Single Dad's Christmas Miracle

by Susan Meier

  In between rounds, she glanced at Teagan who quietly colored in her fat book. After an hour or so of the game, Jack said, “Hey, Chai Tea.”

  Teagan looked over.

  “Isn’t it about time for your nap?”

  She slid off her chair just as the den door opened and Clark stepped inside. He stooped down and opened his arms. “I see somebody’s ready for a nap.”

  He scooped up the little girl, and, as he rose, he saw the video game. “I thought you’d be working.”

  “Today is our first day together,” Althea said, then added a, “Drat” when Jack killed two of her soldiers. “Anyway, we’re using this time to get to know each other.”

  Without taking his eyes off the screen, Jack said, “We’re bonding.”

  “Just don’t bond too long. I want your grades up so you don’t fall behind a semester.”

  He left the room and Jack tossed his controller to the sofa. “Let’s go.”

  Baffled, she turned, her gaze following him as he walked to the desk. “Go?”

  “To work. You heard him. He wants my grades up.”

  She rose from the sofa. “Yes. But he didn’t seem to be angry that we were getting to know each other.”

  “You should have spent some time bonding with my dad instead of me. Then you’d know that was his angry voice.”

  “That was his angry voice?”

  “Yep.”

  They went to the computer and checked out the potential programs Clark had chosen for his son. Jack participated as they scrolled through each one, but his responses were lackluster. She tried to revive some of the enthusiasm he’d shown while playing video games, and though he would smile, his heart clearly wasn’t in his studies.

  The den door opened again. Clark poked his head inside. “I ordered pizza. It should be here in a half hour or so. Jack, I’m sure Althea would appreciate the chance to clean up before we eat. So why don’t you turn everything off so she can go?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Six.”

  “Six!” It had been noon when she’d arrived, probably after one before they finished the interview and got her set up in her room. That could have made it two when she and the kids got settled in the den. Maybe three before Teagan left for her nap. That meant she and Jack had spent three hours looking at programs. She supposed that wasn’t too far-fetched.

  “Where’s Teagan?”

  “After her nap, she stayed in the office with me.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She smiled at Jack. “You and I certainly were immersed in our work.”

  He smiled. But he didn’t say anything. She glanced at Clark then back at Jack.

  He wasn’t afraid of his father. That she recognized from her own life. She knew what a frightened child looked like. But he was terribly unhappy.

  She followed Clark to the kitchen, ducked into her suite behind it to wash her hands, then joined Clark and Teagan at the table. While Jack found paper plates and napkins, Clark opened the big pizza box. The scent of tomato sauce and pepperoni invaded the air, making Althea’s stomach growl.

  “I guess this is what two days of going without food will do to you.”

  Clark gaped at her. “You really did go without food?”

  “I wanted to get here. I’d already been on the road three days. After I talked to Emily, I just wanted to keep moving so I could get here and get started.”

  “I can understand that.” He glanced back at Jack. “Hurry up, buddy, or the pizza will be cold.”

  At the easy way the term of endearment slipped from Clark’s lips, Althea frowned. He clearly loved his son. And with Teagan sitting on his lap while he cut her pizza into tiny pieces, it was also obvious that he loved his daughter. He was simply too much of an organizer. Someone who wanted everything to run like a well-oiled machine. Because everything was “working” he didn’t see anything wrong.

  But there was plenty wrong. She could see it in Jack’s eyes.

  They ate their pizza with Clark carrying on a steady stream of chitchat. When he announced he would be getting Teagan ready for bed, she asked if she could follow along.

  His face scrunched in confusion. “Why?”

  “With the housekeeper gone, it’s just good for me to know all the routines.”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Great.”

  She trailed behind him as he carried the little girl up the steps. They found her bedclothes first, then Teagan had a quick bath. She slipped into her princess nightgown and crawled under the covers.

  Althea leaned against the doorjamb as Clark retrieved a well-worn storybook from the drawer in the white bedside table that matched the white frame of her canopy bed.

  He read her a story about a bunny that had gotten lost in the woods. While most children’s eyes would droop as the story lulled them to sleep, Teagan’s eyes widened.

  Althea frowned. Why read her a story that seemed to upset her?

  But in the end the daddy rabbit found the lost bunny. He fed her soup, tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead, telling her he’d never let anything happen to her. She could always depend on him.

  Happy ending.

  Clark rose, tucked Teagan into bed, kissed her forehead and said, “I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He kissed her forehead again. “You can always depend on me.”

  Teagan smiled. Her eyelids finally lowered. She snuggled into her pillow.

  Warmth filled Althea’s soul. Using a story he had just told his daughter he’d always be there for her. A pretty smart move for a guy who obviously didn’t know how to say the words himself.

  Clark motioned to the door. Althea turned and walked out into the hall with him on her heels, and the glow in her warming every part of her body. This was definitely a family worth saving.

  But how?

  * * *

  The next morning when Althea stumbled into the kitchen, she found the quiet Beaumonts all seated on the tall stools around the center island.

  “Good morning.”

