His Mistletoe Family

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “I’ll call them before it gets busy,” the older man promised, smiling. “It takes them two a little while to find their car and get down the road.”

  His words lightened the moment and made Haley smile. “The bus schedule is printed on the back wall here and in your dailies,” she reminded them as she tugged on her coat. “And tomorrow is our second fire safety inspection. And if we don’t pass this time, we could be fined. Or shut down. And—” she hated to reveal this last part, but the seriousness of Brett’s inspection pushed her to total honesty “—if we don’t pass, the next installment of my bank loan remains in escrow and I can’t pay the second round of contractors.”

  Murmurs of surprise had her raising her hand. “We’re not in financial trouble as long as this inspection goes through. The bank’s clause says that lack of code adherence is reason to hold our money. So passing this time is crucial.”

  “We’ll pass it.” Maude McGinnity’s voice came loud and firm from the back. “Having a new business this close to the interstate is good for all of us, Haley. We’ll make sure it’s done and done right. You’ve got my word on it.”

  “And mine.”

  “Mine, too.” Lisa held up the cooperative’s copy of the last inspection. “I’ve got a copy here of what we’ve fixed since Monday. I’ll make everyone their own copy. That way we can double check everything tonight.”

  “Great idea.”

  “Perfect!”

  “Thank you, everyone.” Haley smiled her appreciation as she grabbed her purse, gloves and scarf. “And if anybody knows anything about settling a little boy’s stomach, let me know. Business I get.” She swept the inviting co-op a quick glance. “Kids? Not so much.”

  “Ginger ale.”

  “Time.”

  “Both,” laughed Maude as she waved goodbye. “You’ll figure it out, honey. We all do.”

  Would she?

  Haley hoped so. But her lack of knowledge said she should at least order books about child raising. Maybe take a class. Although where she’d fit that into her already-overcrowded schedule, she had no idea. Which meant the idea would go nowhere, but finding a book? Checking with the experts?

  That she could do.

  * * *

  “Hey, Charlie. What’s up? Are the boys behaving themselves?” Brett reached into the SUV to procure his clipboard as he answered the phone mid-afternoon.

  “I don’t have ’em,” Charlie reported. He sounded glum. “Tyler got sick and I had to call Haley to come get them, what with Jess’s baby being small and all.”

  “Is he all right?” Brett’s head leaped to worst-case scenarios. Hospitals. Ambulances.

  “Mother says it’s just a stomach bug going around,” Charlie assured him, “but women are always calmer with this sort of thing than us men.”

  Not Brett’s mother. Joanna Stanton had never been the norm. Maybe most women were calm, cool and collected with sick kids. He wouldn’t know. “She’s got the boys back at the apartment?”

  “Yes. And I was going to take them to see Bwana Jim and the animals.” Charlie sounded genuinely disappointed.

  “They’d love that, Charlie. Next week maybe?”

  “We’ll try that,” Charlie agreed. “I’m here at the store with Mother. They’ve had busloads of people ’cross the way, but we don’t get much drift from the buses.”

  But Haley’s new business did. And instead of being there, manning the front, steering foot traffic and welcoming folks, she was home with a sick kid. “I’ll do this last inspection, then head back there, but I’m on the opposite end of the county, so it will be a while.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  Brett keyed Haley’s number as a van pulled up alongside his SUV. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, wishing he’d had a chance to talk to her. Assess the situation.

  It’s a sick kid. Not a coup staged by rebel insurgents. Get a hold of yourself. This stuff happens all the time.

  It probably did, Brett realized. But he’d never been a part of it, and having it happen to Haley’s little fellows tugged his attention back to Jamison when what he needed to do was concentrate on this inspection.

  He shook the owner’s hand and tried to separate himself from his concern. That lasted all of five seconds. With a word of apology, he excused himself and hit her number.

  “Brett?”

  The need in her one-word salutation made him wish he was there helping. Taking care of her and those kids. “I just talked to Charlie. He said Tyler’s sick. How’s he doing? Do we need to take him in? Have him seen by a doctor?”

  “Not according to LuAnn,” Haley told him.

  Exactly what Charlie had said, so why did he need this confirmation? Because he wanted to hear Haley’s voice. Reassure her. Be there for her. “And LuAnn’s raised a bunch of kids.”

  “Exactly,” Haley agreed. “She says it just needs to run its course and if he’s not better in two days, then we take him in. Or if his fever goes crazy-high, but it’s not. Hovering just over a hundred degrees.”

  “Poor little guy.”

  “I know.” Commiseration colored her tone.

  “And you’ve got the co-op covered?”

  “I hope so. Everyone seemed willing to rise to the occasion, but I hate being so close and not know what’s going on. How things are developing. We had a bunch of scheduled buses today, and Lisa called to tell me there were two unscheduled ones that stopped.”

  “And you’re torn between duties.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “But there’s no other option, so I’m snuggling my little friend here. LuAnn dropped off a bunch of DVDs, so we’re just chillin’ together. The three of us.”

  A slight movement reminded Brett he had a job to do. “I’ll stop by the store and grab some sick-kid supplies on my way home. See you later.”

