Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday FamilySugar Plum SeasonHer Cowboy HeroSmall-Town Fireman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Her words hit home with Max.

  Self-satisfaction wasn’t an easy lesson learned. He’d learned to like himself in the service, and had earned his share of respect and responsibility along the way, but he’d had a hard time wrapping his head around what he needed versus what he wanted.

  He needed to be forgiven. That might or might not happen, but he couldn’t be back in town and walk in the shadow of old lies and live with himself. Which meant he needed to set things straight with the Sawyers, a task he’d do as soon as time allowed.

  On top of that?

  He longed to belong somewhere. To be part of something calm and quiet. He’d done the gung-ho thing to the best of his ability, but seeing his father’s decline and his mother’s worry showed him a dark mirror image. He’d let shame keep him at bay for too long. His unexplained absence hurt his parents and his family. He would never do that to anyone again. “Thanks again, Carmen. I’m going to see Tina home—”

  “Are not.”

  Max ignored her and continued, “Then I’m going to set up camp at the hardware store, but I’m going to leave my car stashed behind Seth’s place.”

  “You’re baiting a trap.” Approval laced Carmen’s comment. “Gianna told me what Seth and Tina saw last night.” Carmen directed her gaze toward the window that faced Tina’s burned-out shop. “It’s creepy to think someone was out there, snooping around in the dead of night while I was sleeping. What do you think he was hunting for?”

  Max shrugged. “I’m not sure. But once word gets around that the arson investigators are going to go through the site, the perp is likely to come back for whatever he lost.”

  “So you guys are going on watch patrol, hoping you’ve tempted him or her out?”

  “That’s why I mentioned the time limit at the meeting,” Max admitted. “This way word gets around, folks will yak it up, and the arsonist might show up.”

  “Unless I was the arsonist and you just warned me off,” Tina countered, looking straight at Max, and the look on her face said she was voicing her own personal concerns. “Maybe I wanted out of town so badly I torched my own business.”

  “Tina, that’s ridiculous,” Carmen spouted. “Anyone in their right mind—”

  “I expect it’s what a few people might be thinking,” Tina continued. “And I know the arson team investigated me.”

  Max put a hand to Tina’s face, her cheek. He left it there, trained his gaze on hers and uttered one short sentence. “You didn’t do it.”

  * * *

  Her chin quivered.

  She firmed it and pulled back, but the coat hooks got in her way.

  “They have to investigate everyone, Tina,” he continued. His low, level voice helped calm her frayed nerve endings. “That’s the job of the arson squad. But we all know you would never do such a thing, so you need to relax. Shove off the urge to take offense, let the investigators do their job and keep helping me at the hardware store so I don’t mess up Dad’s business. And maybe we’ll catch whoever it was you and Seth saw last night.”

  “You believe me.”

  Max’s wry expression said that was about the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “Woman, I never doubted it for a minute. No real coffee lover destroys a crazy-expensive espresso machine. It just isn’t done.”

  He meant it.

  He meant every single word even though people used insurance fraud to pad their budgets far too often. “I do love my coffee,” she admitted. And then she smiled up at him, and he smiled down at her, and for just a moment there was no Carmen, there was no divisive meeting, there were no worries, there was just Max’s smile, warm and soothing, the kind of smile a girl could lose herself in for oh...say...forever?

  A rush of cold air changed the course of her thoughts as Max pulled Carmen’s door open. They hurried through, closed the door, then headed up the sloped incline of Overlook Drive toward Tina’s apartment.

  Cold, biting wind didn’t allow casual conversation, and when a strong gust tunneled down Overlook, Max grabbed hold of Tina’s arm, gaining leverage for both of them.

  And then he didn’t let go.

  Her heart did one of those weird flippy things girls talk about all the time, like it used to when she watched Max from afar fifteen years before.

  Stop it, heart. Stop it right now!