  Clark glanced up from his computer screen. “Good morning.”

  Today he wore dark trousers, white shirt and blue tie. His hair neatly combed and his brown eyes bright with enthusiasm, he was clearly happy to be getting back to his normal routine.

  Her attraction sparked to life again, but, as always with anything to do with her hormones, she ignored it. As she prepared a single cup of coffee using the directions on the side of the coffeemaker, she nodded at his laptop. “Working already?”

  “Reading the Wall Street Journal online.”

  Now why in the name of all that was holy had that sounded sexy? “Ah.”

  She ambled to the center island. Clark pointed at a plate of French toast. “Breakfast?”

  “Yeah. As soon as I have at least one cup of coffee.”

  He rose and grabbed the black suit coat from the back of his stool. “If everything’s under control here, I’m going to go into the office right now. Even with email and fax machines, we couldn’t get everything done we needed to get done last week while I was home with the kids. And we’re hopelessly behind in preparing some important government bids.”

  He shrugged into the charcoal-gray overcoat that had been flung across the unused table by the French doors.

  “You never did tell me what you do for a living.”

  “I own an engineering firm.”

  “Oh.” The way he said that sounded sexy, too, confusing her. She wasn’t the kind of woman to fall for the executive type. She had been a sucker for beach bums. Which was why she kept getting her heart broken and her bank account depleted and why she’d stopped dating.

  He motioned for her to walk him to the front door. When they were out of earshot of the kitchen he said, “My wife was the brains of the operation
. She was actually the engineer. I’m just a lowly liberal arts major who took business courses at university after we realized Carol wanted to start her own firm, and she’d need me to run it. When she died, I had to hire two people to replace her.”

  The casual, very calm way he talked about his deceased wife baffled her. Until she remembered that was sort of how Clark talked about everything. Casually. Calmly. With very little emotion.

  “I also had to learn as much about the work as I possibly could so that I could speak intelligently to clients.”

  “So you’ve had a long, difficult three years.”

  Reaching for the doorknob, he frowned. “I would think that would go without saying.”

  Yeah. She supposed he was right.

  “Anyway, I’ll be back around six. All of my contact numbers are on a sheet in the kitchen. As you probably noticed yesterday, Teagan is fine coloring or playing by herself. Do whatever you would normally do with Jack’s lessons, etc. And then spend the rest of the day however you want.”

  “You’ll bring dinner?”

  He chuckled. “Yes.”

  With a quick yank on the front door, he opened it and left.

  She took her time returning to the kitchen. He wasn’t a bad guy. Actually, he seemed like a really nice guy—a gorgeous nice guy to whom she was unexpectedly attracted. But he was an executive who’d handled his wife’s death with the cool efficiency he probably spent on the company’s tax return. He had to use a storybook to show his daughter she could depend on him.

  It wasn’t his fault that his kids were quiet, sad. Maybe even slightly lost. He handled things the way he knew how.

  But his kids were quiet and sad, and slightly lost, and she ached for them.

  In the kitchen, she glanced at Jack who wore jeans and a T-shirt then Teagan who wore little blue jeans with pink flowers embroidered on the pockets with a matching pink T-shirt. Her long dark hair had been combed, even though she didn’t have a clip or band to keep it out of her face.

  She ambled to the center island, filled a plate with two slices of French toast and sat on the stool beside Teagan.

  “Are you ready to color today?”

  The little girl yanked on Jack’s sleeve. He bent down and she whispered in his ear.

  Jack sighed. “She said yes.”

  Althea poured syrup on her toast, her heart aching for Jack again. The kid was twelve, isolated on a mountaintop—a beautiful mountaintop to be sure, but a lonely one. And a boy who should be in the ignoring-his-siblings stage had to speak for his baby sister.

  He needed some fun.

  And not just video games. Something unexpected.

  “We’re going on a field trip this morning.”

  Jack gaped at her. “Field trip?”

  “Yeah. I need a coat and boots.”

  Teagan blinked at her. Jack frowned. “You don’t have a coat?”

  “I lived in Southern California for the past ten years. The heaviest thing I have is a hoodie.”

  Jack just stared at her.

  “Come on. You’re old enough to know the geography of this country. We have all different kinds of weather.”

  “I suppose. I just don’t want my dad to be mad.”

  “He’s the one who told me to get boots.”

  She turned him toward the door. “Go get your coat and your sister’s coat. I swear we’ll have fun.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  JACK REMINDED ALTHEA that Teagan was too small to ride in a car without a safety seat, so they grabbed the extra one from the garage and installed it in her little red car.

  The whole time they worked, Althea kept glancing back at Teagan, hoping for her to speak. Clearly excited at the prospect of getting out of the house, the little girl jumped from foot to foot. Her eyes glowed. Her smile could light the garage. But she never said a word.

  As they rode down the hill, Jack chatted happily, filling her chest with the light airy feeling that comes from pleasing another person. She’d figured out he needed to get out of the house, she just hadn’t realized how badly. It was a stroke of luck that she needed a coat and boots.

