His Mistletoe Family

Home > Other > His Mistletoe Family > Page 13
His Mistletoe Family Page 13

by Ruth Logan Herne


  No.

  Haley was running scared. From what, he didn’t know, but he recognized the symptoms because they mirrored his own. He needed to show her his strength. Convince her of his investment. Let her see the man of honor inside the wounded soul.

  Which meant he needed to toughen up and get back in the game.

  Hesitation didn’t suit him. As a young soldier, that had caused an occasional problem. Now?

  He cleaned up, threw his smoke-filled clothes into the washer, called Charlie and set a plan in motion. Regardless of how she’d end up feeling about him, she needed his help. And the boys needed his time and efforts. Being with them made him feel just plain good about so many things.

  He remembered the little boy from the night before. Of how close his parents came to losing their son. The dog, faithful to the end. The accident victims gone, leaving grieving families behind.

  “No one knows the day or the hour,” proclaimed Matthew in his Gospel. But reasonable people should understand the inevitable, pushing them to live each day to the full. Starting now, Brett was determined to do just that.

  * * *

  Haley’s phone buzzed just after a nonexistent lunch. The number display made her hopes rise, but she knew better, didn’t she? “Brett?”

  “Haley.”

  His deep voice made her remember that kiss. The way Brett whispered her name.

  Earth to Haley. Simple, right? At his request.

  She almost forgot, but she heeded the warning for two very good reasons. Well, three. Todd, Tyler and herself. “What’s up?”

  “Todd just came down with the stomach bug.”

  Oh, no.

  “He’s fine here,” Brett went on. “You don’t have to leave work, but I knew you’d want to know.”

  “Brett, thank you, but Charlie and LuAnn can’t be watching sick kids.”

  “I’ve got them at my place. We were, um...” He paused as if searching for words, then continued, “The boys and I were planning a covert deployment but our battle plan was thwarted by legions of intestinal bacteria.”

  “Ugh.”

  “I can’t disagree.” But he laughed when he said it, as if it wasn’t the end of the world. “Anyway, he’s resting here at my place, I washed the smoky-smelling stuff so the house smells better, and he’s watching Road Runner cartoons on DVDs because Charlie thought the boys’ humor education was sadly lacking.”

  “I love Road Runner,” Haley told him. “I love old cartoons. The new ones are just not funny. With the exception of Phineas and Ferb. Tyler found it for me, and it’s hysterical.”

  “We’ll have to watch it sometime,” Brett promised. “Oops. Gotta go. Round two. See you tonight.”

  He didn’t wait for her to reply. Correction: He couldn’t wait for her to reply and she frowned in commiseration, imagining the sick little boy and the big guy.

  He sounded better. Rested. More like the man she’d first met.

  By the time she locked the co-op’s door after an amazing day of sales, she was pumped to go home and see Brett. Talk to him. Hug little Todd and be reassured that he was fine.

  Charlie greeted her at the door. He read her expression and shrugged. “Brett had a firehouse fund-raiser meeting for the Christkindl Celebration next week. He does the food for the fire department’s chicken and biscuits booth.”

  Right now, chicken and biscuits sounded like haute cuisine. Her gut rumbled in reply to the images in her brain. Soft, puffed biscuits with crispy, golden tops, soaking up puddles of gravy. Tender pieces of white meat, flavored just so.

  She fought back a sigh. “How’s Todd doing?”

  “Much better. He’s sleeping. Tyler, too. They got tuckered out between the morning baking marathon and an afternoon of cartoons and the dog.”

  “They love that dog.” Haley tiptoed across the room and peeked into the bedroom. Both boys lay sleeping, covers kicked off, bed tousled. The sight made her smile. In repose they were positively serene.

  Awake?

  Adorable, but not serene. She backed away from the door and refaced Charlie as he said, “Mother and I love that dog, too. It near broke our hearts, the idea of giving him up, but then Brett came back to town and we realized God put us at a crossroads.”

