His Holiday Family

by Margaret Daley

  Next to her, Gideon drew her close to him, wrapping his arms around her. His warmth spread through her, alleviating the chill some. She cherished the feel of his embrace, the sense of being protected from the elements. “The temperature is dropping. A front must be moving through. It’s always a little cooler here, which is great in the summer.”

  She turned her head and whispered, “Some people came better prepared than I did. I’m looking forward to a cup of hot chocolate.”

  Gideon’s face, only inches from hers, threw her heartbeat into a fast tempo. The cold fled completely as the mayor finished his little speech about the future of Hope.

  “It’s time to turn on the lights. A beacon of hope in the dark. Ships passing by will be able to see our little light display. Hope may have been hit six weeks ago, but we aren’t down. There will be a new Hope rising even better than before. Kip Hart will flip the switch this year on our Lights On Celebration. Kip, are you ready?”

  Nodding, her son positioned himself next to a big red button.

  “Okay. Ten. Nine,” the mayor said with everyone as usual joining in the countdown. “Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

  Kip pressed the button and bright lights flooded the park—thousands and thousands of them, glittering and dazzling.

  But Kathleen’s gaze fastened onto the lighthouse the fire department had decorated. Red, white and blue lights covered the whole surface of the white structure as though the building was wrapped in an American flag. “Stunning.”

  “I’m glad you like it. It was my idea. A tribute to our soldiers and citizens who continually fight to make this country better. All I have to do is look around at the people in this crowd.”

  The warmth of his breath tickled her neck. She shivered.

  “Still cold?”

  The crowd began to clap at the display not only on the lighthouse, but on the ten-foot Christmas tree standing tall at the edge of the cliff as if it defied the sea to take it down as it had so many others in the hurricane. The park’s pines, live oaks, stripped of their Spanish moss, and magnolia trees left from the storm were lit up in white like stars glinting in the night sky.

  Kip made his way through the people surrounding the mayor. “Mom, what did ya think?”

  “You did great.”

  “The mayor told me they found a few more areas along the cliff that had to be shored up. That I prevented others from being hurt. I helped save some people.”

  She was glad some good had come out of the tragedy, but it didn’t make it any less painful.

  “I’m hungry. Can I go get some dessert and hot chocolate?” Jared wedged himself in front of Kathleen.

  “I was thinking that very thing.” The church would block a lot of the chilly wind. A much better place to enjoy the treats her mother’s ladies’ group had fixed. “If we hurry, we can be first in line.”

  Jared shot forward, nearly knocking into a young woman in his haste. Kip trailed his brother at a more sedate pace, still not up to his usual active level.

  “I probably shouldn’t have said that. But then with everyone who turned out for the celebration, it would be nice to be at the front of the line.”

  Gideon glanced around. “I think others have the same idea.”

  “At least we’ll be out of the wind.”

  Gideon waved at Pete and his wife. “We could break in line.”

  “You’re such a rebel.”

  “Your mom said something about making divinity.”

  “She makes the best in town. Probably the state. I don’t know how I’m going to carry on her tradition. Mine isn’t nearly as good.”

  “Y’all have a lot of traditions at Christmas.”

  “Yeah, passed down from my grandmother. There is a comfort to them. Kip and Jared will feel right at home here because we’ve done the same thing since they were born. We were a little late with the tree because of the accident, but tomorrow we’re all going to make Christmas cookies and take them to Hope Retirement Home along with Mom’s homemade eggnog. Now that, I have mastered.”

  “Even when my parents were alive we didn’t have any traditions other than going to church on Christmas Eve.”

  “You’re welcome to take part in our traditions. Miss Alice is going to help tomorrow with the cookies and go with us to deliver them.”

  “I wish I could, but I promised Pete I would help with some of his repairs at his house. He still has quite a bit of work to do on his place.”

  “Somehow I can see you doing that more than baking cookies,” Kathleen said with a chuckle. “It’s a lot of fun, but the real work starts after the cookies are boxed up and ready to go.”

  His forehead furrowed as he slowly moved forward in the line. “Taking them to the retirement home?”

  “No, cleaning up the mess my boys make. Sort of like a mini hurricane blowing through the kitchen. You know flour goes everywhere and in places you don’t want when you start throwing it at your brother.”

  “Interesting. I would never have figured that.” His laughter filled the air.

  Kathleen loved hearing him laugh. It invited her to join in on the merriment. She was falling for him, and she didn’t know if that was a smart move. Her marriage problems were still so fresh in her mind. What if she made a mistake as she did with marrying Derek? She had more than herself to consider in this. As she reached her mom behind the first table of goodies, she shook the dilemma from her mind. She wasn’t going to let worrying over it ruin her evening.

  “Thanks for carrying Kip up to bed again. All this activity is wearing him out. It’s hard to restrict him at this time of year.” Kathleen opened the front door for Gideon.

  He headed up the stairs with Jared following.

  “Why does he always get to be carried up the stairs? I should have fallen asleep in the car on the way home, then you would have to carry me, too. Except I would like you to do a fireman’s carry with me.”

