Christmas from the Heart

by Sheila Roberts

  “That sounds wonderful,” Livi said.

  It did. Well, his mom was making shortbread for him. His Christmas would be good, too. He hoped.

  The day rushed by as they visited homes in town. Guy met more single moms and widows, families where the dad was temporarily out of work, a family or two where Guy suspected the dad had given up on ever having work again. What did that feel like, not having a job? Sometimes Guy resented the long hours he put in, but now he found himself grateful that he had work and a purpose. Men needed a purpose. And a project.

  And men and women alike needed to feel like they were making a difference.

  Which was exactly the way Guy felt right then. He’d never realized how like a puzzle with a missing piece his life had become. Yes, he’d been keeping his eye on the big picture, but big pictures were made up of many small pieces. And each piece was important. This piece, this bit of heart and humanity which business needed to serve, had been missing. He’d focused on strategies and figures, seeing his family’s company as a giant entity that kept everyone involved with it going. But the faces that made up that nebulous everyone had never really come into focus.

  Guy still wanted to be a businessman, but he wanted to run his company differently, to really see the people who worked for his family. He wanted to find that balance in his life that he and Livi had talked about. He wanted to be George Bailey living again. He wanted to be the new and improved Jack Campbell. He wanted to be a Scrooge who knew how to keep Christmas well. A good woman, a good life, being a good neighbor—he wanted to mix that all into his holidays. And every day.

  He was on a holiday high when they returned the minivan and he climbed into Livi’s car. “That was cool.” There was an understatement.

  “It’s so heartwarming to see how much such small kindnesses mean to people,” she said. “I think it reassures them that we’re all in this together.”

  In a Christmas movie. Why didn’t it seem at all corny anymore?

  His cell phone rang. It was his mother, wanting to know the status of his car. “We’re all anxious for you to get here,” she said. “How much longer do you think you’ll have to wait?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s supposed to be done today,” he assured her. “I’ll call you when I’m on the road.”

  “Okay,” she said. “The sooner the better. Christmas is no time to be stranded alone in a strange town.”

  Except he didn’t feel stranded, and he was far from alone.

  “Was that your mother?” Livi guessed as he ended the call.

  He nodded.

  “She’s probably anxious for you to get there.”

  “As long as I’m there for dinner tomorrow it will be fine,” he said. He could linger a little longer here. Maybe he could even come back for New Year’s Eve. He’d bring a nice fat check with him when he came, promise to double what Hightower had given in the past. Then he could finally tell Livi who he really was. Money smoothed every bump in the road.

  They pulled up in front of her house to see a new car parked at the curb. “Oh, my brother’s here. You’ll get to meet him,” Livi said, excited.

  Another family member to meet, another man in Livi’s life who would happily beat the crap out of him if he knew Guy was the evil lord of the Hightower empire. A storm of nervousness swirled inside him, but he nodded gamely and followed her inside the house.

  There in the living room, sprawled on the couch, visiting with Livi’s dad, sat a fit-looking man around Guy’s age, his arm casually draped around a cute brunette who was wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and a Santa hat. Guy could instantly see the resemblance between Livi and her brother. Same eyes, similar hair color, and even though the brother kept his hair short, the same curls his sister sported were present.

  The woman in the Santa hat smiled at him. The brother half smiled. Heard about you. Maybe I’ll give you a chance. Not sure yet.

  Guy half smiled back and nodded a greeting. I’m not a shit.

  “Did we miss all the action?” asked the sister-in-law.

  “Afraid so,” Livi said as the woman hurried over to hug her.

  The brother followed and gave Livi a hug, as well. “Merry Christmas, sis.” To Guy he said, “I’m David,” and held out a hand.

  Guy shook it, smiled and nodded. Couldn’t get out the fake “I’m Joe Ford.”

  “This is Joe Ford,” Livi said, extending the lie. “His car broke down and he’s been staying with us and helping out.”

