by Ann DeFee
Father hadn’t been making idle threats; he’d had Matt arrested. Everyone in the De Luca family must hate her, and she couldn’t blame them. “I have no idea what to say, other than I am so sorry. I thought he was just venting. I never thought he’d actually do anything that vile.”
“I guess he wasn’t. Venting, that is.”
“Yeah, well, uh, did anyone at school miss me?” Her segue lacked finesse, but it was a question she’d always wanted to ask. For some reason, embarrassment or whatever, she hadn’t worked up the nerve to talk to any of her old friends.
Matt flashed a wry smile. “Believe me, news of your dramatic exit went through the Boston Arts Academy like wildfire. There were all kinds of rumors. If I’d known you were skiing in Switzerland while I was picking up trash on the freeway, I’d have been a pissed-off puppy.”
The entrance of a dark-haired toddler with a red bow sitting askew on her curly locks saved Honey from having to respond. The child, a tiny female version of Matt, was blessed with his gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes. Honey’s fingers itched to paint a portrait of this child. She was a Botticelli cherub in the flesh.
“Uncle Matt, I’m hungwy,” the little girl proclaimed, climbing into Matt’s lap and putting her arms around his neck.
Uncle Matt?
So if he wasn’t her dad, what was he—her guardian or her babysitter? And why was it relevant? Silly girl—it mattered because she was dying to know if he was married. What if he was still single? Just the thought sent Honey’s heart into an uncharacteristic barrel roll. Please God, he wouldn’t notice the red tinge creeping up her neck.
“This is Mary Margaret. We call her M&M.” He kissed the top of the child’s head. “Sweetheart, say hi to Miss Campbell.”
“Hi, Miss…Uh.” She got Matt’s attention. “Who’s she?”
“Her name is Honey. She’s an old friend of mine,” he answered.
“Oh.” The toddler quickly went on to a more interesting topic. “I saw Santa outside.”
Matt blew a raspberry on her neck. “Santa doesn’t come for two more days, remember?”
“Nope, he was here,” M&M said emphatically.
“Okay.” Matt’s acquiescence obviously made her happy. She hopped off his lap and scooted over to Honey, holding her arms out in the universal signal for “pick me up.”
Honey’s heart almost broke. If things had been different, she and Matt could have a precious child like this one. Until that moment, she hadn’t quite realized how much she wanted children.
Honey knew miracles in the twenty-first century were rare, and the chances of experiencing one would be…well, it would be a miracle. But if magic existed, what better place for it to happen than the Magic Tree Farm at Christmas?
CHAPTER THREE
Children were unfamiliar territory, but holding M&M seemed as natural as breathing. “How does your wife like living this far out in the country?” she asked, cuddling the toddler.
Obviously, Honey’s question wasn’t as subtle as she’d thought—not if Matt’s sexy grin was any indication. She surreptitiously checked his left hand. He wasn’t wearing a ring, but that didn’t mean anything.
“No wife, it’s just me, the kids, the dog and a two-hundred-acre Christmas tree farm. Between work and the children, I don’t have much time for a social life,” he continued. “If we’re not trimming trees, we’re planting or cutting or something. We send our products all over the East Coast. In the fall we open our retail store and cut-your-own-tree operation. It keeps me busy and I love it. You can’t tell with all the snow, but we have a spectacular view of the White Mountains.”
“I thought you wanted to run an art gallery,” she blurted out. Wondering where her research had gone wrong.
“I owned a studio for a couple of years, but when I inherited the farm I knew it was time to leave the city. This is a family operation and as a kid I spent my summers here. Way back when my uncle Pietro came over from the old country, he wanted to start a winery. But that didn’t work, so he decided to grow Christmas trees instead. He was a smart old goat,” Matt said with a grin.
“My brother took over when Uncle Pietro moved to assisted living. That’s when I started spending more time out here helping him. Learning the business, so to speak,” Matt said with a shrug. “I have a degree in business and I’m interested in agriculture, so the transition wasn’t that hard.”
“I didn’t know your family owned a farm.”
Matt looked at her in a way she couldn’t quite interpret. “There were a lot of things we didn’t discuss. I suspect our minds were elsewhere.”
Wasn’t that the truth!
“Come on, snookums, let me get you washed up. Then I’ll fix you some dinner.” Matt held out his hand and Mary Margaret obediently ran to him. “You can help me introduce Miss Campbell to the rest of the crew.”
“Then she can watch pwincesses wif me.”
Matt shrugged when Honey glanced at him for help.
