A Firefighter's Christmas Gift (Holidays in Heart Falls Book 1)

by Vivian Arend

  Just wondering.

  When he finally fell asleep, he was too restless to sleep well, which meant when he woke at six as usual, Brad stumbled into the kitchen to get the coffeemaker going, jerking to a stop when he realized the pot was full. And hot.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Brad turned slowly, blinking to wake up. Hanna stiffened where she sat at the table, her eyes sweeping over him as fiery-red bloomed in her cheeks. She got stuck staring at his waist, and that’s when he realized that, like most mornings, he wore nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms.

  The fact she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze off his body did something good for his ego.

  But when other parts of him began to react, he stepped carefully behind the counter and offered a wave. “Sorry. Forgot.”

  “Coffee first, engage brain second?” She lifted her gaze to his eyes, and while she was still blushing furiously, she was smiling. She outright snickered when he picked up his empty cup and tried to take a sip. “Umm, Brad? You take anything with your cup of air?”

  He glared at her without wanting to glare. Her lips simply curled up harder.

  He folded his arms over his chest, lowering his voice to a growl. “Perky morning person. Damn. I rescind the invitation.”

  Hanna laughed. The pure bright sound broke over the kitchen and delighted him nearly as much as the fact that her eyes were once again dipping over his body in appreciation. She seemed to like his biceps.

  He liked that she liked his biceps.

  He pointed over his shoulder as she rose to her feet. “I’ll get a shirt.”

  “I’ll pour your coffee. Black?”

  “Triple, triple,” he admitted.

  “Got it.” She got busy at the counter, and he strode back to the hallway, but a glance over his shoulder said she was sneaking a peek at his backside as he left the room.

  Brad could put up with her being a morning person.

  5

  Hanna stirred a third spoonful of sugar into Brad’s coffee and wondered if she’d stepped into a trap.

  Probably, but she wasn’t truly upset about it, either. She should be. She knew too well how following her instincts could end up being life-changing and devastating, but another part of her insisted this wasn’t the same thing.

  When she’d been fifteen and drawn toward a certain boy, it had been enough that the attraction was there. Acting on the fledgling arousal had been a kind of rite of passage. Only in her case it had gone too far. Those fumbled attempts at intimacy had been interesting but not much more.

  What that first experimentation had accomplished was to get her pregnant, but even that wouldn’t have been a complete disaster if her partner had proven to be slightly more mature.

  But he hadn’t, and now here she was with an eight-year-old daughter, which made sexual attraction something she was very aware of and yet hesitant to act on.

  Brad’s not Jamie, her mind told her, and she knew that. But knowledge didn’t make the water look any less scary to jump into. She had no idea how deep the pool would go.

  Crissy was sleeping in, which was probably a good thing after a couple of mixed-up, messed-up days. Something clattered in the hallway, and she braced herself and put on a smile only to find it was Patrick entering the room.

  He took one look at her and chuckled softly. “Ms. Lane. You’re going to have to stop being so skittish, or you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

  She poured a cup of coffee and held it toward him. “Not so much skittish as wanting to stay out of your way as much as possible.”

  Patrick settled into what was obviously his chair at the table, wrapping his fingers around the cup she gave him. “Well, that’s a bunch of bull if I ever heard it. Excuse the language.”

  He glanced over his shoulder as if looking for Crissy.

  Hanna returned to where she’d been sitting before Brad had interrupted her. “She’s sleeping in. Which I don’t expect to happen very often, so don’t get your hopes up.”

  “We’re usually early risers around here. Brad can be off at all times of the day and night, as well as the hours he spends at the office. Me, I’m more into puttering around.” He offered her a slow nod. “I’m looking forward to you and the little missy being with us. It’s a big place for an old man to ramble in by himself, and no matter how much volunteer work I do, there are a lot of empty hours in the day.”

  She heard noise from the hallway again. This time it was Brad, moving to the counter to pick up the cup she’d left for him. He drank deeply before shifting to the table and settling without a word.

