by Donna Alward
He ordered coffee and Maddy added honey to her tea while he waited for his order. To her surprise, he came over to her and put down a plate with two pastries on it before reaching for the cream to add to his coffee.
“Don’t say it,” he said before she could even open her mouth. “My mom and dad left a few days ago for their trip and there’s no baking in the house.”
“Let me guess. Chronic sweet tooth?”
He stirred his coffee, dropped the stir stick in the trash and picked up both mug and plate. “Yeah. I think I’m spoiled probably, because my mom always keeps the kitchen well stocked for us.”
“Hungry boys working the ranch need good home cooking.”
“Yep.” He grinned. “And my mom’s is the best.”
They found seats not too far from the window. Maddy looked around. The Christmas decorations were up, with boughs and pretty white lights draped around the dark wood rails and beams. Someone had sprayed fake snow on the corners of the windows, and a huge poinsettia was on a small table in the corner. Some sort of new-agey Christmas music played on the speakers, with a bluesy-sounding saxophone and a reassuring bass line. Maddy took a sip of her tea—delicious—and let her stress levels drop another notch.
“See?” he said, pushing the plate toward her and handing her one of the forks. “Time out for Maddy.”
She laughed a bit. “I’ve been so cranky lately that you’re probably doing a public service,” she joked. Sort of joked, anyway. All work and no play and all that...
“Aw, darn, you saw right through me,” he quipped, cutting a huge corner of the pastry with the edge of his fork. “Of course not. I just realized last week at the library that you really had your hands full. It got me thinking, that’s all.”
Again she got the weird swirly sensation at the idea of Cole thinking about her.
“Well, whatever the reason, thank you. This is delicious.”
“That’s better. And you’re welcome.”
She took a bite of turnover and closed her eyes. The pastry was light and flaky and beautifully buttery. “This is going to ruin my supper, and I don’t even care,” she said, licking the caramelly residue on the fork.
“I’d say mine, too, but it’s Tanner’s night to cook. If he’s home. I’ll probably end up making myself a sandwich or something later tonight.”
“Your mom really does spoil you.” She met his gaze again and grinned.
“And I let her, so I’m as bad as she is.” He smiled, too. “Honestly, there are some pros to still living at home. And it doesn’t make sense to pay for two households when there’s more than enough room. But yeah, I’m a thirty-three-year-old man living with his parents. Whoo-ee, look at me.”
Maddy wondered why he’d never married, but she sure as shootin’ wasn’t going to ask. It was none of her business, and she didn’t like it when people pried into her personal life. Besides, Cole was hardly the stereotypical live-at-home type. The Hudson ranch was solid, respected in the town and state, with a reputation for quality stock and fair dealing. Definitely a family operation.
Before she could reply, he continued, “Of course, there are some disadvantages, too. Like no privacy. And it can be a little tough on the ego.”
“You’ve got big shoulders,” she said, cutting off another bite of pastry. “You can handle it. If I remember right from our school days, you always seemed to handle just about anything.”
He’d had a reputation then of being solid, stable, smart. Reliable. The girls all swooned over him, he was well liked in general and he’d never gotten into any trouble, to her recollection. His brother, on the other hand...
“Wow. Maybe I should check my back to see if I’ve sprouted wings.”
“Naw, you could just take out another hanky and polish your halo.”
He laughed again. “How is your head, anyway?”
She touched the spot gingerly. “Tender, but not bad. Just a teensy goose egg.”
“Good.”
They each drank again and then Maddy put down her cup and pushed the plate aside. “So, you said you wanted to ask me something about the festival. What can I do to help? I know I haven’t been much help on the committee.”
Cole nodded. “Well, we’re looking for volunteers. I don’t know what your plans are with regard to the boys, but I thought I’d mention a few things. If it’s too hard on your schedule, maybe you could suggest someone.”
“Okay.”
“First up is the night of the tree lighting. We’re planning a food drive and need someone to just keep things organized at the collection site. When it’s over, I’ve offered my truck to load up the food, and I’ll deliver it the following day.”
Maddy thought for a minute. “I’m going to take the twins, but I know my parents always go to it, too. I’ll double-check with them to make sure they can watch the boys.”
“That’s great. The volunteers are all parking in the side lot at the fire station to free up room for attendees.”
Maddy really wished she’d been able to sit in on the meetings. “That’s a good idea. It’s so close but will help with congestion.”
“It was Mike Palmer’s idea.” Mike was part of the fire department and sat on just about every committee in Gibson. Maddy wasn’t surprised.
“Your name came up when we were discussing another event, too.” He finished his coffee and put the empty mug down on the table. “The Duggans have offered a wagon and horse team to do a sleigh ride on the walking pathway.”
“A sleigh ride with wheels?” She smiled a little, and despite her earlier Scrooginess, she was intrigued.