  Gideon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling at the continual one-upmanship between the two brothers. At least he finally heard from his brother overseas. He would be returning to the United States in the spring and wanted to meet Gideon after all these years.

  He had vague memories of times spent with Zach as children. Lighthearted, fun times. When he was living at some of the foster homes he’d been at, the atmosphere had been anything but lighthearted. Not all but a few—enough that he always watched his back and guarded his words.

  Gideon placed Kip on the bed and covered him as he had the night they had decorated the Christmas tree. The simple action connected him to the child. He backed away, his emotions swelling in his chest, closing his throat.

  “I’m going downstairs and probably fall asleep on the couch,” Jared said at the doorway. “Remember the fireman’s carry if I happen to fall asleep.”

  Gideon strode behind the boy. “Okay, but didn’t your mom say something about getting ready for bed?”

  He whirled around and began walking backward toward the stairs. “I didn’t hear that. I’m not tired a bit.”

  “Well, then I guess you won’t fall asleep on the couch.”

  He swung around and faced forward, grasping the banister. “I can get sleepy real fast.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Downstairs, Jared ran toward the den where the sound of voices was coming from. Gideon paused in the living room and stared at the tree. True to their word, the boys had filled almost all the blank places on the tree. He could hardly see the pine beneath all the decorations.

  “Hi, I thought maybe you had gone home.” Kathleen came up behind him and put her hand on his arm.

  The touch zapped him with more feelings of wanting to belong to a family. “I wouldn’t leave without telling you good-night. Besides, I have a sneaky suspicion that Jared is going to fall asleep on the couch in the den, and I’m going to have to carry him upstairs using the fireman’s carry.”

  “You are? So now all I have to do t
o get him to sleep in the future is to have you here, ready, willing and able to carry him up the stairs over your shoulder. You’re hired for the job.”

  He tweaked her pert nose. “It’s a freebie.” Hooking his arm around her, he pulled her close. “I enjoyed tonight. I’ve gone every year to the Lights On Celebration, but this year was special.”

  “Because we’re celebrating more than the beginning of the holiday season. We’re celebrating our comeback.”

  “I can see that you were a cheerleader in your youth.”

  She laughed. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment. Someone has to cheer people on. I’m very good at standing on the sidelines and doing that.”

  “Not participating?”

  “In this case I guess I did. I still have paint under my fingernails and probably a splinter or two still in my hands.”

  He grabbed one of them and turned her palm up. “Where? I’m very good at taking out splinters. Show me and I’ll get a needle and alcohol.”

  She snatched her hand back. “I think I’ll take care of it. I still have one in my hand from when I was a little girl. It would take surgery to remove it now.”

  “I’m a trained paramedic. I probably could do that, too.”

  She snuggled closer. “Don’t forget our date on the fifteenth. This is your chance to tell me what you want me to cook for you.”

  Enjoying her close to him, he looked over her shoulder and up. “Hmm. Let me see. Lobster and T-bone sounds great. Or…” He tilted his head, pretending to be in deep thought. “Actually, surprise me.”

  “No lobster and steak?”

  “Nope. Although I do like seafood, lobster isn’t my favorite.”

  “I think I have the perfect recipe in mind.”

  “What?”

  “You wanted me to surprise you so I’m not telling you.”

  “That day I’ll be at the doctor late. Do you want to use my kitchen earlier?”

  “Probably would be better than me carting all the dishes to your house.”

  “Are you working that day?”

  “No, and I will need all afternoon to prepare my feast.” She grinned. “But that is all I’m telling you about what I’m preparing.”

  Their easy repartee only reinforced how comfortable he was with Kathleen. Her smile encompassed her whole face, joy radiating from her. He couldn’t take his gaze off her mouth. Inviting. Tempting. He had to taste it.

  He slowly lowered his head. “Thank you for this evening.”

  Her lips parted slightly, and he swooped in to kiss them. He pulled her against him, their rapid heartbeats matching tempos, and put everything into the merging of their mouths.

  From afar, someone clearing her throat intruded into his dazed mind. He didn’t want to end the kiss, but Kathleen disengaged and stepped from his embrace. She shifted to the right.

  “Jared is asleep on the couch. He told me when he fell asleep I was to get Gideon. That he’d know what to do.” Amusement laced Ruth’s voice.

  Bereft without her in his arms, Gideon nodded his head and clicked his shoes. “Duty calls.”

  The urge to tickle Jared was strong, but Gideon resisted it. He bent down and hoisted the child over his right shoulder. He weighed next to nothing considering some of the equipment he had to haul in a fire. Mounting the stairs, he sensed Kathleen’s gaze on him. That awareness of her heightened an electric sensation that charged his nerves.

  Then she was behind him, following him up the steps. What would it feel like to carry his own child to bed, to have his wife accompany him and them both put him down to sleep? The way his life was going, he’d never find out unless he was willing to make a change and risk getting hurt again.

  Chapter Twelve

  As Kathleen sliced up the red pepper for a salad, her hand shook. Finally, she lay it beside the cutting board and gripped the edge of the counter in Gideon’s kitchen. How was she going to find the money for the medical bills for Kip? She was still paying off her husband’s debt. The doctor’s bill had arrived this afternoon, and it was worse than she thought. She didn’t even have the energy to call the doctor’s office to talk with someone about what she owed. All her mistakes from her past were crushing her, and she didn’t know how to get out from under them.