  “Literally and figuratively.” Haley nodded in the direction of the Crossroads Mini-Mart. “And then He put me on the scene.”

  “And them boys.” Charlie moved forward, gave her a quick hug and stepped back. “‘To everything there is a season....’”

  “A favorite verse of mine,” Haley admitted. “But how do you know when it’s God’s plan and when it’s just pure old temptation?”

  “You pray,” Charlie said simply.

  She’d been remiss in that. So busy depending on herself, she forgot to lay her trust in God. Charlie made blind faith sound easy.

  It was anything but.

  “When is the Christkindl Market?” she asked.

  “Next weekend at the VanAlmeter place across from the park. There’s things for kids to do, old-fashioned games, and people take sleigh rides through the park. Once it gets dark, folks drive through the west end of the park for the Festival of Lights. It’ll probably put a bite in your business,” he noted as he turned for the door. “But only on Saturday.”

  “The co-op can actually benefit if the market brings folks to town,” she assured him. “They’ve got to drive right by us to get on the interstate, and I’ll bet half the folks stop for a look, because the co-op’s that pretty.”

  Charlie grinned. “It’s a sight for sore eyes to see that old place up and runnin’ again. Your grandpa and great-grandpa sure loved the work they did in that factory back in the day. They were good men, Haley.”

  She hadn’t known Great-grandpa, but Grandpa Bennington had been a “port in a storm” kind of guy, and she’d loved him. That made his bequest all that much more important. She’d waited over a decade to be in a position to do something with the old factory and showroom, but she had no regrets. Except the current time crunch.

  “’Night, Haley.”

  “Good night, Charlie.”

  He ambled down the steps, his gait unsteady. The slush had frozen into chunked ice and she watched, concerned he might fall. He made it to his car safely, waved and turned the small vehicle toward Jamison.

  She’d hoped to see Brett. That hadn’t worked out. But the thought of his working on a major fund-raiser to supply Christmas baskets for the needy and toys for children...

  The guy had no clue how special he was. Did she?

  She hoped so.

  * * *

  A knock on the door woke her ninety minutes later. Confused, she sat up.

  The knock came again, probing. Insistent. But light, as if not wanting to wake the boys.

  She frowned at the door, wishing she’d had the contractors install a security viewing hole. But she’d cut corners on the apartment to allow more funds for Bennington Station. Right now, with someone on the other side of that door in the dead of night, she’d have gladly paid the extra fifty-nine dollars.

  “Haley, are you awake?”

  Brett.

  Relief washed over her. She hurried to the door and gently turned the lock.

  He still looked tired, but then so was she and she hadn’t fought a fire in the predawn hours. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, thanks.” He strode in with purpose, carrying a toolbox, his gaze moving left and right. Then up and down. He crossed the living room floor and quietly opened the door to the bedroom. Removing a penlight-sized flashlight from his pocket, he scanned the bedroom ceiling, nodded and closed the door. “Good.” He turned to face her.

  “What’s good?”

  “Smoke detectors. One in the kitchen, one in the bedroom. Now we just nee
d one here.” He pointed up to the ceiling, then pulled a new smoke detector unit from the toolbox. “This will take only a few minutes.”

  “You’re doing that now?” Her voice squeaked, imagining the boys waking up, tumbling out of bed, excited to see Brett. She and the boys had a lot in common, but she bit back the sigh that thought inspired. “It’s almost eleven. You really think this is a good idea?”

  “Yes.”

  He withdrew a small battery-operated drill and retrieved a kitchen chair to give him enough lift to reach the ceiling.

  “You’ll fall.”

  “Not if you hold the chair.”

  Did he mean it? She held the chair in any case, certain that if he tumbled she’d be dealing with two little kids all night long. “This couldn’t wait?”

  He shook his head, marked two holes for the mount, repocketed the pencil and drilled two precision holes in less than a minute. He reached out a hand. “Phillips-head screwdriver bit.”