“If we get a big dump of snow, Duke says they can drive the team down Main Street instead. So far there’s only about an inch on the path. The idea is to leave from the library, go past the bridge down to the park, turn around and come back, and then have hot cocoa and cookies and story time inside. You’re good with kids. Are you up for a sleigh ride and storytelling?”
It sounded magical. Maybe too magical. Still, the idea of bundling up the boys and taking them on a wagon ride with jingling bells and carols...maybe she couldn’t have piles of presents under the tree, but they could still enjoy the season.
“Someone would have to stay at the library to make the cocoa and set out the cookies.”
“Pauline’s offered to do that. She has it all planned out. Sleigh ride at two, cocoa at two forty-five, story at three.”
Maddy smiled again. “She is always so organized. She’s a good chair for this event.”
“I hear you’re the one who did up the proposal last year,” Cole said, his voice a bit softer. “You planned to be on the committee, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” She looked up at him. “Hey, if I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that sometimes things don’t work out exactly as you planned.”
“I’m really sorry about that, Maddy.”
“Me, too. It is what it is.”
Cole hesitated, but she could tell he wanted to say something. “What is it?” she asked. “You might as well say it. You won’t hurt my feelings. I’m past that.”
His gorgeous blue eyes held hers. “I was just wondering how you’re managing, that’s all. It’s none of my business, I know that.” He raised his hand as if to say, tell me to back off if I’m overstepping. “It’s just... I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Well, I do, but I know how you feel about pity and charity.”
Embarrassment slithered through her stomach, crept up her chest and neck in the form of a blush. “We’re getting by, so don’t worry about that. In the new year I’m going to sit down and make some decisions, I think. But we’re not cold and we’re not starving, Cole. There are others out there a lot worse off than we are.” Who was she to complain? Her children had clothes and food and love and a roof over their heads. More than
anything, Maddy had learned that the rest was just gravy. Window dressing. She knew she needed to spend a lot more time being thankful and less time being bitter.
“Maybe you could use some extra cash for Christmas?”
“What do you mean?” She frowned. “I considered looking for some extra retail shifts in town for a few weeks, just during the busy time. But by the time I factored in child care...it didn’t seem worth it.”
“What if you could take the boys with you and didn’t have to pay for day care?”
She laughed. “What employer would go along with that?”
He leveled his gaze at her. “I would.”
“You?”
The idea of working for Cole Hudson was so strange and, frankly, made her stomach flip over nervously. “Cole, if this is some make-work project to, I don’t know, make you feel good or something...”
Something flitted through his eyes, but then she wondered if she’d imagined it, it was gone so fast. “It’s not,” he assured her. “Tanner and I are on our own until the twenty-third. I’m a terrible cook and Tanner’s unreliable, frankly. I can’t eat fried steak every night for three weeks. I was thinking that I’d like to hire someone just until then, to come in and do some cooking and light cleaning every other day or so. Without Dad, Tanner and I are putting in some extra hours. Not having to do the wash or make dinner at night would be awesome.”
“You want a housekeeper.”
“I just thought, since you’re part-time at the library, and with Christmas coming up, it might work out well for you. I’ll pay ten bucks an hour, for four hours every other day.”
The annoying thing was that he was right and the temptation of the money was great. Still, it was a pity job, wasn’t it? And that grated.
She wasn’t sure she had room for pride right now. Forty dollars a day times, what, eight days? That was three hundred and twenty dollars. She could buy the boys’ presents for sure, and have leftover to catch up on bills. How could she say no to that?
He tapped her hand, bringing her attention back. “Hey,” he said. “I can probably hire a student who’s home for Christmas to do it. But I thought of you. And you can bring the boys with you. I don’t mind.”
“You’d want me to tidy up, do laundry, do some cooking?”
“That’s it. It would be helping us out a lot, and maybe giving you some fun money at the same time. Win-win.”
“I never saw myself as a housekeeper,” she muttered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m not too proud for it. I just...well, damn, Cole. My life has just done a one eighty in the last few months. It’s like I hardly recognize it anymore.”
Cole put his hand over hers. “It’s okay. When something so unexpected happens, so life altering, it takes a good while to adjust to a new normal.”
The knot of tension eased inside her. His hand felt warm and strong over hers, and his words were exactly what she needed to hear. Rather than looking at her life as a chaotic mess, it was a search for a new normal. She’d get there. She just had to be patient.
“When would you want me to start?”
He laughed. “Tomorrow? Three days and I’m already sick of Tanner’s cooking and the laundry’s piling up.”
She checked her watch, realizing that time had flown and she truly did have to pick up the boys soon. “Would mornings be okay? I usually work afternoons at the library, and on my days off I’d still be able to get the boys home for a good afternoon nap. You have no idea how much that helps their temperament.”
“Mornings are fine. I’ll leave the front door open, but I’ll try to be in around...nine? I’ll show you around, get you set up. Then you’re done by one.”
