Coming from a large Irish family, with four older brothers and three younger sisters, had made him extra protective of women but guarded, too. He knew what little sneaks they were most of the time. Growing up, he’d been the best big brother he knew how to be. Which in his family meant he’d been to six proms, three of them with his youngest sister, Claire, who’d explained she simply needed him to act as her date because the guys in high school were just “totally immature.” Which was a crock of crap. Claire had been trying to hook him up with her best friend Lisa Grimes since the first time Claire brought her home to meet the family her freshman year of high school. Patrick was flattered, but she was too young, and she was like a kid sister to him.
Then there was Megan, a year older than Claire. Megan was the family dreamer. She sailed through school without any problems but didn’t have much of a social life. Patrick worried about her and told her so. Shocked that he’d felt that way, she revealed that she’d been dating a college man since her sophomore year. When he’d asked why she hadn’t brought him home, Megan had clammed up. After much screaming and many threats, Megan had finally told Patrick why she hadn’t brought her boyfriend home to meet the rest of the brood. He was married. Patrick wanted to find the son of a bitch and kick his butt, but Megan refused to reveal his name. She’d made Patrick swear he wouldn’t tell their parents. He’d reluctantly agreed. Megan reminded him that she didn’t pry into his love life, and he should grant her the same respect. She’d had him on that one, but he’d always kept an extra close eye on her.
Three years after Megan graduated from high school, her married lover divorced his wife and made an honest woman out of her. Patrick didn’t care much for the guy, now a high school math teacher. He treated his sister and their three boys, Joseph, eight, Ryan, six, and Eric, who’d just celebrated his fourth birthday, extremely well. As long as Nathan continued to do so, Patrick would accept him as his brother-in-law, though not without reservations. Patrick took Megan aside once and told her if Nathan cheated on his first wife, the odds were good he’d cheat on her. They’d been married for twelve years. As far as Patrick knew, Nathan hadn’t strayed.
Finally, there was Colleen, only a year younger than Patrick. Married to her high school sweetheart as soon as she’d graduated high school, she didn’t bother with college. She’d always made it very clear to the entire family that becoming a mother was her life’s desire. And she had. Almost one year to the day after she’d married Mark Cunningham, she delivered a healthy baby girl, Shannon Margaret. Eighteen months later, Abigail Caitlin came along. Colleen couldn’t have been happier. Mark had accepted a job with Apple, and they had moved to Seattle. Their life together had been almost perfect until Shannon Margaret became ill. At seventeen, Shannon was in her senior year of high school doing all the exciting things seniors do. Mark and Colleen planned to surprise her with a bright red Hummer as a graduation gift. Shannon had been as much in love with Hummers as he was. A week before graduation, Shannon had complained about being extremely tired and short of breath. Colleen had laughed, telling Shannon her endless pre-graduation activities would wear out a triathlete. Shannon continued to complain over the next few days, but no one really paid much attention. Three nights before Shannon was due to graduate, Colleen found her in a heap on the bathroom floor, almost comatose. She’d called 911, and they’d rushed her to the hospital, where doctors were mystified until the results of her blood work came back from the lab. Shannon suffered from a rare and oftentimes deadly blood disorder, Thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura. The doctors shortened it to TTP. Her platelet count had dropped to eight thousand, and her red blood count was so low, they’d had to give her red blood cells intravenously. A hematologist was called in. He’d explained to Colleen and Mark exactly what was happening inside Shannon’s body. Something had gone wrong with her blood’s ability to clot. Patrick was so shocked when he heard she was in the ICU, he didn’t really remember the details. Suffice it to say, Shannon died on the very day she should have graduated from high school.
Patrick went through hell for several months, but it was nothing compared to what Colleen, Mark, and Abigail were still going through. No way could he ever withstand that kind of personal loss, hence his desire to stay single and kid-free. He knuckled away an unshed tear and parked the Hummer in his assigned parking place. He slid out of the driver’s seat into the bitter early-morning air and jammed his hands in his pockets. His heavy boots crunched against the slush and ice as he walked across the parking lot to the employee entrance of Snow Zone. Damn it’s cold!
