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Contents:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Epilogue
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Chapter 1
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The woman sitting next to him clung to his hand as if she were afraid he would bolt. Her eyes were closed, and her lips moved in silent conversation. Long blond hair tumbled over her shoulders and brushed against their joined fingers.
Jordan Haynes recognized the sights and smells of the hospital. He recognized that the faint blurring at the edges of his mind meant he'd been given a strong painkiller. But he didn't recognize the woman. Still, it was damn nice of her to be so concerned, whoever she was.
She dropped her head slightly, and her hair slipped onto his wrist. Cool silk, he thought, wishing he had the strength to raise his free hand and touch the pale strands. His arm felt as if it had been pinned down by an elephant, although he knew it was just weakness that made him unable to move. So instead of touching her hair, he turned his attention to her face.
She had freckles across the tops of her cheeks and on her nose. Freckles. He grimaced. Her wide mouth tilted up at the corners. Except for the mascara darkening her lashes, she didn't wear makeup. He would bet fifty bucks that her eyes were blue and that she'd been a cheerleader in high school. She looked wholesome enough to be in a milk commercial. So what was she doing in his hospital room? Her hair continued to stroke his skin. The soft, erotic touch had his mind producing fantasies his weakened body had no chance of fulfilling. At least not any time in the near future.
He tugged his hand free of her grasp. Instantly her eyes opened. Yup. Dark blue. He owed himself fifty bucks. As soon as he got out of here, he would pay up.
The woman smiled. Her pink lips parted, exposing white teeth and a smile so pleased, she might have just won the lottery.
"You're awake," she said, then took hold of his fingers again. The smile broadened. "I'm thrilled. The nurse said you were going to be fine, but I was worried. How do you feel? Any pain? Do you want some water?"
He tried to speak and realized his throat was scratchy. He coughed. Before he was done, the woman had stood up, reached for a small plastic pitcher and poured some water into a glass. She slipped one arm behind his shoulders, then raised the glass to his lips.
"Sip slowly," she said.
He obliged. When he'd finished half the cup, he nodded to indicate he was done. She set the glass on the table beside his bed, then returned to her seat. This time she clasped his hand in both of hers. Before he could extricate himself she leaned forward and pressed their joined hands against her chest.
That got his attention. While she'd been standing, he'd gathered a quick impression of curves. Awe-inspiring curves. She had the kind of breasts that made up every adolescent boy's fantasies. Right now his wrist nestled between them while the knuckle of his index finger brushed against the base of her throat. It didn't matter that her loose sweatshirt was hardly seductive. As far as he was concerned, they could spend the rest of the day in this position.
Then he noticed her blue eyes darkening with emotion, and he had the uncomfortable feeling she might be fighting tears. Dear God, anything but that.
"Who are you?" he asked gruffly.
The woman stopped blinking and smiled again. "I'm Holly Garrett." She made the announcement as if that cleared up everything.
He didn't know any Holly Garrett, although judging by the way she was staring at him – as if he'd single-handedly saved the world – she obviously knew him.
Great. Either the painkillers were doing strange things to him, or he was losing his mind.
"And?" he prompted.
She stared blankly for a moment, then laughed. He felt the vibration of the sound against the back of his hand, which was still pressed against her chest. Friendly, he thought. A charming trait in an attractive woman.
"There was a storm," she said. "You saved my cat."
The memories flooded him, and he groaned. The high winds had blown over a tree, sending it crashing through a single apartment above a detached garage. Not only had the unit been partially crushed, but the pipes had broken and flooded the place. When his men had arrived, there hadn't been much left to save. He recalled a frantic woman trying to get through a stuck door. Water had been everywhere.
The two-story structure looked as if it was about to collapse. Jordan had grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to safety. She'd been screaming about her damn cat. Like a fool he'd gone after the animal. And look what it had gotten him. He'd been back in Glenwood less than six months, and already he was in the hospital. Damn.
"You were wonderful," Holly said, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would have done if something had happened t-to…" Her voice gave out.
"Ah, yeah, well, nothing did, right?"
She sniffed. "Thank you," she murmured, and squeezed his fingers.
"Just doing my job," he muttered. And a poor job at that. He was going to take some well-deserved teasing when he went back to the station.
Judging from the throbbing in his legs and back, he wouldn't be returning to work any time soon. Everyone had seen what had happened, too. He'd found the cat and had made it safely out of the apartment, clutching the squirming furball under his coat. Once they were out on the balcony, the cat had tried to get away. Jordan had been afraid the animal would be injured by the fire trucks or lost in the crowd, so he'd hung on to the cat from hell. They'd wrestled each other, and the cat had nearly won. But in the end Jordan had prevailed and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. Unfortunately in the process he'd lost his footing on the wet wooden balcony above the garage and had fallen off the side.
In front of everyone. He swore silently.
"Anything broken?" he asked, eyeing his leg under the sheet and blanket. He couldn't tell if he was in a cast or not.
Holly shook her head. "No. I took Mistletoe to the vet, and she's just fine."
