HOLLY AND MISTLETOE

by Susan Mallery

  "You had the test to determine gender?" Holly asked.

  Craig and his wife exchanged a glance. "Not exactly," Jill said. "It's sort of a family thing."

  "There hadn't been a girl born to the Haynes family in four generations," Craig said. "I'm one of four brothers, my father is one of six and so on. We figured we couldn't have girls."

  Rebecca brushed her long dark hair off her shoulder and smiled. "Then Travis married Elizabeth, and they had a girl. Everyone was stunned. Next Kyle and Sandy had a daughter. Jordan is the one who came up with the theory."

  "What theory?" Holly asked.

  Jill sighed. "It's very romantic. Haynes men have a daughter when they're in love. If they're not, they just have boys."

  "So if you want to have a boy, you have to have a fight first?" Holly asked.

  Craig chuckled. "I don't think that would work. We'd still be in love. So Jill's convinced it's a girl. So far, the ultrasound is proving the theory correct. I guess we'll find out in May."

  "Not being married to one of the Haynes brothers," Rebecca said, "I'm free to have a child of either gender."

  Holly wondered if the theory was true. But that didn't make sense. There were four brothers. Did that mean their father had never loved their mother? She thought about asking, then figured this wasn't the time. Maybe later she would discuss it with Jordan.

  Craig and Jill had completed their shopping. Holly rang up their purchases, then wrapped everything. Craig collected the packages.

  "Louise has our phone number," he said. "Call us if you need anything."

  Jill gave her a quick hug, then laughed when Holly bent to avoid her belly. "I know, I'm getting bigger every day. I'm so pleased Jordan's found you."

  Holly didn't know what to say. She walked to the front door and held it open. When they were gone, she turned and saw Rebecca leaning on the counter staring at her.

  "Is something wrong?" Holly asked, touching a hand to her hair and hoping she hadn't smudged her cheek.

  "No. Everything is exactly right. I had wondered what it was about you that Jordan liked. Now I understand."

  Holly felt herself flush. She glanced around the store and was relieved when she realized most of the customers had left. There were a few browsing in the other rooms but she and Rebecca were the only people up front.

  "He doesn't exactly like me." Hmm, that wasn't right. "What I mean is we're just friends. I'm staying with him to help him fix the house."

  Rebecca raised her eyebrows. "So you are living together. Elizabeth told me you were, but I didn't believe her. Imagine Jordan letting a woman into his house."

  "But it's not like that."

  "Then why are you blushing?"

  "Because I—" Holly clamped her mouth shut. She was only making it worse.

  Rebecca shook her head. "I'm teasing you, Holly, and I shouldn't. I was just as tongue-tied when I was first around Austin. There's something about the men they grow here. I wish I could tell you it gets better, but it doesn't. Austin still has the power to make me feel clumsy and foolish, but he's too sweet to use it. Instead, he makes me feel beautiful and loved."

  The sharp jab of envy returned, this time stabbing a little deeper. Holly wouldn't mind feeling that way once in a while. But it wasn't to be. She'd chosen her path a long time ago. Love required trust, and too many people had let her down for her to ever take that leap of faith again.

  She glanced out the front window and saw Craig tenderly helping his pregnant wife into the car. Concern and affection filled every gesture. She wished it could have been different for herself. She wanted too much.

  "But it's not like that," Holly said as she walked to the counter. "We really are just friends." And sometimes she wasn't sure about that. So many things confused her. The way his kiss had made her feel, the passion – at least, she thought it was passion – that had flared between them. Her embarrassment when he'd pointed out how much she touched him while he was ill, then the gentle way he'd tried to make her feel better. She still remembered the feel of his arms around her. She didn't know what to think.

  Rebecca stretched out her arm and rested her hand on top of Holly's. "I'm teasing you, and that's not fair. I know how difficult it is in the beginning. The family is overwhelming."

  "But wonderful. Everyone has come in to buy things. Even you and Austin." Holly frowned. "He's really not related?"