  Her pulse refused to listen. The grip of his hand on her arm, the solidity of him, the intrinsic soldier effect, combined to make her heart jump into a full-fledged tarantella.

  Working side by side with him taught her something new. Max had changed in his time away. He was still crazy attractive, the kind of dream date any girl would want, but he was more now. He’d grown up to be a man of honor and strong character. Suddenly the two past relationships she had thought might end in happily-ever-after paled beside the valor of the U.S. soldier escorting her home. Did that make her fickle? Or stupid?

  I’d go with smart, her conscience advised.

  Tina wasn’t so sure about that. She’d almost married one guy and had thought about it again with the other. So...not smart.

  Wrong. The mental scolding came through loud and clear as they approached Tina’s door. Why is it okay to notice Max has grown up and not realize you’ve done the same thing? Every princess kisses a toad or two. That’s how we find Mr. Right. Eventually. And let me take you back to Sherrie’s bit of advice... Have you given this to God? Prayed about it?

  She’d done no such thing, and the realization shamed her.

  “We’re here, we didn’t blow away. And wear a warmer coat tomorrow. Please.” Max added the last word when she frowned up at him, and the look he gave her, now that they were in the sheltered alcove of her door, said he wasn’t just being bossy. He was concerned.

  Her heart didn’t flip this time.

  It softened under his warm look of entreaty, as if her comfort mattered. From somewhere deep inside, an old feeling dredged up, a fledgling feeling of something good and warm and holy.

  His gaze flitted to her mouth, then back to her eyes, wondering.

  She stepped back into the doorway.

  She’d put her heart on the line twice before. And even though it was no longer baseball season, every American understood the “three strikes and you’re out” rule. Right now—

  She paused, gazing up at Max, and realized she wasn’t sure what she wanted right now, because when Max Campbell was around?

  Her thoughts muddled.

  “You did mention that you weren’t seeing anyone.” Max smiled down at her and touched one chilled finger to her cheek.

  “And I have no intention of seeing anyone.” She held his gaze, refusing to back down or step forward. “My short timeline says we need to leave things uncomplicated. We’re coworkers.” She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “And that’s only until I move away. I can’t afford to get involved, I have a serious disregard for broken hearts and I’ll be gone soon. The hardware store is slower in winter. That will give you time to train someone else to step in.”

  “They won’t be as pretty,” Max observed, but he took a step back.

  And the minute he did? She wished he hadn’t.

  He glanced up. “Head in, get warm. I’ll watch until your lights come on, then I’m circling around as if I’m leaving. That way if anyone’s watching, they’ll have the false assurance that I’m gone and Seth’s on duty in Clearwater.”

  “Is he?”

  “No. He’s staked out inside the vestibule of the church. Reverend Smith was more than happy to give him a warm place for his watch.”

  “The reverend and his wife are good people.” She thought the world of the Smiths, a wonderful couple. They seemed so strong, solid and peaceful in their faith. Sometimes she sat in the back of church, feeling like an imposter. Did she believe in God?

&
nbsp; Yes.

  Did she trust Him to take charge of her life, lead the way?

  No.

  Isn’t that why He gave her two arms, two legs and a working brain? So she could run her life her own way?

  How’s that been working out for you lately? You might want to rethink that whole trust-in-God thing. Just a suggestion. She silenced the internal rebuke, but hadn’t Sherrie been telling her that same thing lately? To put God in charge, play Him on the front line and not leave Him on the bench?

  The very thought required courage she didn’t have. “Be careful tonight.”

  “Will do. And remind me to order some kind of coffee service for the hardware store. It’s crazy not to have a coffeemaker there.”

  Tina read what Max didn’t say, that he felt funny patronizing her aunt’s business when things were bad between them. She nodded, then paused. “I’ll bring over my one-cup system. You buy the pods. But in the meantime, I’m okay with grabbing coffee from Aunt Laura’s place. I think she could use the business and I’m pretty tired of having bad feelings surrounding me. Know what I mean?”