  “Okay.”

  He pocketed the phone and turned. The construction crew chief aimed a look of understanding at his pocket. “You’ve got a sick kid?”

  Not exactly, but... “Yes.”

  The other man swung the door wide. “I hate when they get sick. I don’t mind working I beams or scaling scaffolding, but have my kid run a temperature, and I’m running around, wondering what to do to make it better.”

  His words echoed Brett’s feelings. “That’s normal, huh?”

  The other man laughed and clapped Brett on the back. “A new father, eh? Well, buddy, you’re in for the ride of your life.”

  Was he?

  He wanted to be, he realized. In a way that he never wanted anything else, he longed to be special to Haley and those boys, which was downright silly considering the short length of time they’d known each other. But his growing sense of inner peace made him feel almost whole again.

  He went through the inspection step by step, resolute, but once done, he went to the Tops Market in Wellsville and stocked up on things Haley might need, then aimed for Jamison, determined to check out Tyler for himself. And maybe give Haley the reassuring hug he needed.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Don’t come near me.” Haley issued the edict when she swung open the apartment door.

  Brett feigned a fearful expression as he hauled in four plastic sacks filled with everything he thought might be necessary. “Because?”

  “I’m probably germ-infested. And I smell bad. The whole apartment smells bad and we might be dealing with plague.”

  He hugged her anyway, but stayed off topics like last night’s kiss. Or his proximity to the boys all day yesterday. Sharing food. Swapping germs. If he was going to catch this bug, most likely it was already working in his system. He released Haley and crossed the room to see Tyler. “Luckily I had my anti-plague shots before my last tour of duty.”

  “Oh. Well...” She read the humor in hi
s gaze and challenged it. “You’re not funny.”

  “Sure I am. Hey, how’re you doin’, sport?”

  “Brett!” Todd scrambled out of the bathroom, a toothbrush dripping water as he ran. “Tyler puked all over Charlie’s kitchen!”

  “Todd.”

  “Well, he did.” Todd stuck a belligerent chin into the air. “I saw him. Gross.” He rolled out the last word as he clutched his gut, made gagging noises and pretended to faint onto the floor.

  “Poor Charlie. I feel so bad that it happened on his watch.”

  “Charlie’s old-school army.” Brett pressed a gentle hand to Tyler’s forehead. Not bad, he decided. “And raised three kids. He’s tough. Are you guys hungry?”

  Todd nodded, emphatic.

  Tyler paled. “No, thank you.”

  “Okay, sport.” Brett hauled the five-year-old out of the chair, sat down and cuddled the boy on his lap. The chair was not man-sized, he realized. Short in the leg and not broad-backed like his recliner at home. He turned this way and that, struggling to find a comfortable position. There wasn’t one.

  “Use the couch.”

  He turned.

  Haley’s look of understanding met him full force. She got it, he realized. And him. That he needed to be part of the child’s healing. His comfort. “Good idea.”

  He switched spots, stretched out, and he and Tyler watched a double-length feature of the Magic School Bus’s adventures in the human body.

  “This is my favorite part,” yelled Todd as the cartoon bus descended into the lower intestine.

  “I’m not watching,” Haley called out. “I’ve seen it twice already because gastrointestinal issues seem to fascinate little boys.”

  “The workings of the human body border on miraculous,” Brett called back, laughing. “And it’s good to know yourself.”

  “Not that much.” She poked her head around the corner. “I’ve got grilled cheese for you and Todd. You still feeling okay, Todd?”

  He rolled on the floor, dramatic to the end. “I’m fine. Stop asking me. Pwease.”

  “I expect he’ll tell us when he doesn’t. Or—” Brett’s gaze slid back to the descriptive small-intestine screen on the vintage TV “—we’ll have evidence to the contrary.”

  * * *

  He said “we’ll,” like his help was a given.

  Brett’s assumption made her nervous.

  It shouldn’t, but it did.

  His appearance into her life made things feel better. More complete. But she’d counted on folks before. Her father. Her mother. Her stepfather. All had let her down.

  He’s nothing like any of them.

  Haley recognized that, but she didn’t dare trust her instincts where men were concerned. In a life riddled by divorce and broken relationships, keeping her guard up simplified matters. But not around Brett, and that was becoming a concern.

  Her phone buzzed as she handed Brett and Todd their sandwiches. She stepped away, noted the out-of-town number and answered, puzzled. “Hello.”

  Nothing. Again.

  She stepped out the apartment door, hoping for a better signal. She’d gotten a call from this number the previous day and had let it go to voice mail, but the caller didn’t leave a message. “Hello?”

  Still nothing.

  Haley disconnected, went back inside and decided to check out the number’s location on the internet once the boys were in bed.

  “Trouble?” Brett gave the phone a quick glance as she reentered the small living room.

  “No one there.”

  He frowned. “Telemarketers shouldn’t have access to our cell phone numbers.”

  “I won’t argue that.” She sank to the floor with her sandwich. Todd curled up alongside her, and his presence made her feel like the day hadn’t been a total loss.