  “Huh?”

  “The little top with an x on it.”

  “You could have just said that.” She bent and rummaged through the box. “This?”

  “Smaller.”

  “Ah.” She grasped a tinier version. “This one.”

  “Perfect.” Their hands met as she handed him the drill bit and his smile...

  Oh, that sweet, crooked smile...

  Made her insides flutter. Her breath catch. And because she couldn’t breathe or think, she let her fingers linger in his hand for long seconds, their gazes locked.

  He winked, grabbed the bit, installed it onto the drill and had two tiny screws in place within seconds. He handed her the drill and said, “Hand up the alarm box.”

  He was bossy.

  So was Haley.

  He didn’t take orders well.

  Neither did she.

  “Thank you.” He grasped the unit and with one firm twist settled it in place. “I tested the alarm before I came in so I wouldn’t wake the boys.”

  “Good thinking.” She waited while he climbed down, then carried the chair back to the kitchen. “But why now? Why at—” she eyed the clock, sighed, groaned and turned

  “—eleven-fifteen at night?”

  “Fires don’t read clocks.” He tucked his tools back into the case and shrugged into his jacket. “And after last night, I wouldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep knowing you might not be fully set up over here. So it was either sleep on your icy, frozen steps in the cold—”

  She winced, knowing the steps were treacherous.

  “Or head over here and get this done. That way we’d both lose a little sleep, but I figured if it was a shared inconvenience, it wouldn’t be that bad.”

  “Thank you, Brett.” She contemplated him, then took a half step forward. “I want you to know I appreciate everything you do.”

  Her words sounded stiff. He looked instantly uncomfortable, so she closed the rest of the distance between them, determined to have her say. “What I meant to say is that I’m grateful. Trust has never come easy for me. I pull back and that makes things difficult.”

  “Relationships, you mean.”

  “Yes.”

  He mulled her admission, then said, “They don’t have to be, Haley.”

  She paused, then admitted, “I tend to make them that way.”

  “So stop.”

  His straightforward gaze said it should be that easy. Haley knew it wasn’t, but she nodded and grasped his hand. “I’ll try harder. I think the Holy Spirit is giving me a series of wake-up calls in any case. First you, then Maude, then Charlie.” She shrugged. “Our own faults are often the hardest to see.”

  His expression reflected the truth in her words. “I’ve been a loner all my life.”

  “In the army?” She let disbelief color her tone. “Neat trick.”

  “Being surrounded by people doesn’t make you less alone,” he countered.

  Haley knew that firsthand.

  “But I don’t want to be on the outside looking in anymore. I’ve already let too much life pass me by.”

  “You’re a hero and a patriot. That doesn’t sound like you let too much get by,” she protested.

  His eyes softened. “Thanks for that, but you know what I mean. You and I have self-protective tendencies that push us apart while there’s an attraction that draws us closer.”

  His accurate assessment only made her heart beat faster. “So... What do we do?”

  His smile strengthened her. “See where it goes. As long as neither one of us chickens out.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she told him firmly. And even if she was afraid to take a chance, she made up her mind to conquer the fear because fear was never of God.

  “Me either.”

  “Well, then.” She stuck out her hand, feeling a little silly, but it felt right, too, like they’d just made a pact. “Let’s shake on it.”

  “If that’s the best you can do,” he told her. The gleam in his hazel eyes said he had other things in mind, but he shook her hand with quiet authority before he picked up his toolbox and moved to the door. “I’ll be back in the morning for the boys. We’ve got a mission to complete and I’m determined that nothing will foil our plan of attack as long as Todd feels better.”

  “Charlie said he was much better this evening.” She followed him to the door, wondering if he might stop and kiss her.

  He didn’t, and now she wished she’d sealed their agreement in a more personal way, but he turned at the bottom step and gave her a quick salute. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  Sleep?