"I wasn't asking about the cat," he said dryly.
She stared at him a moment, then blushed. Color climbed from her neck to her face, covering her cheeks, then moving up to her hairline. Her mouth formed a perfect circle.
"Oh."
She glanced down, seemed to realize she was clutching his hand to her bosom and released him. "Oh, sorry. You meant your injuries. I don't have specifics. The nurse said you would be going home tomorrow, if that helps." She gave him a quick glance. "I'm sorry we were so much trouble."
The hand she'd abandoned felt cold. He missed her heat and the faint thudding of her heartbeat. Not to mention the close proximity to her impressive breasts.
"Just doing my job," he said again.
She shook her head. "No, you did more than that. One of the other fire fighters told me it was dangerous for you to go back for Mistletoe. There was some question about the structural integrity of the apartment. And now you're injured. I feel so horrible. If there's anything I can do, please tell me."
He thought about asking her to hold his hand again, but before he could form the question, the door opened and a half-dozen people poured into the room.
His younger brother, Kyle, was first. "Heard you fell off a building," Kyle said, grinning. "Anything to be a hero."
Two of his sisters-in-law pushed Kyle out of the way. Elizabeth and Rebecca rushed to his side. "How do you feel?" Elizabeth asked.
"You can stay with us," Rebecca offered. "There's plenty of room."
His third sister-in-law, Sandy, asked, "Anything broken?"
"I'm still not sure," he said, but was drowned out by his older brothers, Travis and Craig, who offered their expert medical opinions on his condition.
Austin Lucas, a friend of the family, stepped to the
other side of the bed and shook hands with him. "Glad you're going to be okay."
"Me, too," Jordan answered, then realized Holly was gone. Somehow she'd slipped out of the room as his family had entered.
He looked at the concerned group of people surrounding him. They talked to each other about his condition and argued over who was going to have him stay with them while he convalesced. The conversation washed over him, a warm, loving blanket of concern. He knew everyone in the room cared just as he cared about them. He loved them, but he wasn't always one of them. Like Austin, Jordan spent much of his life on the fringes, watching the rest of the world connect in a way he couldn't understand.
So he let them argue, because he knew in the end he would do what he wanted. He would go home and be alone, because that was the way he preferred it.
* * *
"Yes, yes, it's very macho, but I'm not impressed." Elizabeth Haynes stood with her hands on her hips. Although her husband wasn't the oldest of the Haynes brothers, Travis had been the first of them to marry, so Elizabeth was the leader of the women. Right now she was speaking for all of them, and Jordan didn't like what she was saying.
"I'm staying in my house," he said, and glared at her defiantly. The fact that he was flat on his back diluted some of his power, but he wasn't going to acknowledge that.
"Fine. Stay here. Just not alone."
He raised his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. Everything hurt. His legs, his chest, his back, even his hair. He'd stopped taking painkillers that morning. Maybe it had been a mistake.
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and took one of his hands. It reminded him of another woman who had recently done the same.
He couldn't get Holly Garrett out of his mind. As a rule he avoided romantic entanglements. This time he was tempted to break his rule. Fortunately his physical limitations prevented him from acting on impulse. With a little luck, by the time he was healed, he would have forgotten all about her. In the meantime he had to get everyone to stop treating him like an invalid.
"You have two choices," Elizabeth said. "Come home with one of us, or…"
"I'll take the 'or'," he said.
She ignored him. "Or have Louise stay here and look after you."
He scowled.
"I know," she said. "You hate Louise. No one knows why. Not even Louise. Over the years you've made your feelings about her very clear. However, you're out of options. The doctor said you have to stay in bed for two weeks. So someone has to be here to look after you. It's up to you, Jordan. Stay here with Louise or come home with one of your brothers."
Jordan turned his head toward the window. He could see bright blue sky and a few puffy clouds. Late fall in northern California could be rainy, but today the weather welcomed him home.
Stay here with Louise or go live with one of his brothers. The latter wasn't a problem. He got along with all of them. But it was only about a month until the holidays. Everyone would be busy with preparations. He would be in the way.
Louise. He swore silently. No one understood why he didn't like her. But he knew the truth. Her guilty secret. He'd carried it around with him for seventeen years. Everyone accepted her as a de facto member of the Haynes family. Everyone but Jordan. He questioned her motives for getting close to the brothers.
"Well?" Elizabeth prompted.
"You're not leaving me with much of a choice."
"That's the point."
He drew in a deep breath. He'd bought the old Victorian mansion less than two months ago. So far, he hadn't made much of a dent in restoration. Maybe he could get some work done while he was convalescing. He wouldn't be allowed back at the fire station until after the first of the year.
"I want to stay here," he said, then regretted his decision.
"If you're sure." Elizabeth leaned close and kissed his cheek. "Be nice to her, okay? She's doing you a favor."
"No problem."
She smiled. "Liar. You're going to make her life hell. I'd better go warn her." She rose and started out of the room. When she reached the doorway, she glanced back at him. "None of this would be a problem if you'd found yourself a wife."