  “So Dad says.” Brother David looked Guy up and down, assessing him. The man had only a couple of inches on Guy, but at the moment, it felt like two feet.

  “I’m Terryl,” said the sister-in-law, “David’s wife.” Unlike her husband, she looked fully prepared to become pals.

  “Still waiting for your car to get fixed?” David asked Guy.

  “Still waiting.”

  “You may be stuck here for Christmas Eve,” Livi said, sounding hopeful.

  Christmas Eve with the Berg family, eating ham dinner and enjoying eggnog and Christmas cookies.

  Or not. Guy’s cell phone popped the bubble. He saw the caller ID and answered reluctantly.

  “Your car’s ready,” Bentley said, and hung up.

  “Who was that?” Livi asked.

  “The garage. My car’s ready,” Guy said.

  Her smile faltered. “Oh. Well, that’s good. It looks like you’ll be able to make it to your mom’s for Christmas.”

  “Looks like it.” And yes, that was good. He wanted to see his mom. He just hated to leave Livi. Hated to leave the possibilities he’d found here in Pine River.

  But he could come back. And he would, new and improved.

  “I’ll run you to the garage,” offered Livi’s brother. “My sister probably has to get working on dinner. At least I hope you’re gonna,” he said to her. “I’m starving.”

  Was that disappointment Guy saw in her eyes? Had she been hoping to drive him to the garage, hoping for more time together? It was what he’d wanted.

  But he nodded and thanked David. Then he got his belongings from the guest room.

  When he came back downstairs, brother David already had his coat on and was ready and waiting to escort him on his way. The rest of the family was standing in the front hallway, Terryl, the sis-in-law, and Mr. Berg both smiling at him, Livi smiling wistfully.

  “Thanks for putting me up,” he said to Mr. Berg, shaking his hand. Then, to Livi, “And for teaching me to like fruitcake. I hope you’ll let me come back and see you again.”

  Her smile got brighter. “Please do.”

  “Okay, taxi’s leaving,” said her brother, and started down the front porch steps. The party was over.

  “Joe,” Livi called after him as he followed David down the steps.

  Guy turned. There she stood, the porchlight framing her like a nimbus, Little Miss Helpful, his Christmas angel.

  “If you want a quick bite to eat before you hit the road, come on back.”

  He could fit in dinner and get to Coeur d’Alene later that night. A win-win situation. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

  “So, you’re from Seattle, huh?” David said as they got in his car.

  Even though it was nothing special, Guy felt inferior climbing in. “Yeah.”

  “Family business, dad says.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Keeps you pretty busy?”

  “It does.”

  “You one of those sixty-hours-a-week types?”

  “Sometimes,” Guy answered cautiously. Where were they going with this?

  “Not much time for a personal life,” David observed. “Guess you won’t get up to Pine River much then.”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like the town.”

  “Kind of like my sister, too, huh? Sounds like you two have been getting pr
etty friendly.”

  No point denying it. “I do like her. A lot. I’d like to see more of her.”

  “She’s pretty amazing. Deserves somebody amazing, somebody who’s in it for the long haul, not just a sightseer looking for a good time.”

  Guy frowned. “Somebody like Bentley?” Was that what he was getting at? Stay away. My sister already has someone I know and trust.

  “Not necessarily. Bentley’s okay, but Livi’s looking for something more. I don’t want to see her get hurt in the process.” David shot him a look, his eyes suddenly like granite.

  “I’m not out to hurt your sister,” Guy said.

  “A lot of men say shit like that.”

  “Some men mean it.”

  “I hope you do,” David said, and pulled up in front of Bob’s Auto Repair. “If you don’t, don’t bother to come back. Have a good trip.”

  No beating around the bush from brother David. If Livi was his sister, Guy would have felt the same.

  “I’ll be back,” he said, and went inside the garage to rescue his car. It would be nice to have his own wheels again, no more bumming rides from protective brothers.