  His father snorted in amusement. “Ray of sunshine, aren’t you, son?”

  Brad just lifted a brow and went back to drinking.

  She shouldn’t have been so amused, but the level of comfort between the two men was solid, as if this teasing had started years ago and would continue for a long time into the future.

  Hanna deliberately put her attention on Patrick as he gestured broadly, but she was utterly aware of the big firefighter’s presence.

  “Once the little miss is awake, Brad, I thought you could take the sled out and fetch a tree,” Patrick said easily. “I’ve been putting off decorating because it’s a big house and there’s not much use when it’s just the two of us. But since she’s here, we’d better brighten the place up.”

  It would be easy to protest that was too much work. The sheer happiness on Patrick’s face, though, and the way Brad snuck a glance at her, as if reminding her of his comment to try to make the holiday season special—

  “Crissy will be over the moon if she gets to ride in a horse-drawn sled.” Hanna took a deep breath and nodded her approval at Patrick. “To tell the truth, the idea makes me happy too. It’s been a long time since I got to ride in a sleigh.”

  “You’ve been for a ride before?”

  Brad’s voice was sleep rough, and deep enough to send goosebumps racing over her skin, but she sat politely and pretended that it was just a little cold in the room. “We used to have sleigh rides at home when I was growing up.” And that was enough of that memory. She forced a smile and thought of more recent times. “I think the second year we were here in Heart Falls, the community centre had sleigh rides on Boxing Day. That was around the soccer field. It was fun, but it wasn’t quite the same as riding over foothills and through the trees.”

  Brad was watching her, his blue eyes intent as if he had questions he was holding back. She appreciated his restraint because there were certain topics she had no interest in getting into.

  The past was the past.

  Conversation continued, and Patrick got up and began pulling out frying pans. Crissy wandered into the room, a sleepy-eyed girl, blinking hard as she stumbled over to Hanna’s side and crawled into her lap, laying her head against Hanna’s chest as she slowly woke up.

  “I think you found a very comfortable bed,” Hanna teased.

  Her daughter was tired enough to answer as if it was a real question. “Yes, only there was a scratchy pillow. I put it on the floor.” Crissy lowered her voice to a whisper. “And then I used Pooh Bear as a pillow.”

  “That was smart,” Hanna told her. “We’ll go through later to make sure the scratchy pillow is fixed, but you need to be waking up so we can go get a Christmas tree.”

  Her words were the equivalent of feeding someone three cups of coffee. Crissy sat upright, winking rapidly to chase away the sleep still working through her system. “Christmas tree?”

  “After breakfast,” Hanna warned.

  “That’s right. We’ll finish some pancakes then head out to find the perfect Christmas tree. You think you can help with that?” Patrick asked from beside the stove where he was flipping something that smelled delicious.

  Crissy tilted her head. “Help with eating pancakes, or finding a Christmas tree?”

  A low rumble of amusement carried from across the table as Brad woke up a little more. “Hopefully both.”

  It appeared Crissy was m
ore than capable of demolishing a stack of pancakes, after which she hurried to pull on a couple of layers of borrowed clothes.

  Hanna finished helping Brad load the dishwasher before moving off to see what she had to wear. Patrick greeted them at the mudroom door to cover them with extra layers of sheepskin-lined work jackets, and warm toques for their heads.

  Brad came in from harnessing the horses in time to help Crissy stick her hands into an oversized pair of mitts.

  Crissy laughed, holding her palms in the sky. “I look like a snowman,” she said.

  Brad turned to Hanna, pulling another pair of gloves off the shelf far above her head. He held them open, and she slid her hand in, very aware as his fingers brushed her wrists.

  He stood from where he’d been stooped slightly, gaze firmly on hers before he broke the connection and offered Crissy a hand. “Come on. You can ride up front with me and help guide the horses.”

  It was too easy to follow, content to watch her daughter’s delight as Brad lifted her onto the front seat of the small sleigh.