He smiled at the familiarity of this conversation. Elizabeth was forever trying to get him married off. "I like being single."
She didn't return his smile. "That's twice you've lied to me, Jordan. It's a good thing I love you as much as I do. Maybe I'll have my husband beat some sense into you."
"I could take him."
She raised her eyebrows.
"Well, maybe not today, but by the end of the week, for sure."
She stared at him for a moment. "Maybe this is a good thing – lying flat on your back will give you time to think about your life."
"I like my life just fine."
"You've got your brothers fooled, but we females know better. You need a woman."
"I'm a wounded hero. Leave me in peace."
"You're a stubborn pain in the rear, but I still adore you. Take care of yourself and be nice to Louise."
She gave a quick wave and disappeared into the hallway. Jordan listened to the sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floor until they faded into silence. Then he was alone.
It was how he preferred to spend his life. Alone. He was used to the solitude. But for the next few days he was going to have company. Louise. Elizabeth had admonished him to be nice. He grimaced. If she knew the truth, she wouldn't be so eager to have Louise around. But Elizabeth didn't know. No one did. He wasn't sure why he'd been so diligent in guarding Louise's secret. Probably some useless sense of honor. It didn't matter that he owed her nothing or that she'd destroyed his family. He couldn't bring himself to betray her.
He heard footsteps again, but these weren't his sister-in-law's. Louise Carberry entered the room and stared at him. She was of average height with short blond hair and blue eyes. He guessed she had to be in her midforties, although she looked younger. A bright, long-sleeved fuchsia blouse hung loosely over purple pants. Louise dressed as if she were color-blind. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at him. He stared back.
The moment reminded him of wrestling with the damn cat on the landing. He'd won the battle but lost the war when he'd gone over the side of the balcony and fallen to the ground below. His gaze narrowed, and he wondered if he would end this encounter equally battered.
* * *
Holly parked her car in front of the large Victorian mansion. It was barely after six in the evening, but already it was dark. The sun set before five in the late fall. She could see the faint outline of the beautiful old house. The peaked roof, the oddly shaped windows.
Years ago this part of Glenwood had been home to the rich and powerful families who made their fortunes in timber, mining and the railroads. By the Second World War most of them had left the small community for San Francisco or Los Angeles, but their houses remained. Some had been torn down, and some had been converted to offices. A few were being restored.
Holly stared up at the building and wished she had the money to buy one herself. She would turn the downstairs into a showroom and live upstairs. She smiled. It was a lovely dream but had no basis in reality. Still, her fingers itched to feel the original wood molding and trace the shape of the stained-glass windows above the double-wide front door.
She opened the car door, collected the pink bakery box, then got out. The early evening was still. Only the faint call of a night bird disturbed the silence. She drew in a deep breath and inhaled the scent of trees and the faint hint of some distant fire. The homey scent reminded her she'd lost her home three days ago. Everything she owned had either been crushed or soaked beyond repair. At least Mistletoe was safe.
Holly clutched the bakery box firmly and started up the stairs. Store-bought cookies wouldn't begin to repay the debt she owed Fire Captain Jordan Haynes, but they were the best she could do right now. She didn't have access to a kitchen. As soon as she could afford to get a new place, she would bake something wonderful.
&n
bsp; She climbed the three stairs leading to the front porch. The wide wooden deck was bare. A single light burned by the front door. It wasn't difficult to imagine what the porch would look like in the summer with sunlight spilling onto the refinished floor. There would be a swing at one end, by the large window on her right. Maybe a white wrought-iron table- and-chair set at the other end. She could see ladies in long dresses and gentlemen in tall hats. Children would play on the lawn, their laughter a happy background noise to the adults' polite conversation.
"You are the most stubborn man it's ever been my misfortune to know."
The loud voice startled Holly, and she jumped back. She stared at the front door. She'd been about to knock, but obviously this wasn't a good time.
A low male voice rumbled, answering the woman's claim, but Holly couldn't make out the words.
"If I didn't care about the rest of your family, I'd leave you here to starve," the woman continued. "It would serve you right, too. Even my Alfred, God rest his soul, wasn't this fussy about his food."
More male rumbling.
"Fine. Be insulted. You don't like anything else about me, why should I be surprised that you resent being compared to a dog? Oh, and Alfred was better looking than you, too."
Before Holly could step back, the front door flew open. A woman stood in the doorway and stared at her. "I thought I heard a car pull up."
Holly didn't know what to do. She was poised awkwardly on the porch, with one foot behind her as she tried to make her escape.
"I…" she said, then paused. "I've come to see Captain Haynes, but I'll come back. This obviously isn't a good time."
The woman grimaced. "There's never a good time with that one. He's the most stubborn, pigheaded, difficult man I've ever met." She paused and shook her head. "Why you'd want to see him is beyond me, but you might as well come in. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. Oh, by the way, I'm Louise."
She held the door open. Holly forced herself to walk forward. Once in the house, she shifted her weight from foot to foot and stared at her hostess.
HOLLY AND MISTLETOE Page 1