“Sounds good.” She pushed out her chair and reached for her coat. “I really should get going, though. The day care gets miffed if parents are late. But thank you for the tea. You were right. It was nice to just get out and sit for an hour or so.”
“It was my pleasure. And thanks for helping me out.” He stood and took his jacket off the back of his chair. In moments they were bundled up against the cold and headed for the door.
To her surprise, he walked her back to her car, too. The snow had started, just light flakes drifting lazily, and Maddy hoped they didn’t get much. She had to drive out to Cole’s in the morning, and without winter tires. Maybe the first thing she should do with Cole’s money was have them installed.
He shut her door for her and waited until she’d started the car before stepping back. Maybe she should feel crowded or patronized by his behavior this afternoon. But she didn’t.
She felt cared for and protected. Which was silly. It was a few hours of work, and a request for volunteering, and a cup of tea. And she was fully capable of looking after herself.
But it was the fact that he’d looked at her—really at her—that had made the difference. And she didn’t think he’d simply seen Maddy Wallace, charity case.
If nothing else, she was extremely grateful for that.
Chapter Three
Cole knew he shouldn’t be nervous.
So why was his gut a tangle of knots? He’d come to the house at eight thirty, after the first of the morning chores were done, and he’d washed up, combed his hair—twice—and considered changing his shirt.
It was just Maddy. He’d known her his whole life. And this was just his way of helping her out over the holidays. It was funny, he realized, that the whole committee for Snowflake Days talked about helping the less fortunate at Christmas but Maddy’s name hadn’t come up once. It didn’t take a genius to do the math. Unless Gavin had left her a hefty life-insurance policy—which Cole doubted he had—part-time hours at a small municipal library wouldn’t house and feed a family of three. Plus day care. Maddy had to be struggling, and far more than she let on.
She wouldn’t accept help, so offering her work was really the only solution. He didn’t even really need it. He knew how to run a washing machine and a vacuum perfectly well. And he wasn’t the greatest cook, but he could bake a potato, make a chicken breast, heat some vegetables in the microwave. Hell, last night he’d gone into the market and picked up one of those rotisserie chicken meals for fifteen dollars and it had done him and Tanner for supper and there were still leftovers in the fridge.
He wasn’t as inept as he’d led her to believe, but she didn’t need to know that.
Movement out the front window caught his attention and he looked closer, saw her car crawling carefully up the drive. Fool woman still had her summer tires on, and it was December. With the three inches of snow that had fallen last night, the road probably had tricky spots.
Cole ran his hand over his hair once more before reaching for the doorknob. He swung it open just as she climbed the steps, carrying a diaper bag and playpen in her arms.
“Thanks!” she huffed out, putting them down just inside the kitchen. “Just a sec. I’ll get the boys.”
Her head disappeared inside the car again, and when she withdrew she had a boy on each arm. At least it looked like the boys—the snowsuits in blue and red were so puffy that Cole could hardly see the babies inside.
It occurred to him that she must have really great biceps, and he grinned at the thought.
“Here, let me take one of them,” he offered as she climbed the steps. She leaned to one side, handing him one of the boys—he couldn’t tell which one. Once inside she sat her cargo on the floor and began the process of pulling off boots and unzipping snowsuits. Cole hadn’t done such a thing ever in his life, but he followed her lead, and before too long two identical boys stood before them dressed in little jogging suits with crooked socks and staticky hair, a pile of winter gear at their feet.
“How do you tell them apart?” Cole asked. “I mean, as their mom, you must just know or something. But...well, how do I tell the difference?”
“Making it hard for you to get anything done.” Cole chuckled. “I get it.” He looked directly at the boys and nodded. “Hi, Luke. Hi, Liam.”
They both stared at him with owl eyes, but one raised a hand and opened and shut his fingers in a sort of wave. The other popped his thumb in his mouth.
“So this one is Luke,” he said, pointing at the waver, “and the other is Liam.”
“Bingo. Let me set up the playpen and get them into a confined space, and then you can show me where things are.”
It seemed to take no time at all and she had the playpen set up. A few solid jerks and snaps and it popped into a square. Without any fuss she deposited the boys inside, added a handful of soft toys from the bag she’d brought, gathered up their outerwear and stowed it neatly on a bench by the door, and was ready to go.
“Are you sure they’ll be okay there?” Cole was skeptical. It seemed like such a small space, after all.
But Maddy nodded. “I’m sure. Until they’re not, and I’ll deal with that when we get there.” She smiled at him. “Okay. Give me the nickel tour.”
He led her through the house, showing her the upstairs first, where the bedrooms and bathrooms were. “The washer and dryer are in the mudroom off the garage,” he said. “Tanner and I put our dirty laundry there this morning, but normally we keep it in a clothes hamper in our rooms.”
On the way downstairs he added, “Mom keeps her cleaning supplies in the laundry room, too, in a carry basket. You should be able to find everything you need there.”
“Sounds fine,” she said, following behind him.