  Rebecca shook her head. "They all met when Austin and Travis were in junior high. Austin was a bully, but the Haynes family gave him a place to belong. It's what those brothers do best."

  She glanced around as if checking to make sure they were alone, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I'll tell you a secret. They didn't grow up in a very happy home, and they learned early on to depend only on each other. They all wanted a loving wife and family, but it seemed beyond them. They tried relationships and failed. Each of them gave up, resigned to living alone. But they were wrong." Rebecca smiled. "First Travis found Elizabeth, then Kyle courted Sandy. Just last year Jill dropped into Craig's life. It's not that the Haynes brothers didn't know how to love – it's that they hadn't met the right woman."

  Holly backed up a step. "I'm not the right woman."

  Rebecca studied her for a moment. "Too bad, because you'll never find another man like Jordan or another family like this one. They'll take you in and love you until you never have to be afraid again."

  "I'm not afraid," Holly said quickly, then wondered why she bothered to lie. Of course she was afraid. Sometimes she was afraid she would die of the loneliness.

  "My mistake," Rebecca said lightly. "I thought you might want something special with Jordan. It's fine that you don't, but do me a favor. Don't break his heart."

  "He's not interested in me that way." Holly glanced down at herself. The long apron she wore only emphasized her wide hips. "I'm not his type."

  Rebecca's smile widened. "Aren't you?"

  Before Holly could say anything else, Austin came out of the back room and wanted to know if they were going to live there permanently. Rebecca laughed, then pointed to half a dozen wreaths she wanted to buy. Austin got them down, then collected the ornaments she indicated she liked.

  As Holly wrote up the order, she had to clench her jaw muscles to keep her mouth from hanging open. Somewhere she'd heard a rumor that Austin and Rebecca were wealthy. They'd just bought more in a few minutes than any three other customers combined. She frowned. That wasn't true. All the Haynes family members had bought a lot.

  A warm feeling stole over her. Her stay in Jordan's house was temporary, as was her connection with his relatives. Because she was part of Jordan's life, they were including her. She realized she should enjoy the time while it lasted and give back with the same generous spirit. She had much to be grateful for. It was almost Christmas, and this year she wasn't going to be alone.

  * * *

  Jordan dipped his brush in the can of paint, then straightened. Every muscle in his legs complained.

  "I heard that," Holly said without looking at him. "You're doing too much."

  "I'm fine."

  "And a liar."

  He grinned. "Okay, that too. I'll finish this door frame, then I'll quit for the night."

  "Good. If you have a relapse, your relatives will blame me."

  He glanced at her. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She wore tight jeans that outlined every generous curve and an old sweatshirt that had faded to a misty gray. Her long blond hair had been pulled back in a braid to protect it from the paint that splattered the front of her clothing.

  She wielded a paint brush and roller with the speed and finesse of an expert. In one short week his dining room had been transformed. The floors had been in better shape than either of them had realized. Someone had coated them with wax. Once the buildup was removed, the natural beauty of the hardwood shone through. The old wallpaper was gone. The ceiling had been painted creamy white, and next week Holly would hang the new wallpaper. He had taken her sugge
stion and used the chair rail as a dividing line in the large room. The bottom would be painted colonial blue. Holly was doing that now. The top would be papered. It wasn't authentic, but it fit the shape and function of the room.

  "I called about the furniture," Jordan said. He was in charge of painting door frames to match the ceiling and the chair rails. "It will be here in a week."

  She looked at him over her shoulder. "Great. Just in time for Christmas."

  The chandelier illuminated her features. She'd gotten into the habit of washing off her makeup when she came home from work. He could see the freckles sprinkled on her nose and the tops of her cheeks.

  "Speaking of which," she said, "are you going to get a tree?"

  "Sure. Sunday. It's the annual Haynes family Christmas-tree hunt."

  Her eyebrows drew together. "How do you hunt Christmas trees? They can't run away."