Heavy snow was in the forecast for the weekend. He smiled. Fresh white powder would have skiers waiting in the lift lines for hours. The resort would be especially jam-packed that night as well. It was the night for the Christmas tree-lighting extravaganza. Patrick usually got a big kick out of it, but this year his heart wasn’t really into the holiday spirit. His thoughts always returned to Colleen and Shannon. This would be the second year without her.
His parents had retired to Florida after Shannon’s death. Claire remained in California, unmarried, a workaholic. She had a successful law firm that took up her every waking moment. She’d flown in for Shannon’s memorial service and left immediately after. The rest of the family living in Colorado had gathered at the oldest sibling’s house. Last Christmas, his four brothers, Connor, Aidan, Ronan, and Michael, all of whom had married only within the last ten years, and their wives and kids had made a halfhearted attempt at a celebration, for the sake of the kids, but none of their hearts were into the holidays either. Since they were an extremely close-knit Irish family, Shannon’s loss had devastated them all. Shannon had been the first grandchild, the first niece. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Patrick pushed all thoughts of sadness aside. There would be time for those memories later. Before opening the employee door, he scraped the ice and brown slush from his boots on the boot scraper beside the door. He could have gone in through the store’s public entrance; he had the keys and knew the security code, but he wanted to make a surprise visit. It was his way of checking up on his employees. They never knew when to expect him, kept them on their toes. Max didn’t approve of this tactic but allowed it since Patrick ran the entire operation. He’d already spied dozens of early birds waiting patiently in their heated vehicles in the parking lot. Patrick hoped Candy Lee and Stephanie were prepared for the rush.
Entering through the back door, he was greeted by the pleasing scent of coffee and a hint of cinnamon. Before Stephanie or Candy Lee saw him, he made his way up and down the aisles, inspecting the shelves piled high with sweaters, hats, scarves, and a dozen other varieties of clothing that promised to keep their wearers warm. Personally, he never hit the slopes without wearing his Hot Chillys, long johns that truly stood up to the test. He saw that the Hot Chillys display was stocked in all colors and sizes for men, women, and children. Satisfied that there was enough stock to keep the shoppers shopping, Patrick weaved his way through the narrow aisles to the front of the shop. Stephanie and Candy Lee were both sipping from forest green mugs and munching on donuts. Damn, what did they think this was? Snack time? They should be . . . working, not smiling and eating.
C’mon, Patrick, they have to eat!
He shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts of any negativity. Today called for a positive attitude. Optimism, his mother always advised, when faced with negativity. Growing up, she’d taught him and his brothers and sisters that they were the masters of their lives, and always had the power to choose between optimism or pessimism. Since Shannon’s death, more often than not, he’d chosen pessimism. Maybe it was time to turn over a new leaf? Wasn’t Christmastime considered to be a time of goodwill and charity? With his mood suddenly shifting to buoyant while he watched Stephanie laugh as she conversed with Candy Lee, he decided he would choose to be optimistic that day. And it had nothing to do with the image in front of him either. At least that’s what he wanted to believe. But deep down, he couldn’
t deny the simple joy just being in her presence gave him. He felt warm all over as he continued to watch and, yes, admire her. Any man would admire those long legs encased in tight black ski pants that accentuated every curve of her body. A moss-colored Hot Chillys thermal turtleneck clung attractively to her petite frame. She definitely had curves in all the right places. Add the warm brown eyes and hair the color of nutmeg, and Patrick couldn’t find a single thing he didn’t like about her physical appearance. Hell, he couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about her period except for the fact that she was the mother of two young daughters. Amanda and Ashley were as sweet as sugarplums, too. They’d pounced all over him when Stephanie had introduced them. They were very much in need of a father, but he was not willing to play that role.
Before he had a chance to make his presence known, Stephanie spied him lingering in the center aisle opposite the front registers.
“Patrick, I had no idea you were coming in this early. Come and have some coffee and donuts before they’re all gone. Candy Lee and I concluded that shopping makes you extremely hungry.” She smiled at him as though he were the greatest thing since sliced bread. His heart flip-flopped, then did a backward somersault.
