“It’s not too fast, is it?” Ryan looked at Mallory. “There’s no time for you to plan some fancy wedding.”
“I don’t want fancy. I want the people we love there, and a minister. And we’ve already been through this.” She pushed out of the deeply cushioned couch and held out her hand to him. “Come on. I want some more dessert before it’s all gone.”
He laughed and rose. “That ain’t likely to happen around this family.” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “You look beautiful.”
Heat streaked through her. She supposed that was what she could expect for the next fifty years. Hoped.
“Ahem.” The deep voice interrupted them and Mallory felt her face flush as she looked up at Coleman Black. She’d finally learned that he wasn’t involved with the family strictly because of Ryan and the others who’d worked for him, but because he was Brody Paine’s father.
“You ought to know better than to interrupt a man when he’s kissing his fiancée,” Ryan commented.
Mallory ignored him and smiled at the man. Yes, he’d been part of the pain of Ryan’s past, but he’d also been part of the accomplishment. And if he had never sent that small box of Cassie’s things to her, she would never have found her way to Ryan. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Black.”
He waved that away. “Cole. Please. And if Ryan ever forgets to appreciate you, let me know and I’ll do what I can to set him straight.”
She smiled up at Ryan. “I think we’re going to be all right.”
Cole’s gaze was sharp. “Yes. I think you are.” He looked at Ryan. “We’ll meet next week about your idea,” he said. “A network for families to find ones they’ve lost is something that we all can sink our teeth into.”
Mallory squeezed Ryan’s hand and shared a look. It wouldn’t be the only network of its kind, of course, but it would be all the more powerful for the kind of information that HW Industries could amass.
“We’ll talk about it after our honeymoon,” Ryan corrected.
Cole smiled. “Right.” Then he drew an envelope from inside his suit and handed it to Ryan. “Here’s that other info you asked me to look into.” He spotted his daughter-in-law, Angeline, who was lovely in an ivory dress that didn’t hide her pregnancy. “Excuse me, won’t you?”
He moved off, leaving them alone. Or as alone as they could be in a house teeming with dozens of people, all of whom were related in one way or another to someone else. “It’s for you, actually.” Ryan handed her the envelope.
She remembered the last one. “What is it?”
“Nothing alarming,” he assured. “Open it.”
Giving him a narrow look, she tore it open and pulled out the folded papers inside and didn’t entirely relax until she was certain there wasn’t another check inside it, since she’d torn up the other and given it back to him when she’d moved her few belongings out of Dan’s office. Until the hospital board voted in January on the new position—which she was assured was a sure thing since a majority of board members came from Ryan’s own family—she was officially unemployed.
And found that she didn’t mind the break a bit.
“What is all this?” She was flipping through the few pages, all photocopies of old documents and news clippings.
“Hollins conducts detailed background checks on all of its employees,” Ryan said. “Very detailed.”
She peered at the dates on the papers. “Is this yet another relative of yours?”
“Of yours.” He put the last sheet—the newspaper article—on top. “That’s your father, Mallory.” His voice was impossibly gentle. “The information was in Cassie’s file.”
Her fingers tightened on the sheets. She stared at the grainy text. The even grainier photograph of a handsome young man in uniform. “George M. Cassie.” She read the caption. “But how? My mother never told us anything about him. His name wasn’t on our birth certificates.” She looked at him. “Did Cassie know?”
He shook his head. “I doubt it. There wouldn’t have been a reason for her to see her own personnel file. And she’d have told you, wouldn’t she?”
She nodded, drawing her finger over the face.
“As for how, it’s because Cole hires people who are good at what they do,” he said simply. “George died during the fall of Saigon. Before you were born. The article talks about him and the family he helped to escape before he was killed. He was a hero, Doc.”
Mallory pressed the papers to her breast and turned into him. “Thank you.” Her voice was thick. “I never expected this. It’s a wonderful Christmas gift.”
“Mom.” Chloe was back, pulling at the sleeve of Mallory’s red sweater dress. “Come on. Grampa Squire is in the basement and he’s passing out presents. To everyone. Grammy’s already down there and her present was a bowling ball!” She giggled. “She says she’s gonna use it, too, ’cause there’s a bowling league on Thursday nights and it’s almost all old men who don’t got girlfriends.”
Mallory dashed her hand down her cheek and laughed shakily. Kathleen, it appeared, was planning to fit into Weaver with a vengeance.
“Then we’d better get downstairs, too,” Ryan agreed, serious. “Lead the way.” He slid his arm around Mallory and pulled her close again. “And after presents, and dessert, then can we go home?”
She tucked her head against him and her gaze strayed to the angel at the top of the Christmas tree that stood sentry over the entire celebration.
And she smiled. “Absolutely.”
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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First published in Great Britain 2010
Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Allison Lee Johnson 2009
ISBN: 978-1-4089-0125-0
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Copyright
th friends
A Weaver Holiday Homecoming Page 20