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Sit here,” M&M said, pulling Honey toward an inviting couch.
How could Honey resist? She was destined to enjoy the dancing princesses. In the Disney film, the prince and princess found true love, but Honey knew from experience that happy endings rarely occurred in real life. The prince of her dreams—the one who probably wanted to toss her out into the blizzard—was about ten feet away flipping grilled cheese sandwiches. Although he was polite and superficially friendly, Honey was pretty darned sure she wouldn’t make his Christmas card list.
Matt walked to the bottom of the stairs and yelled, “Kids, come down for supper.” A lone screech indicated that the message had been received.
“We’re pretty casual around here.” He stacked a pile of plates on the kitchen island. “We normally have a housekeeper but she went to Florida for Christmas. So we’re on our own.
“Kids,” he called again and was rewarded by a noise that sounded like a herd of elephants stampeding toward their favorite watering hole.
“Out of the way, jerkwad.”
That feminine command was answered by a young male voice. “You can’t make me,” he said in singsong fashion.
Matt grinned. “Another day in paradise.
“Hey, you two, cut it out,” he ordered as the children tumbled down the last two steps. “I want you to meet someone. Try to act civilized for a minute, please.”
Honey was an only child, so she wasn’t an expert on sibling rivalry, but for some reason this seemed normal. There wasn’t any blood and Matt didn’t appear to be distressed—that was good. It took a second for the combatants to realize they had an audience. When they did, they lapsed into silence.
“How did you get here?” the dark-haired boy asked.
“Before you start grilling our guest, don’t you think you should meet her?”
“Yes, Uncle Matt. I’m sorry.” A twinkle in the kid’s eye belied the sincerity of his apology.
During the introductions, Honey discovered that Colleen was thirteen, Patrick was nine and M&M was three. She also found out that when Matt’s brother and his wife had died in a car crash, Matt was left not only the farm, but also a ready-made family.
The fact that he’d dropped everything to become the children’s guardian told her that Matt was the same wonderful person she’d loved at seventeen. But their relationship had been a lifetime ago, and while she knew she still loved him, he seemed ambivalent about her. And who could blame him?
The meal was unlike anything Honey had ever experienced. M&M spilled milk all over her sister, precipitating a full-blown teenage meltdown. Patrick wanted peanut butter instead of grilled cheese. Sweet Pea took begging to new heights, and Matt seemed oblivious to all the antics.
But somehow it felt right. Honey had dedicated so much of her life to her career that she was afraid she’d missed out on the truly important things—family, home and someone to love.
Fortunately, before she could get really depressed, M&M spoke up, breaki
ng the spell. “Santa Claus was here. He browt Miss Honey,” she announced in a display of kiddie wisdom.
“No way! He doesn’t come till Christmas Eve,” Patrick declared.
Did the boy really believe in Saint Nick, or was he was protecting his little sister’s innocence?
“He was. I saw him out the window.” M&M was adamant. “Wasn’t he?” She patted Honey’s face, expecting an answer.
“Sweetie.” Honey cupped the toddler’s chin. “He was just a man with a snowmobile.”
“No.”
When she crossed her arms over her chest, it was all Honey could do not to laugh.
“It was Santa,” the child said with conviction.
Oooh-kay. Matt could deal with this.
“I’m a little curious, too. Why don’t you tell me more about how you ended up here?” Matt asked.
Honey hesitated a moment, considering what to say. “I was on my way to my friend’s ski lodge in North Conway, and, oh my gosh, I’ve got to call Bitsy to tell her I’m okay.”
He indicated the phone on the wall. “You’d better give her a buzz before the lines go down. Your cell won’t work in this blizzard.”
She made a quick call to Bitsy explaining her predicament, but she chose not mention the identity of her host. During their year as roommates, Bitsy had heard more than her share of Matt stories.
After Honey had finished, she came back to the table and continued her narrative. “I got stranded in the snow and the next thing I knew, there was a man tapping on my window.”
“You didn’t see him drive up?” Matt asked.
“No.”
“Tell me again what he looked like.”
The three children listened with rapt attention.
“He was wiry and had this gnarly beard.” Honey chuckled, thinking about her rescuer. “He was wearing a red down jacket and had a do-rag under his helmet. Best of all, he was driving a snowmobile decorated like Santa’s sleigh.”
“Sounds like a Willie Nelson wannabe to me,” Colleen said.
“No way. Santa doesn’t look anything like Willie Nelson. The guy must have been one of Santa’s elves.” That pearl of wisdom came from Patrick.