  She forced herself to pick up the paring knife and finish making the salad. The scent of shrimp gumbo saturated the room with its spicy seafood aroma. The repetitive motion of dicing the pepper up into small pieces didn’t soothe as it usually did. That was one of the reasons she enjoyed cooking—she could forget her troubles for a while. But not this time.

  Gideon would be home soon and ready to celebrate after having his cast removed today. And that was the last thing she felt like doing. She wasn’t even sure how she was going to get enthusiastic about the holidays. She had purchased a couple of gifts for her boys before Kip’s accident and the car repairs. That would have to be their Christmas. Although she was already working some extra shifts at the hospital, maybe she could find another nursing job. She didn’t have anything else she could sell to raise money. Most of her possessions were gone in the hurricane. The more she thought about her mounting debt the more her movements slowed until she couldn’t even lift the blade.

  Tears blurred her vision, and she closed her eyes, setting the knife on the counter. She didn’t have any answers to her problems. She’d thought about filing for bankruptcy, but she didn’t want to do that if at all possible.

  The sound of the front door opening then closing underscored she wasn’t alone anymore. She needed to get her composure together. This was her problem, and she didn’t want to burden anyone else, even Gideon, with it. She straightened, wiped the tears from her eyes and picked up the knife to complete the salad.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Gideon said as he came into the kitchen. “Now does that not sound like one of those shows in the fifties like Leave It to Beaver or Father Knows Best?”

  She forced a smile to her lips and turned toward him. “I think, Mr. O’Brien, you’ve had way too much time on your hands.”

  “I beg your pardon. I’ve been working at a dull desk job.”

  “Which must have given you time to daydream.”

  “I did find myself drifting off every once in a while, but don’t tell the captain.” He held up his cast-free arm and waved it. “Now that I’m back on rotation, he’d have me doing twice the work.”

  “Poor guy. You can’t have it both ways. Either desk duty or firefighter. Which is it going to be?” She began dicing the rest of the pepper.

  “No contest—firefighter.” He closed the distance between them and drew in a deep breath. “Ah, that’s a great smell. Shrimp gumbo. How did you know that’s one of my favorite dishes?”

  “A little sleuthing on my part. I called Pete, and he told me.”

  “And he didn’t say a word to me. I didn’t think Pete could keep quiet about anything.”

  She smiled at him. “This time he did.”

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  “You can put the French bread into the oven at 375 degrees. Everything else is done.”

  “Want me to set the table?”

  “I already did. In the dining room.”

  Gideon gave a low whistle. “You are going all out.”

  “That’s the only way to do something. I even brought two of Mom’s china place settings.”

  “I’m feeling pampered, and all I had to do was go into a burning building and do my job.”

  She caught him watching her reaction to his words. “For your information I have forgiven myself weeks ago about my part in your injuries. You have convinced me I wasn’t responsible.”

  “Good. I was ready to launch into my spiel again if I had to.” He put the bread in the oven then moved toward the dining room. “I have one final touch to add to the table.”

  “What?”

  He swung around at the doorway. “You are not allowed in here until it is time to eat.”

  “Okay. B
ut that’s not fair. This was my evening to do for you.”

  He headed out of the room. “Who said life is fair?”

  Fair? No, it wasn’t. Since before Derek’s death, it had been one problem after another. When something went wrong, she didn’t even have time to recover before another crisis occurred. The tears threatened again. She swallowed them away, but her throat burned.

  “All done. I had to lend my finishing touch to the table.”

  She picked up the bowl of salad. “I’m done, too. I’m going to put this on the table—”

  He plucked it from her hands. “Your ploy won’t work. I’ll take the food in.”

  “While you’re in there, bring the bowls for the gumbo. The bread should be done in ten minutes.”

  “Great. I’m starved.” He stopped in front of her by the stove and grasped the wooden spoon to stir the pot’s contents. Bending over the heat rising from the gumbo, he inhaled and held the breath for a long moment then released it slowly. “I love that smell. I’ve been wondering all day what you were going to cook and was regretting telling you to surprise me. I don’t like surprises normally.”

  “Neither do I.” She threw a glance toward the dining room.

  “You only have a few more minutes to wait.” He inched toward her. “I can think of a couple of things we could do to pass the time until the bread is done.”

  His eyes gleamed as they roved over her face. He reached up and brushed her hair behind her ears, his gaze glued to her mouth. Her heart plummeted. His smoldering look spoke to her feminine side, urging her to give in to the feelings he generated in her. She couldn’t, shouldn’t.

  When he sought her mouth and touched his to hers, she knew she needed to break it off. Her heart refused to listen to common sense that said she should get her life under control before even thinking of becoming involved with a man. She surrendered, giving him a part of herself she didn’t have to give.

  When they broke apart, their breathing ragged, Kathleen quickly tried to recapture that elusive part of herself—her heart. She couldn’t risk it right now. She could never ask another to take on the kind of debt she had. It was her problem. No one else’s.