  * * *

  Max mentally counted her request as superachievement number one.

  He knew exactly what she meant. He read it in her eyes. Old regrets wore on the soul, never a good thing. “I’ll do that. Good night, Tina.”

  “Good night, Max.”

  He crossed to Seth’s place once Tina’s lights blinked on, then took his car for a short spin. He returned the back way, slid into a parking spot behind Seth’s garage and wound his way through the trees to below the hardware store. From the shelter of an alcove he could watch the ruins of Tina’s store.

  His brother Luke, another deputy sheriff who lived farther down the east side of Kirkwood Lake, would take over the watch in two hours, allowing Max time to sleep. And Zach Harrison, a New York State Trooper who lived next to the McKinney Farm on the upper west side of Kirkwood Lake, had agreed to relieve Seth. They’d set up a schedule between them, knowing manpower was tight on their combined forces, but also aware of an arsonist’s typical time frame. The emotional “high” of a fire wore off quick, and most arson-lovers struck again fairly soon. Seth, Luke, Zach and Max had decided among themselves that it wasn’t going to happen on their watch.

  And that was the beauty of a small town like Kirkwood, especially one front-loaded with a good share of first responders. The arsonist had used the element of surprise to his advantage when they’d torched Tina’s café.

  They refused to allow him or her to have that advantage again.

  Chapter Five

  Tina lugged the coffeemaker into the hardware store early the next morning. She assumed she’d lie awake half the night, thinking about fire and arson and being alone.

  She didn’t. For the first time in weeks she fell into a sound sleep quickly and slept through the night. Why?

  Because Max was watching over things.

  When he’s here, her conscience chided.

  The sage advice hit home. Life taught her to tread carefully now. She had no desire for another broken heart or to be the object of conversation in their small town. She’d been there, done that.

  It wasn’t a bit fun.

  First, falling for Max would be a game changer and she was done with games.

  Second, she knew his style. When the going got tough? Max did his own thing. She’d seen that with the Sawyers, then with his family. And how anyone could take a wonderful family like the Campbells for granted...

  Reason enough to run scared right there.

  She was leaving, anyway. And even if she wasn’t ready to wipe the dust of her hometown off her heels, it would take more than Max’s word to convince her he was back in Kirkwood to stay. He’d traveled the world, gone on secret missions, played G.I. Joe to the max. The likelihood of Max setting up house in their quaint, sleepy, lakeside hometown?

  Thin. And Tina was done with thin promises and broken dreams. She set up the coffeemaker, filled the water dispenser, then hesitated, caught between her bravado from the previous night and the cold light of morning.

  She’d told Max that she wanted to mend things with her aunt. Had she meant it?

  Yes. But could she do it?

  She sighed, made a face and walked to the front window. To the right lay the church, white wood and stone, a sweet country remembrance of putting God first, a lesson she needed to embrace more often.

  To the left and slightly uphill was The Pelican’s Nest, the lakeshore eatery her parents had owned for decades. She’d taken her first steps there. She’d learned how to read there. She’d had her first kiss there, on the back steps of the kitchen, when Brady Davis dared her to kiss him.

  Afterward, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what all the fuss was about. A few years later, watching Max Campbell date girl after girl, she got a clue. It wasn’t the kiss—in fact it had very little to do with the kiss. It was the person you were kissing that made all the difference.

  She glanced at the clock, saw she had plenty of time, then walked out the door and across the street to the restaurant entrance.

  It felt odd walking through the front door. She’d always breezed in and out of the kitchen entrance, laughing, talking, working, her days and nights filled with school and The Pelican’s Nest.

  She hauled in a deep breath, pulled open the door and strode in.

  Two customers she didn’t know glanced up from the counter, nodded and went back to their coffee. Just two customers in the whole place, at prime breakfast time on a weekday morning.

  “Can I help you?” Laura turned, saw Tina and stopped.