  "It's what we call it. Just the men and the kids. We leave women folk at home."

  "Sounds odd, but okay." She ran her roller across the paint pan, then returned her attention to the wall. "I've put aside a few ornaments from the store. I'd like to contribute them to the decorating."

  "I'd like that," he said. "I always chop down a big tree, then it looks sort of bare and I have to feel sorry for it."

  She shifted until she was on her knees, then worked the roller back and forth, smoothing on paint evenly. "I hope you don't plan to do your own chopping."

  It was making him hurt just watching her paint. "Doubtful. I'll get one of my brothers to do it."

  "Speaking of them, Craig, Austin and their wives were in the store today. In the last couple of weeks half the town has been by to stock up on Christmas supplies. This is going to be my best month yet." She gave him a shy smile. "I know I have you to thank for that."

  He shrugged. "I made a few phone calls. No big deal." There was a light in her eyes that made him feel uncomfortable. He hadn't done anything special.

  "It is a big deal, and I appreciate the business. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they came to the shop as a favor to you, but that they really liked what they saw so they'll come back again because they want to."

  Jordan put down the paint brush and stretched.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked.

  "Sore but better. I'm more mobile. I was up most of yesterday, and there aren't any repercussions today. If I continue to heal, I'll be back at the fire station by the first of the year."

  "Do you miss work?"

  "Yeah. I like my job."

  "Me, too." She smiled.

  He bent down and picked up the brush he was using and returned his attention to the door frame. They worked well together. There was just the right amount of conversation, sprinkled with laughter. He didn't have to think when he was with her. He considered telling her that, but didn't think she would appreciate the news or view it as a compliment.

  "It will be nice to be here for the holidays," Holly said. "Thanks for including me."

  "You're no trouble at all."

  Before he could say anything else, Louise walked in with a couple of sodas. "I've got to leave for my class," she said. "I brought you these."

  He took the cola drink she offered him. "Thanks."

  Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "You're welcome."

  "You're the best," Holly said, and popped the top on her diet soda.

  "I finished the salad," Louise said. "The steaks are ready to go on any time you want to cook them, and the baked potatoes are washed." She addressed her comments to Holly, but kept glancing at him.

  Jordan understood her wariness. Since Holly had moved in, he'd made an effort to be polite to Louise. It was an armed truce. He needed the housekeeper to stay, because she made Holly's presence possible. Louise was their chaperon. If she left, Holly would go, too. He didn't want that. He figured he should probably be smart enough to figure out why, but he didn't want to have to think about it. He only knew that he liked having Holly around. If the price of that was civil conversation with Louise, he would gladly pay.

  As much as he hated to admit it, sometimes he forgot he wasn't supposed to like Louise. The older woman was funny and great at her job. She genuinely cared about his family. He wondered how much of that came from guilt. If he let himself forget the past, he could be friends with her, but he wasn't willing to do that yet.

  "Enjoy your class," he said.

  Louise gave him another puzzled look, then left.

  Jordan finished the door frame about the same time Holly finished the first coat of blue paint. She stood up and surveyed her work.

  "It's going to be stunning," she said. "The colonial blue is just the right color." She glanced at her watch. "You hungry?"

  "Starved."

  "Lot's go fix dinner."

  He followed her into the kitchen. He liked watching the sway of her hips as she walked. The feminine motion appealed to him on a basic level. It was tough to hang back and be polite when all he really wanted to do was haul her close and have his way with her right there on the hall floor.

  When they entered the kitchen, there were stacks of cookie sheets in the sink.

  "Louise has started baking," Holly said as she studied the counter. She pointed to a foil-covered dish. "Samples for dessert. I can't wait."

  "Louise bakes every year for Christmas. It's a tradition."

  She pointed to one of the chairs by the kitchen table. He sank down and relaxed, letting the pain ease out of him. Holly worked quickly. In the past couple of weeks she'd become familiar with the kitchen.