  After she’d just spent twenty delightful minutes with a man whose strength and warmth drew her? Haley was certain she wouldn’t sleep a wink, but her eyes went to the newly installed smoke alarm as she reached to turn out the light.

  He wanted them safe. That small action said more than any sonnet. She fell asleep, more peaceful than she’d been in years.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A new day, another chance to get a jump on Operation Decoration, but just as Brett aimed for the door to pick up the boys, his mother called.

  “Brett?”

  “Hi, Mom.” He forced calm into his voice. There was no rushing Joanna Stanton. “Do you need a ride today?”

  “No.”

  But she only called when she needed a ride. Which meant... “Have you stopped going to AA?” He didn’t add “again,” but he thought it.

  “No,” she replied, surprising him. “Sue Connealy has been driving me. I’ve gone every day. She’s got her five-year pin and she’s stable. I decided I wanted to hang around people with more success in the program.”

  Brett loved the sound of that, but did she mean it this time? “Well, do you need to go shopping? I’d be glad to take you.” He didn’t add that he was thrilled to talk to her sober, to hear the normalcy in her voice, to touch base with the mother he’d known for so short a time. “After I get the boys, that is.”

  “Are you watching them today?”

  “Yes.” He faltered for a moment. Good behavior should be rewarded, but inviting his mother to accompany them? Good idea? Bad? He wasn’t sure, but waded in. “I’m taking them shopping for Christmas decorations as long as the little guy’s feeling better. He had that stomach bug going around. Would you like to come with us? Help me shop?”

  “Really?” She paused. Her breath went unsteady. “That would be all right?”

  “I may have directed thousands of troops in my day, but you’ve got more experience with little boys. I’d enjoy the help.”

  “Well.” The recognition invigorated her voice. “I do love getting things ready for Christmas.”

  Did she? Brett had no recollection of that, but the past was best left buried. He’d
made mistakes of his own. So had she. They both needed to move on. “I’ll be over there in about half an hour. And feel free to spend the day with us.”

  “Okay.”

  The joy in her tone took Brett back to the few stints of moderation she’d known. Sober, she was lovable. Drunk? Not so much. But if she could turn that corner again, cling to abstinence, well... He’d appreciate the chance to know her that way again.

  He took Haley’s bumpy steps two at a time a few minutes later. When she opened the door, he spotted Todd grappling with Tyler on the living room floor. He cocked his head, aimed a smile at the wrestling boys and made a cryptic observation. “Feeling better.”

  “I don’t know how kids do it,” Haley answered as she shut the door. “Amazing recuperative powers.”

  “So it would seem.” He shifted his attention to her and tried not to gawk at how pretty she looked. She’d braided her hair. He’d never seen it that way and the pulled-back style accented her heart-shaped face. Those big blue eyes. The softness of her touchable skin.

  “You look more rested,” she noted, her voice serious. “And I want to thank you again for the smoke alarm.”

  He grimaced. “It probably seems silly to have come over that late because nothing happened overnight, but—”

  “Not silly at all,” she told him. She handed off the boys’ jackets. “It was nice of you to think of us.” Her hesitation said she’d given thought to his actions. “To care about us.”

  It was his turn to waver. Should he explain his actions? Share the anguish of the previous night? His protective side longed to keep her untouched by danger and darkness, but keeping secrets didn’t seem so important anymore. “We fought a bad fire two nights ago.”

  She nodded, quiet, as the boys wrestled on.

  “It was about three hours after we extricated two victims from that bad crash on I-86.”

  She winced. “Oh, Brett. I heard about that on the radio. They died.”

  He fought the threatening shadows, knowing their best hadn’t been enough to rescue those victims. “Yes. We knew they were bad, but you always hope you’ve gotten there in time.”

  She watched him with a quiet look of compassion. A look that said Haley Jennings was strong enough to hear whatever he might have to say. “Four hours later a call came in for a house fire just this side of Birdsall. I was the first one on-scene.”

 

‹ Prev