  Morris Bentley was waiting for him at the customer service counter. Guy hadn’t been expecting a welcoming smile. Bentley didn’t disappoint him.

  “Your ride’s ready,” he said, and shoved an invoice across the counter.

  Guy took it and frowned. It was double what he’d expected. He cocked an eyebrow at his rival.

  “I don’t do the billing,” Bentley snapped. “You gonna pay with cash or plastic?”

  Guy could have paid with cash if he hadn’t been throwing around hundreds and fifties right and left. He’d drained his reserves making sure Livi didn’t see his identity so there was no help for it now. He’d have to use a credit card. He pulled out his Visa and handed it over, hoping Bentley wouldn’t look at it too closely.

  Bentley took it and glared at it. Then his brows pulled together. Then he looked at Guy.

  Shit. “What?” Guy demanded. The best defense was a good offense.

  Bentley merely shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Except it was something. Morris Bentley, the ever-loyal sidekick had to have heard about the rotten Guy Hightower who’d failed to come through for Christmas from the Heart. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

  Bentley rang up the sale, Guy signed the damning merchant receipt, then took his copy along with his car keys, picked up his overnight bag and computer, and scrammed. Once in his car, he roared off down the road, hoping to outrun Bentley. Maybe Livi was on the phone and Bentley wouldn’t get through to her. Maybe a customer would come in.

  Or maybe the gremlins were out to get him.

  * * *

  So, Joe Ford was a fake. “I knew it,” Morris crowed, and reached for his cell phone.

  14

  “Hotness,” Terryl said as she and Livi moved into the kitchen to work on Christmas Eve dinner. “Total hotness.”

  “Not just hot. He’s smart and funny and generous,” said Livi.

  “Single, I assume? I mean, it would be a dirty trick if Santa dropped such a man on your doorstep and he turned out to be married.”

  “He’s not married.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “No,” Livi said with a grin. She put the ham in the oven to heat, and she and Terryl started scrubbing potatoes.

  “Not yet, you mean,” Terryl said. “I saw the way he looked at you.”

  The way he’d looked at her before he left, like she was something special, had warmed her through and through. She could already picture them engaged, sitting before a roaring fire and planning their wedding. Of course, that was way premature. But a girl could dream. And dreams could come true, especially this one because everything about this romantic beginning with Joe Ford felt so right.

  “Is he rich?” Terryl wanted to know. “Not that it matters, but considering the fact that you run a nonprofit it would be a nice bonus.”

  “I’d say so. He drives an expensive foreign car and throws around fifty-and hundred-dollar bills like they’re fives.” And he knows how to melt a woman with a kiss.

  “What is he, an Amazonian or Microsoft millionaire?”

  “No. He’s part of his family’s business.”

  “If he’s driving a fancy car the business must be doing okay. I wonder what it is. Not that it matters,” Terryl added with a shrug. “Did he donate to Christmas from the Heart?”

  “Oh yes, starting with the fruitcake competition. In fact, he wound up stepping in for one of our judges who got sick, which was really sweet considering the fact that he doesn’t like fruitcake.”

  “That had to be interesting,” Terryl said with a snicker.

  “It’s been interesting the whole time he’s been here,” Livi said, and put the potatoes in the oven. Including an extra one in case Joe decided to come back. “And he’s been such a help.”

  “He sounds like a great guy. And any man who’s willing to eat fruitcake for you has got to be a keeper. Pretty cool that his car just happened to break down in Pine River. Maybe this is Santa’s way of making up for your losing Hightower as a donor.”

  “Maybe,” Livi agreed. “I hope he comes back for dinner before he starts for his mom’s.”

  “Me, too. I want to get to know this potential...donor better,” Terryl added with a grin. She leaned on the counter and watched as Livi pulled out the ingredients to make red velvet cake. “So, give me deets. What was the moment when you knew he was the most amazing man ever? Well, second most amazing, right after your brother.”