  “If you want to head over to the co-op and check things out, I’ll hang here with the boys. I know you’ve got concerns.” He didn’t mention tomorrow’s fire inspection per se, but she got the drift.

  “Several of the vendors promised to go over the list and double-check things. Make sure everything’s in order.”

  “But you’re dying to double-check.”

  She frowned, dismayed. “I am. And that makes me feel guilty, although why I should feel guilty about running a sound business that I’ve invested time, money and energy in is beyond me.”

  “The only way to make a man feel trustworthy is to trust him,” Brett quoted. “Henry Stimson, secretary of war under multiple presidents. Sound advice.”

  “Because trust breeds responsibility,” Haley noted.

  He grinned. “That’s my girl.”

  Such a simple phrase to make her feel so warm inside. Two weeks ago she’d have scoffed at the notion of being someone’s girl. Romance and trust hadn’t made her short list ever.

  Now?

  She colored just thinking of it. And Brett’s easy smile said he caught the reaction. She had a feeling not much got by a man like Brett Stanton and she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. But right now, with Tyler snuggled along Brett’s side, and Todd curled up next to her, her world felt good despite the sick kid and the pending fire inspection. “If I go over there, I look like I don’t have faith in them.”

  “Yes.”

  She contemplated that, then shrugged. “I’ll go first thing in the morning and double-check as long as the boys are doing better. Can you—”

  He cut off the request with a nod. “I’ll be here at eight. You go over and check things out. That way you can be sure to be ready for my noon inspection.”

  “Thank you, Brett. You don’t have to do all this, you know.”

  He turned, surprised. “Of course I do. We’re friends.”

  Friends.

  She liked being his friend. Having a friend. But she’d thoroughly enjoyed that kiss, and it wasn’t exactly a friendly peck on the cheek.

  He winked at her.

  Heat climbed her cheeks. Internal warning lights flagged her to slow down. Proceed with caution. The boys were vulnerable. Young. They’d already endured more than should be possible in their short lifetimes.

  She longed to talk things over with him, but with the boys awake, she didn’t dare. No way was she going to risk their losing anyone else, not if she could help it. She knew the merry-go-round of multiple parents and these boys had been through the wringer. No more.

  Once the boys were tucked into bed, Brett waved her to the couch. “You sit there. It’s more comfortable. Let me tell you what I found out today before I head to the store to close things out.”

  Guilt prickled her. “I’m sorry, Brett. I know you’ve got things to do. A business to run.”

  “I pay Charlie and LuAnn to do that, although I can’t say I mind helping out now,” he replied. “A lot of interesting folks travel the interstates these days. So.” He drew out a small notebook and tore out a page. “This is Dr. Jackson’s number. I set up an appointment for the boys for next Tuesday. They’re scheduled to see Katie Bascomb, the nurse practitioner. The court clerk called me back today and put us on the Surrogate Court schedule for Monday morning.”

  “And if they give me guardianship...”

  “Then we can either reimmunize the boys or do the blood tests. Either way, Tyler should be able to get in a couple of weeks of school before the Christmas break.”

  “Christmas.” She sent him a look of panic. “I have to figure out Christmas with the boys. I don’t even have a candle burning in the window. No wreath. No tree.”

  “Christmas isn’t all about decorations or gifts.”

  “I know.” She met his gaze. “But even if I don’t go over-the-top, it requires thought and timing. And I seem to be losing my grip on both these days.”

  “We have we
eks yet.”

  “Weeks of hopefully record sales next door,” she reminded him. “Although with Tyler in school and Todd in day care—”

  Brett cleared his throat. “About that.”

  “About?” She paused, puzzled. “What?”

  “Todd doesn’t need to go to day care.”

  “Sure he does,” she answered quickly. “I can’t watch him at the co-op, Brett.”

  “I’ll watch him.”

  Red flags sprang up throughout her brain. “No, you can’t do that. It’s too much.”

  “It’s not,” he countered. “I’m free. My business is being managed by two very capable people, my time is my own when I’m not helping cover for Bud Schmidt and if I get a fire call, I’ll have LuAnn or Charlie step in.”

  “Brett, I can’t let you do that.”

  “Why not?”

  Because I don’t trust men to keep their word? Because I can’t risk Todd’s feelings and involvement with you and have you wave goodbye to him a few months down the line? Because while I can handle business risk, I shy away from personal involvement?

  She’d sound like an emotional train wreck if she laid all that at his door. And she wasn’t. Being careful did not equal being neurotic.

  Although right now, facing his confused expression while she hesitated, she felt neurotic. And protective. And out of her league.

  He stood.

  So did she.

  “We’ll talk about this next week.” He moved to the door, and Haley had no trouble seeing the military carriage of the man before her. Back straight, shoulders tight, chin up.

  She’d just dissed a soldier which made her feel like a first-class jerk, but she needed time to assess things and every time she thought she gained a handle on her new responsibilities, something jerked the rug out from under her.

  “I’ll be here at eight, okay?”

  She nodded, wishing she’d had time to consider his offer, longing to take back her quick rejection. “Yes. Thank you.”