  Only when he turned back to help lift her as well, she backed away, glancing to see where Patrick was. “I thought your father was coming with us.”

  Brad shook his head. “He’ll help us unload the tree, but I was kind of surprised he even suggested it. With his legs, the deep snow is unmanageable. Still, going to cut down the tree was a tradition for him and mom.”

  Hanna peeked back at the house. Through the living room window Patrick was visible, resting in the easy chair, staring into space as he rocked.

  “He’s okay,” Brad assured her. “We talked while I was harnessing the horses. He just wants a little time.”

  Then before she could protest, he wrapped his hands around her and lifted her onto the seat as well, his strong grip sending shivers over her.

  He walked around the horses to get to the other side, the sleigh rocking with his weight as he settled. Crissy sat between them, eyes wide with delight.

  “Ready to find a tree for Mr. Patrick?” Brad asked her.

  Crissy nodded. “We’ll find the best tree ever.”

  He snapped the reins. The two horses shook their heads and took a step forward, the bells on their harnesses ringing with a happy sound as they moved out of the yard and up the rolling hills behind the homestead.

  The morning was crisp and cold, and Brad took them as straight as possible to the section of spruce along the powerline. These were trees that had to be cut down on a regular basis anyway, and as he guided the horses along the track, Crissy quivered and shook and pointed excitedly to one tree after another.

  “That one looks like it has three arms and it’s reaching around to scratch its back. And look, Mommy. That one has a top hat like Frosty the Snowman.”

  “It does have a top hat,” Hanna agreed. “But I don’t think that would make a very good tree to take inside the house.”

  “No, we need one that’s pretty for Mr. Patrick. He said he would read me some Christmas stories once the tree is set up.” She turned and laid her hands on Brad’s arm to tell him sadly, “All my books got burnt up, didn’t they?”

  It was the first time she’d spoken of the fire that he’d heard. “I’m sorry, they did. Maybe you should make a list of your favourite books, and we’ll see if we can find them again.”

  Crissy leaned her head on Hanna, suddenly quiet.

  Hanna put an arm around her and squeezed tight, a soft sigh escaping before she leaned down and pressed a kiss to her little girl’s head. “I think we’re getting close to finding that perfect tree. Do you think we need to sneak up on it? So it doesn’t run away?”

  Little-girl laughter came softer than it had before, but Crissy still smiled. “Trees don’t run away.”

  “Neither do snowmen, but in a story anything can happen,” Brad pointed out, glancing down to find Crissy looking up at him with wide eyes. “I think that once upon a time all the Christmas trees used to run away.”

  Silence fell as he made up a story right on the spot, lowering his voice and raising it during the dramatic moments until he had Crissy laughing again.

  She pointed with delight at the tree he thought was probably the one they should take down this year anyway. “There it is.” Excitement vibrated through her. “There’s our tree, just waiting for us.”

  As he stopped near their target, Hanna was eyeing him with something far different than he remembered seeing before.

  Oh, they’d only dated those few times, but to tell the truth, he’d been watching her for a lot longer than that. She had soft faces, and tired expressions, and gentle laughter when she was with her friends.

  Right now? The way she was looking at him made his gut tighten in a whole new way. It looked as if she was fascinated. And it wasn’t just lust—although as she realized he was staring back, her cheeks flushed.

  She hurriedly climbed from the sled.

  Crissy danced in the snow, pounding paths in circles as he got out the axe and cut down the tree. Hanna chased her daughter, laughter rising from them both.

  “Mr. Brad. You have to play with the fairies,” Crissy reminded him.

  He tucked the axe back safely under the seat on the sleigh before raising his arms, growling as if he were a bear.

  Hanna laughed as Crissy put her hands to her face and let out a scream, turning to run away as Brad chased her. He scooped her up in one arm and kept going, circling around and aiming straight at Hanna.

  Her laughter faded, and her eyes widened as he caught her up with his other arm then twirled the three of them in a circle before crashing into the nearest snow bank.