  "My Mom used to make cookies, too," she said as she pricked the potatoes with a fork and set them on a dinner plate. "I think they were sugar cookies. You know, the kind you can decorate. I was in charge of the icing." She leaned against the tile counter and smiled. "I used to get more on my clothes and eat more than ever got on the cookies. She always did special stuff like that with me. We had a lot of fun."

  A single strand of blond hair fluttered near her cheek. She brushed it away slowly. Her blue eyes were large and thoughtful, focusing on a past he could only imagine.

  "What other traditions did you have?" he asked.

  "She used to fill a stocking for me. I loved it. There wasn't anything expensive. Oranges, those chocolate kisses, pens for school, adhesive tape." She looked at him. "What is it about kids and sticky stuff?"

  "I'm not sure, but they do love it."

  "We always had a real tree. It wasn't very big, but it was beautiful, especially at night, with the lights."

  "Did you ever see your father at the holidays?"

  Instantly her face changed. All emotion faded, along with her color. Her mouth straightened, and she folded her arms over her chest.

  "I met him once," she said. "It was about six years ago. My mother was very ill, and the expenses were enormous. I knew who he was. He has a lot of money. I thought maybe—" She swallowed. "I went to see him to ask him if he could help with the medical bills. He said no and that I shouldn't bother him again."

  Hurt hovered around her like fire. He could see it burning away her self-control. He ached for her. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be." She shrugged. "It's no big deal. I didn't care on my behalf. I was worried about my mom. I didn't want her to know I'd gone there or that he'd turned me down."

  Jordan glanced at his lap and was surprised to see his hands curled into tight fists. Consciously he relaxed. Holly's father was a first-class bastard, and he would like nothing more than to teach him the price of hurting his own daughter. Holly might claim not to feel pain, but he could see it and feel it radiating from her. She raised her chin slightly and blinked. He realized she was fighting tears.

  "I suppose it's silly," she said, her voice thickening. "But he never said anything about being my father. I thought he would. I guess I wanted him to acknowledge me. But he didn't say a word."

  Jordan stood up and crossed the linoleum floor. When he was in front of her, he held out his arms, inviting her to find comfort
with him. He didn't touch her, somehow sensing the decision had to be hers.

  She hesitated for a moment, then threw herself against him. Her hands clawed at his sweatshirt, and her face pressed against his chest. A sob shook her, then another. He held her close.

  "It was so h-horrible," she said, the words muffled and broken. "I just stood there staring at him. I could s-see we even sort of looked alike. But he didn't say anything. He didn't care about her, and he d-didn't care about me. I thought fathers were supposed to love their children."

  Jordan thought about his father. "They are, but not all of them do."

  He cupped the back of her head and ran his other hand up and down her spine, all the while murmuring soothingly. He ached for her. It wasn't a physical pain like he had from his injuries. This was down to his soul and into the blackness. It was a hungry pain of loss and emptiness, of forgotten promises and broken dreams. The depth and intensity stunned him. Most of the time he was able to disconnect from everyone else. He was used to not feeling much at all.

  When her sobs lessened, he kissed her cheek and brushed the tears from her skin. She continued to cling to him, and he continued to hold her. He knew he was supposed to be comforting her, but there was something soothing and welcoming in her warmth. He tried to ignore the way her breasts flattened against his chest and her thighs brushed his.

  She sniffed a couple of times. "I must look horrible," she murmured. "I always do when I cry. My eyes get puffy, and my nose gets red."

  "I think it's cute."

  She laughed, then stepped away from him. "Thanks, Jordan. I appreciate it." She cleared her throat. "I want to go take a shower. Would you mind if we put off dinner for a half hour or so?"

  "That's fine."

  She nodded, then started for the door. He called after her, "Holly, your secret is safe with me."

  She glanced at him. "I know. You're a good friend." Then she left the room.

  He stared after her in equal parts of pleasure and annoyance. He was pleased that she trusted him to hold her and keep her secrets safe. After all, he was a master at keeping secrets. But he didn't like her thinking of him as a friend.