. But once she had time to think about his behavior, her pleasure had dissolved into confusion.

  The rest of Sunday, she'd mulled over everything he'd said and done during the drive to Plymouth. When they were at Combe Farm, he'd made it clear he didn't want a woman in his life. Had he changed his mind? Or had the kiss simply meant good-bye?

  She'd texted Connor with the question, "What does it mean if a man I've only known for two days kisses me unexpectedly?"

  He'd texted back, "That I'm going to punch his lights out."

  That exchange had been less than helpful. But in fairness to Connor, he didn't know the full facts. Although, knowing the facts didn't really help. Eve had been there and she still had no idea what was going on inside Tom's head when he kissed her.

  "Eve." Mr. Prendergast stood at his office door, the light shining on his bald head. "Good to see you survived the blizzard and made it back to the city."

  He appeared rather forbidding with his wire-rimmed glasses and thin lips, but she had always found him to be polite and fair. She actually got along rather well with him and hoped that would count in her favor. He extended his hand to indicate she should go into his office, then showed her to the comfortable leather chairs arranged around a coffee table at one side of the room.

  "Would you like a drink?"

  "A cup of coffee would be wonderful. Thank you."

  He buzzed through to his personal assistant and settled himself in a chair opposite her. "Well, Eve, you have another successful year with Prendergast & Moreton under your belt. How do you feel the new tax department performed during its second year?"

  All thoughts of Tom drifted away as Eve explained how the tax department had grown by leaps and bounds. "Not only are we busy offering advice to existing clients, but we've secured a number of new clients as well. They came to us for tax planning and were so impressed with our service that we've won their accounting business."

  "I know. The partners are pleasantly surprised. We thought the new department would simply provide additional services for existing clients. You certainly exceeded our expectations. As the tax department has proved so successful, the consensus is that it should be headed up by a partner. You've done well managing it to date, so we'd like to offer you the opportunity to continue."

  "Oh." Eve pressed a hand over her heart. This was what she'd worked so hard for ever since she passed her tax exams. But her sense of achievement was muted. If she accepted the position of partner, she was committing to spend the rest of her working life with the firm.

  "The tax department is currently based in the Bristol office. Is that set in stone?" she asked.

  "Well." Mr. Prendergast frowned. "We have ten dedicated tax staff now. To move the department would mean relocating them all and organizing new office space. It's probably not feasible."

  "That's fine. I was only thinking out loud."

  The senior partner's frown faded. "If you're happy with the offer, I'll give you the paperwork to look over this afternoon, and I'll answer any questions you have." He rose and grabbed a folder from his desk. "Once that's done, we'll call a partners' meeting to formally welcome you."

  "Actually…" After everything she had worked for, Eve could not believe she was about to say this. She closed her eyes for a moment and sucked in a breath to steady herself. "Can I think about your offer over the Christmas break?"

  Mr. Prendergast's eyes widened behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. "Of course. But if there's an unresolved issue that's troubling you, perhaps we can talk it over now."

  "I have a personal situation I'd like to consider."

  "Hence the question about relocating the office," Mr. Prendergast said flatly.

  Eve tried to smile but her face felt stiff. She should have jumped on this offer and be celebrating. That's what her boss would expect. Asking for time to think about it made her sound as though she wasn't dedicated to the firm.

  But if there was the slightest chance Tom had feelings for her, she had to find out before she committed to spending the rest of her life working so far away from him.

  Chapter Six

  "Polly, where are you, sweetheart?" Tom wandered through the house, checking rooms. At this time of day, he'd expect her to be in the sitting room watching television. He tried to limit Polly's TV watching to late afternoon and it was gone four, when her favorite programs started.

  He checked the mudroom again in case she had slipped back there after he came inside. Pickle's bottles were neatly washed up and set to dry, just as he'd shown her. But there was no sign of his daughter. He traipsed back to the kitchen to find it still empty.

  She hadn't been in her bedroom, but he checked again. As he shut the door, the first hint of panic clutched his gut. Could she be outside? The temperature had risen and the heavy rain that had fallen on Tuesday and Wednesday had banished all the snow, but it was getting dark.

  He was pacing down the hall towards the stairs, when a muffled sob pulled him up. "Polly?" The sob came again—from the spare bedroom.

  He pushed open the door to find his daughter curled up on the bed, her Barbie and glittery pink comb clutched to her chest. "Sweetheart, what are you doing in here? What's the matter?"

  "It smells of Eve," Polly whispered.

  Tom's feet stumbled to a halt at the mention of Eve's name. He'd been trying to put her out of his mind, and not succeeding at all well. Almost everywhere he went in the house reminded him of her, and at night when he tried to sleep, thoughts of Eve overwhelmed him with longing. He'd been surprised how little Polly had mentioned Eve, been grateful for it actually.

  Polly sniffed the pillow and then patted it. "Here, Daddy. This smells of her. Come and lie down here with me."

  Tom had purposely not changed the
sheets on the spare bed yet. He'd planned to do it in a week or two when time had done its work and his memories of Eve were not so sharp.

  Without making a conscious decision to move, he found himself beside the bed. He should pick his daughter up and take her to her own room.

  Polly patted the pillow again. "Sniff it, Daddy."

  This was a bad idea. He leaned down and pressed his nose into the pillow. The light floral fragrance of Eve's hair surrounded him. He was instantly transported back to the car rental place, the feel of her silky hair against his hand, her body in his arms, her soft lips beneath his. He stifled a groan that was half longing and half frustration with himself for being so stupid.

  "Lie down, Daddy."

  He climbed on the bed and stretched out beside his daughter. She cuddled up to him, and he wrapped an arm around her, hugging her close. Eve's sweet perfume surrounded them, almost as if she were there with them in spirit, a part of their family.

  How could he feel this strongly about the woman when he'd only known her for a couple of days? She had worked her way under his skin and started to make inroads into his heart. This was the last thing he wanted. Life had been simple before she turned up. Now he was confused about what he should do.

  "I want Eve to come back," Polly whispered.

  Tom rubbed his eyes. Eve had texted him on Monday evening to say she'd been offered the partnership with her firm. She wasn't likely to give up such an opportunity so she could live closer to them. "Eve's got a life of her own, pumpkin."

  "I want Eve to be my mummy."

  A band of pain tightened around Tom's chest at the yearning in his daughter's voice. He turned on his side and looked into eyes the same color as his own. "You know I love you enough for two people, Polly."

  "I know you love me, Daddy. But I still want a mummy." She laid her small palm on his cheek and patted him gently. "It doesn't mean I don't love you, Daddy. I just want a lady to do girl things with me." She held up her comb and her Barbie as if that explained everything.

  Had he been fooling himself to think he could raise his daughter alone? They'd bumped along well together, still did. He couldn't bear the thought of a woman coming into Polly's life only to walk away when she got bored with the responsibility of a little girl.