  Brad made sure he landed at the bottom, working carefully to protect them. It meant Crissy landed to one side, a cloud of powder flying upward before settling on Hanna’s back.

  Hanna, however, had landed directly on top of him. Her slight weight barely pinned him down, but there was most definitely direct contact with the entire length of her body over his.

  With her next breath Crissy demanded, “Snow angels,” before popping up, moving a couple of paces away then throwing herself onto the snow again.

  Hanna was still on top of Brad, her arms moving slowly so she could press her palms to his chest. She cautiously adjusted her legs, which he really appreciated, considering she had a knee directly over sensitive territory.

  The arm he’d wrapped around her—he wanted to use it to squeeze her tighter. To hold her as he reversed their positions and rolled her under his body. To bring up his other hand and catch the back of her neck and tug her rosy lips within kissing distance.

  What he did was let her go.

  “Oops-a-daisy,” Crissy sang, coming back to their rescue. “Are we going to take the tree back now?”

  Brad curled up to a seated position, lifting Hanna as he moved, sliding to his feet and gingerly brushing the snow off his jeans. He moved cautiously because that quick second of contact between him and Hanna had been enough to ignite his body. “One more stop then we’ll be on the way home.”

  Hanna wasn’t looking at him, but she was smiling, and her cheeks were flushed from what he was sure was more than just cold.

  He loaded the tree then lifted Crissy back into the seat, the little girl chattering away about the perfect Christmas tree resting on the sleigh behind them. He turned to give Hanna a hand up.

  She scrambled past him, placing her foot on the runner and crawling onto the seat. Twirling to face him, satisfaction was written all over her expression at having gotten there ahead of him. Brad chuckled and took his place, letting Crissy help guide the horses.

  He pulled to a stop outside the old settler’s cabin on the top of the ridge.

  “Santa’s house.” Crissy nodded knowingly.

  It did look like something out of a postcard, with a thick layer of snow on the eaves and front porch railings. “I’m sure he uses it sometimes when he wants a break, which is why we have to take a peek to make sure it’s got everything he needs.”

  The
place didn’t get used much these days except as an emergency shelter, but with a cold snap predicted over the holidays, Brad wouldn’t leave anything to chance. He got down and moved toward the cabin, smiling as a hand slipped into his.

  “Does Santa really live here?” Crissy asked in a little-girl whisper, the kind that ended up nearly full volume.

  Brad shook his head as he reached for the door and pushed the latch open. “No. Santa lives at the North Pole. But when he’s out and about, he needs safe places to stay.”

  “Or the elves,” Crissy pointed out.

  Hanna followed them in, the cold in the cabin sharp. Faint light shone through the tiny windows. “Emergency shelter?”

  Brad met her eyes. “Yes. Anyone who needs it. In fact, if you wanted to stay here you’d be welcome, but it’s a bit far to get to school for Crissy.”

  The little girl was exploring the far side of the cabin. Brad went through his checklist quickly to make sure the emergency supplies were in place and nothing had been torn apart by animals sneaking in.

  Hanna looked over the place with a strange expression. Kind of happy and sad. “It’s cozy.”

  He was about to answer when laughter spilled from the other side of the room. He and Hanna turned to face Crissy who was pointing at them. Or more specifically, pointing over their heads. Delight bubbled from her as she covered her mouth with a hand.

  He and Hanna exchanged glances then tilted their heads back. Directly overhead was a batch of smooth-edged green leaves with shiny white berries, tied with a red ribbon.

  “Santa left some mistletoe,” Crissy said with great authority. “I saw a story about it in school. That means you have to give Mr. Brad a kiss, Mommy.”

  A soft sound escaped Hanna as Brad’s heart began to pound.

  “What kind of books are you reading?” Hanna asked under her breath.

  Pretty good books, as far as he was concerned.

  He fought to keep his expression neutral as Hanna turned to him. The faint light shining in the windows landed on her face and made the worry in her eyes clear.