  She parked in front of one of the meters, fed it enough to give them an hour for shopping and turned the kids in the direction of the town’s general store.

  In a shop stocked for winter in the mountains, she immediately found a coat and boots. The light blue jacket, black mittens and black boots she tried on not only fit, they were cute. But because she found them so quickly, their trip into town was ending too soon.

  So, wearing her new coat and boots, she herded the kids across the street, telling them she wanted to see more of the town. About halfway down, she got her second lucky break of the morning: a Santa Shop.

  There was nothing like seeing decorations, talking about gifts and sharing secret gift wishes to perk up children.

  “Why don’t we take a peek inside?”

  Jack’s face scrunched in confusion. “You want to go into a Santa Shop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we don’t decorate until Christmas Eve?”

  She took Teagan’s hand. “Well, maybe we should change that this year and do some decorating beforehand?”

  Teagan blinked up at her silently. It wasn’t much, but she suspected eye contact was a big step for Teagan.

  Jack shook his head. “If Dad hates us decorating early, I’m telling him it was all your idea.”

  “Good. Fine. Because it is my idea. And if he loves it I’ll get all the credit.”

  When they reached the shop door, Jack held it open like a perfect gentleman. The scents of cinnamon, apples and bayberry wafted out to them. Old-fashioned wooden tables held rows of toy soldiers. Model trains chugged in circles around miniature towns. Ceramic villages took up another two rows. Evergreen wreaths hung on the back walls beside bundles of tinsel.

  “I can’t afford much,” she told the kids, “but we’re four weeks away from Christmas. The least we should get today is a wreath for the door. Then we’ll come back every week and get something new.”

  Jack faced her. “You want us to pick out the wreath?”

  “Sure. It’s for your house. Your Christmas.”

  He stood in front of her, looking totally puzzled.

  “I thought you said you decorated on Christmas Eve?”

  “We do. But we only put up a tree. Dad says it’s enough.”

  “Well, sure it’s enough,” she agreed, not wanting to undermine his dad or make him look bad. “But starting today and doing a little something every week to the house, a little something to remind us that in a few weeks we’ll get presents and drink hot cocoa by the fire and eat peppermint sticks—well, that’ll just make everything extra special.”

  Jack laughed lightly. “I think you’re expecting a lot from a wreath.”

  Holding Teagan’s hand, she headed for the wreaths. “You’ll see. Maybe not this week but next week it will all start to sink in and then we’ll have Christmas spirit all over the place.”

  Following a few feet behind her, Jack laughed.

  Althea’s spirits soared. Teagan might not be talking but she was happy. And Jack was laughing. Once they got the wreath, they could go home and start his lessons.

  * * *

  Around eleven o’clock, Clark began to get antsy. He’d been so focused on how much work he’d missed because of Mrs. Alwine that he hadn’t thought through leaving the kids that morning.

  Technically, Althea wasn’t a total stranger. She was a friend of a friend. That was how she’d gotten wind of the job and why he’d agreed to interview her. Yes, he’d checked her references. But he didn’t know her. And he’d left his kids with her.

  He fished hi
s cell phone out of his jacket pocket and hit the speed dial number for his home phone. It rang the usual four times before it went to voice mail.

  He sucked in a breath. She could be in the bathroom. Or she might have turned off the ringer of the phone in the den for Jack’s studying.

  Or she could have kidnapped his kids.

  He groaned internally, telling himself not to think like that, and rummaged around on his desk for the sheet of paper with her cell phone number on it.

  When he finally found it, he punched in the digits and waited through five rings before it, too, went to voice mail.

  He tossed his cell phone to the desk, telling himself not to be paranoid. But his situation was unusual. There was a reason he lived on a secluded mountaintop. A reason he hid his kids. Even discounting the possibility that someone might kidnap them because he was a wealthy man who could pay a ransom, lots of people were curious about Teagan.

  He cursed, shot off his chair and grabbed his top coat. Walking through his assistant’s office, he said, “I’m going home,” and strode out to his SUV.

  Even wanting to get to his house as quickly as possible, he made a loop around town and headed up the mountain. As his SUV rolled to a stop in front of the garage, his chest tightened. Althea’s car was gone.

  Frantic, he flew up the porch steps and into the foyer, calling the kids’ names. No answer. Nothing but the eerie echo of his own words came back to him. Crazy clip-clopped into the foyer, nudging her nose against Clark’s hand for a pat on the top of her head.

  Clark stooped to pet the nuzzling dog, but his mind jumped back to the day he’d gotten the call about his wife. He’d come home from a business trip to a cold, empty house and had no idea where his kids were, let alone his wife. Then the phone had rung and he’d gotten the news that his wife was dead and his kids were with her parents.

  He broke out in a cold sweat.

  Cold, empty houses were never good news.

  And with a guy in town who might suspect he was Teagan’s father, a guy crazy enough to throw himself over Clark’s wife’s casket and wail—not worried about gossip or consequences—Clark couldn’t take any chances Brice Matthews would see Teagan.