“No thanks. I’m only here for a minute. Just wanted to make sure you were prepared for the onslaught.” Patrick crammed his hands in his pockets for fear he’d reach out to smooth the unruly curl that clung to Stephanie’s peach-colored cheek.
Stephanie placed her mug on the counter and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin covered with snowmen and reindeer. “I think we’re more than ready. Between the two of us, we should be able to handle the rush. If we get too swamped, Melanie said she would help out. She’s bringing the girls over to ski today.”
Patrick wasn’t sure how to reply, so he just nodded. Damn this woman. She made him feel like an inexperienced teenager. All clumsy and unsure of himself. He hated the loss of control.
Stephanie stared at him, the smile leaving her face. “Is that all right? If not, I can tell her to forget it. She said she would stop in before they hit the slopes.”
Patrick heard the words, but couldn’t have repeated what they were if his life depended on it.
“Patrick! Are you listening to anything she’s saying?” Candy Lee asked, her voice several octaves higher than normal.
He blinked his eyes, then shook his head. “Uh, yes, I was thinking.”
Candy Lee, never one to mince words with Patrick and always getting away with it because she was not much younger than the age Shannon would’ve been had she lived, came out from behind the counter to stand beside him. She cupped his elbow in her small hand, guiding him to a stool behind the counter. She put a small finger to his lips. She poured coffee, a large portion of Half and Half, and three scoops of sugar into a white mug decorated with Santas. She plated three donuts from the box beneath the counter. A chocolate-covered glazed, a cream-filled, and a French cruller. “Get some sugar and caffeine into your system. You sound really stupid, Patrick. And I don’t believe you were thinking either,” she added, squinting her bright blue eyes into slits.
Patrick took a sip of the hot coffee, then took a huge bite of the chocolate-covered confection. Damn, maybe Candy Lee was onto something. This was decadent, almost pure bliss. “Stupid, huh?” he said, then finished off the rest of the donut.
“Well, yes. You have that off look on your face, you know, like you’re off in another world or something,” Candy Lee explained.
Patrick took a sip of coffee, then bit into the French cruller. He finished it off in three bites before attacking the cream-filled donut. He would have to spend hours on the slopes burning off all the sugary carbs he’d just consumed. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with one of the snowmen-and-reindeer napkins placed next to the pot of coffee. “Thanks for the compliment and the calories, kid. Stephanie, if you get in a bind, call my cell number. I’ll send a Maximum Glide employee from the ski school to help out. I can’t risk Melanie’s getting hurt or injuring someone else.”
Stephanie started to speak, but before she could utter a single word, Patrick spoke up. “It’s company policy. Sorry.”
“Of course, I understand, it’s just that Melanie offered. I told her to stop by just in case.” Stephanie swatted at the hair clinging to her cheek. “I doubt we’ll need the extra help, but of course I will call you if we do.” She swallowed, lifted her chin a notch higher, and met his gaze.
Avoiding her direct stare, Patrick glanced at the display of flavored lip balm on the counter for fear he’d give his feelings away.
Feelings? He wasn’t going there. No how, no way!
Absorbed in a sudden rush of unwanted emotions, new and unwanted emotions, Patrick gave her a disparaging look. After all, she was nothing more than an employee. “I’ll expect nothing less. Maximum Glide can’t afford another costly mistake.”
Much to his surprise, she showed no reaction to his comment. She simply turned her back to him as though he’d said nothing.
He hurried toward the door without another word said. Feeling like the idiot that he was, he started to return and offer an apology, then decided against it. He didn’t want her to think he was sorry for his comment. He truly meant it. Maximum Glide was in the red. If he didn’t pull off a financial miracle this year, they would all be out of jobs.
Chapter Three
Expert at hiding her emotions, Stephanie was too stunned to reply to Patrick’s hateful comment. She’d spent years deflecting Glenn’s insults. One would’ve thought she would be used to such verbal abuse. Too stunned to cry, not to mention how humiliated she was to have Candy Lee witness her being reprimanded, she swallowed back any thought of an outburst.