  Tina took advantage of the surprise and moved forward as if everything was all right. “Can I have three coffees to go, Aunt Laura?”

  “Of course.” Laura half stammered the words. A pinched look said she wasn’t sure what to say or what to do so Tina helped once again.

  “I need room for cream and sugar in two of them. And if you have fresh Danish or coffee cake on hand, that would be nice, too.”

  “Three of them?”

  “Sure. Any mix will do. We’ll share.”

  An awkward silence ensued while Laura put the order together. There was no typical morning smell of sizzling bacon or rich French toast grilling alongside eggs over easy. Tina recognized the coffee cake as a recipe her mother had perfected two decades ago, a buttery-rich cinnamon concoction with melt-in-your-mouth texture. Tina’s love of pastry making came from her mother, her love of restaurants from her father, and her stubborn nature had been a combo package. As Laura wrapped the square hunks of cake, she thought of the family they’d been so long ago.

  Where had that gone? Why had it ended?

  Illness, then greed. Her father’s weakening condition pushed him to sell. Rocco’s greed put her out on the street. But Aunt Laura...

  “I’m sorry, Tina.” Laura paused from the simple task. She bit her lip, then squared her shoulders and looked up. Met Tina’s gaze. “So sorry. Losing your coffee shop like that, after all the work you did.”

  Tina stood silent, unsure what to say. There was so much more to be sorry for, their histories intertwined, then butting heads.

  “No matter what went on before, it broke my heart to see it happen.”

  Sincerity laced her words. For the first time in a lot of years, Tina felt the grace of sympathetic family, and it pricked emotions she’d thought long-buried. “Mine, too. Thanks, Aunt Laura.”

  Laura nestled the drinks into a tray, bagged the wrapped cake squares, added plastic forks and napkins and set the bag alongside the drinks. For just a moment she faltered, as if not sure how to charge Tina, but Tina pulled a twenty from her pocket and handed it over without waiting for a total.

  Laura drew a breath, hit the register keys, then handed Tina’s change ba
ck.

  Tina wanted to tip her, tell her to keep the change, but she understood the restaurant business like few others. First, you never tip the owner. It just wasn’t done.

  Second?

  Laura would be insulted. Tina knew her well enough to understand the awkward dynamics between support and charity. Support wasn’t a bad thing.

  Charity?

  Martinelli pride would fight that, tooth and nail.

  She lifted the bag in one hand and the drink tray in the other. “Thank you.” She turned to go, but Laura called her name softly. She turned back. “Yes?”

  “You were busy over there.”

  Tina didn’t deny it. “Yes.”

  “I could use some of that here.” Laura glanced around the diner, and her expression said the lack of business was customary. Tina was restaurant-savvy enough to hear a death knell when it rang in front of her. Aunt Laura was going to lose The Pelican’s Nest.

  “Well, your competition’s pretty much gone,” Tina remarked. “Maybe things will pick up.”

  Laura frowned, and Tina had the strongest urge to hug the older woman.

  She resisted.

  “I want business to pick up, but not at your expense, Tina.”

  Not at Tina’s expense?

  Laura’s words dredged up raw feelings.

  She hadn’t worried about Tina’s expense when she turned her out on the street, no job, no family and no college education shoring her up. She hadn’t worried when Tina worked night and day a block away, building a cozy, inviting enterprise, the kind of place The Pelican’s Nest used to be, in the shadow of her aunt and uncle’s business.

  She and Rocco had taken Tina to court, tying up time and a legal defense that took years to pay off at fifty dollars a month, saying she violated the non-competition clause of the sale agreement. Even though they were planning to move south, her parents had agreed not to open another restaurant within eight miles of The Pelican’s Nest for at least ten years, a common practice in the sale of a family business.

  The judge threw the case out, but not until Tina had wasted time and finances fighting the pointless suit. As the judge pointed out, Laura and Rocco had made the agreement with Tina’s parents.