  “I know it’s going to sound silly,” Livi said as she cracked eggs into the mixing bowl, “but the minute he got in my car, I almost felt this déjà vu thing, like we’d met before.” And when he kissed me. That kiss they’d shared at the kitchen table—it had been delicious. And then, the encores.

  Good grief, she was like a tween with her first crush. She focused on measuring sugar into the bowl.

  “That is so romantic,” Terryl said with a sigh. “So, what was it about him that attracted you in the first place? Was it his smile?”

  “That certainly got my attention.” Livi added the last of the ingredients and began to mix up the batter. “He was just...so nice. You know? I mean, there he was stranded and not wanting to put me to any trouble. I really had to do some fast talking to convince him to stay with us. But you know what’s most important, he’s generous. I think what really did it for me was when he went out and bought all those turkeys.”

  Terryl pulled out the cake pans. “Oh well, yeah. If a man bought me a turkey I’d be all over him.”

  “We couldn’t buy as many this year thanks to Hightower letting us down. And Joe saw how few we had to give and went to the store and bought them out. He bought two dozen hams, too. It was so kind.”

  “Okay, that makes it official. He is the perfect man for you.”

  Livi remembered the wish she’d made when she first hung the mistletoe. Joe was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, Livi was sure. But she was half-afraid to get her hopes up. What they’d been enjoying was almost too good to be true.

  “It’s probably too soon to know,” she said.

  “I knew right away with your brother. I hope this works out for you. You deserve to be happy.”

  “I don’t know about what I deserve,” Livi said as she put the cake in the oven. “But I can tell you, right now I’m pretty happy.”

  The landline rang. She picked up the kitchen extension to find Morris on the other end. “Livi, I just learned something about Joe Ford.”

  His tone of voice made it sound like he’d discovered Joe was a serial killer. Livi frowned. What was Morris up to now? “Morris,” she began, her voice stern.

  “You need to hear this. Are you sitting down?”

  * * *
/>   Who was Guy kidding? He wasn’t going to outrun a phone call. And he knew as surely as he knew there was no Santa that Bentley was already on the phone with Livi, leaking his true identity. He had to go back to the house and face her, explain his changed outlook on life. But how was he going to get her to even listen to him?

  He couldn’t show up empty-handed. He’d dated enough women to know that was a strategic error. If you showed up empty-handed, your apology came across equally empty. He needed a peace offering, an olive branch.

  He pulled into the downtown and began to cruise the slushy streets, looking for a flower shop. Flowers 4 You. It had a number of nice-looking floral arrangements in the window. Perfect.

  Except the owner of the shop was turning the sign in the window to Closed. No! Don’t do that!

  Guy jumped out of his car and raced to the door. He could see the woman moving toward the back of the shop. He banged on the door.

  She was somewhere in her fifties, pudgy with dark hair and thin lips. She turned and looked at him, the lips getting thinner.

  He gesticulated wildly, begging for her to come let him in.

  She shook her head, and even though he wasn’t good at reading lips it wasn’t hard to figure out what she was saying. “We’re closed.”

  The store hours said ten to five. It was all of one minute after five. “Oh, come on,” he groaned, and banged again. “Have a heart.”

  She glared.

  He held out his hands, beseeching mercy.

  She shook her head and turned and disappeared. What ever happened to good customer service?

  “Oh yeah. Thanks. And Merry Christmas to you, too,” he growled.

  He got back in his car and roared off for the grocery store. They had a floral department, and they understood the importance of being open late in the afternoon on Christmas Eve.

  The grocery store was busier than Santa’s workshop, with people buying last-minute grocery items and salt for their driveways. The floral department was busy, too. A woman passed Guy bearing a bouquet of red roses, baby’s breath and ferns. Another was making a selection from a bucket filled with red-and-white carnations. Carnations wouldn’t do. Not expensive enough. Roses were nice but trite. Guy moved to where the floral arrangements sat. He saw a big, impressive one and reached for it just as an older man snagged it. Full of Christmas spirit, Guy swore under his breath.