She tossed her Christmas napkin in the garbage can and downed the last of her now-cold coffee before turning to Candy Lee. It was all she could do to keep from commenting on what a jerk Patrick had acted like, but she knew it was best just to forget about it. And him. He was right. Sort of. She had cost the shop loads of money last year. There was no way she would repeat that mistake again this season. With a new sense of determination, Stephanie set out to prove just how wrong he was about her. She was quite capable of working as many hours as needed to see that Snow Zone turned a profit. She didn’t care if she had to peddle their wares on the slopes.
As soon as the back door closed, alerting them to Patrick’s departure, Candy Lee voiced her opinion. “He can be such a nitwit. I don’t know why you let him talk to you like that. You need to speak up for yourself.” She sprayed window cleaner on the glass-top counters. “If he doesn’t think we’re capable of doing the work, he should tell us straight up.”
Stephanie thought he just had, but didn’t bother saying so to Candy Lee. They had a busy day ahead of them. Whining and arguing would only put them both in a negative frame of mind. She was sure this was the last thing the Christmas shoppers wanted to encounter on the busiest day of the year. They wanted holly-jolly-ho-ho-ho, and she would give them holly-jolly-ho-ho-ho no matter what.
Wanting to discourage further talk of Patrick’s behavior, Stephanie cleared her throat. “He’s just doing his job. Forget about it because I intend to this very second.”
Candy Lee shook her head. “Well, then you’re a nicer person than I am. I don’t even know why I work here; well, I need the extra cash but still . . . I was in the storage room the other day and overheard two guys that work the lifts talking about him. I guess Mr. O’Brien chewed them out after four people fell when they were getting off the lift at their checkpoints, which we all know isn’t really anyone’s fault,” Candy Lee stated as she vigorously polished the glass-topped counters. “I’m pretty good on a pair of skis myself, and I still suck ice every now and then.”
“Suck ice?” Stephanie inquired.
“Fall down, you know, suck ice,” Candy Lee informed her.
Stephanie laughed. “No, I hadn’t heard that term, but do me a favor and try not to use it in front of the girls.” They’d seen eno
ugh in their short lives. Stephanie was trying her best to make up for what they’d witnessed. She wanted to keep them innocent as long as possible.
“Sure,” Candy Lee said. “Though they’ll hear it soon enough on the slopes. Especially from the snowboarders. They always cuss and spit. It’s so gross.”
Stephanie gave a small laugh. “I’ve heard them more than once myself. I just want to keep the girls away from anything . . . off-color, at least for a while. Now”—Stephanie glanced at her watch—“let’s lower the drawbridge and prepare for battle.”
At precisely seven o’clock, Stephanie unlocked the main door, where a line of shoppers anxiously waited to spend their money. Stephanie said hello to those she knew, greeted others she didn’t, then headed to the register, where she spent the next four hours ringing up ski jackets, ski pants, mittens, hats, and ski boots. It was almost lunchtime before they had a chance to take a break. Tallying up the morning sales in her head, Stephanie figured if this was any indication of how busy the season would be, not only would she be working overtime, she’d prove just how wrong Patrick was about her ability to manage the shop and turn a profit. Plus, she’d have a bit of extra cash, even after putting the down payment on her dream house in Placerville. She would use the extra money to purchase a new bedroom set for the girls.
They’d been without the basic comforts for most of their lives, and for this reason they were appreciative of any gift they received, no matter how large or small. They were good girls, and Stephanie found herself visualizing tucking them into a brand-spanking-new white-canopied bed in their new home. Plus she couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when she announced they would be adopting one of the pups sired by Ice-D. They’d begged for a pet for the past two years, but Stephanie knew it wouldn’t be fair to the girls or an animal if she were to bring a pet home to the small garage apartment. There was barely enough room for the three of them as it was. As the girls grew older, she knew they would want and need their privacy. A new home with three bedrooms, not to mention two bathrooms, would be pure heaven for the three of them and a pet. Angry that she’d wasted so much valuable time with Glenn, Stephanie figured she had to make it up to the girls, and a home of their own would be a good place for new beginnings.
Coming Home for Christmas Page 18