“Like, duh. Do you think an elf would be caught dead in a do-rag?” Colleen commented with a smirk.
“Kids, let her finish.”
Honey was impressed with the way Matt responded to his niece and nephew. “I hadn’t thought of him resembling Willie Nelson, but, yeah, I suppose he did,” Honey said with a smile. Leave it to a kid to nail it.
For a moment, Matt looked puzzled. “Actually, that description reminds me of my uncle Pietro, but he’s been gone almost ten years. It must’ve been…” He was obviously about to say Santa, but Honey cut him off with a nod toward M&M.
“It must’ve been one of the men from the fire station. They do all types of rescue work,” Matt said. “We’re glad you’re here, aren’t we, kids?”
Honey was glad, too. In an incredible twist of fate she was stranded with a man she’d loved forever. Things could have been much, much worse.
CHAPTER FOUR
Honey couldn’t help wondering how her rescuer had managed to find her. Even Rudolph—the super reindeer—couldn’t make his way through a New Hampshire nor’ easter.
But also curious about more mundane matters, Honey broached another subject. “Does your power usually stay on during a snowstorm?”
In unison, Matt said, “Sometimes,” Colleen tossed in an “Are you kidding?” and Patrick expressed a decisive “Nope.” M&M obviously didn’t have an opinion concerning New Hampshire Power and Light.
As if their conversation had been an omen, everything suddenly went dark.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got it under control. I’ll start the generator. Kids, you know your assignments. Honey, would you watch M&M while we get everything headed in the right direction?”
“Sure, we’ll be fine. Won’t we, M&M?”
She giggled in reply.
Several minutes later, Matt returned with a load of firewood while Colleen arranged a display of candles. Not to be outdone, Patrick retrieved several camp lanterns from the pantry and placed them on the kitchen island. It was efficiency perfected by practice.
“We use the woodstove for heat. Although it’s nice and warm down here, it gets mighty cold upstairs,” Matt said.
“Frigid is more like it,” Colleen threw in.
He laughed at his niece’s observation. “Yeah, it is. I have a generator, but I primarily use it for the industrial freezer we have out in the store. My latest business venture is in its infancy, but so far, we’re on a roll. Last summer I started a wholesale operation proiding frozen fruit pies for some of the biggest supermarkets in Boston. It’s become something of a cottage industry for the whole comunity. Several of my neighbors have orchards and their wives love to bake. It’s a win-win situation,” Matt said with a grin. “I have the house appliances wired into the generator, but that still leaves us without lights. I hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”
She actually thought it was rather romantic. That, however, wasn’t something she was willing to share, so she decided to go with an innocuous comment. “It’s kind of homey.”
Her response drew a snort from Patrick.
“It’s a pain in the rear and it happens all the time.”
“Patrick,” Matt admonished.
“Well, it is. I can’t play with my Xbox.”
“You are such a dork,” his sister responded.
“And you’re—”
“Okay, guys, that’s enough. Polish up your company manners.”
“Okay, Uncle Matt.” Patrick appeared properly chastised.
Colleen’s muttered “Whatever” indicated she might not be quite as compliant as her brother.
Honey could tell by M&M’s heavy breathing that she’d drifted off.
“M&M’s asleep.”
“Why don’t you give her to me. I’ll put her to bed.”
She reluctantly handed Matt the sleeping child. “What do you do for entertainment when the lights go out?” she asked the two older children, who were watching her suspiciously. As unfamiliar as she was with little ones, she was even more out of her element with pubescent and prepubescent creatures.
“We play poker,” Colleen said with a straight face.
Patrick nudged his sister. “Uncle Matt taught us how to play Texas hold ’em. Do you know how?”
“Not really. Maybe you could teach me.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll get the cards.” Patrick hopped up, retrieving two decks and a huge jar of pennies.
Honey watched the process with trepidation. She was beginning to feel as if she’d jumped into a shark pool. But how hard could it be to gamble with a couple of kids? Two hours later, she’d not only lost her pile of pennies, she was also deep in debt. She owed Colleen a manicure and was scheduled for several hours of Nintendo with Patrick.
“You should’ve told me they were pros.”
Matt shrugged. “When you live out in the country with an iffy power system, you get resourceful.”
“Why didn’t you play cards with them?”
“Are you kidding? I’m too smart. Okay, kids, it’s time to close the casino. Then you need to get ready for bed.”
Colleen and Patrick trudged up the stairs, grumbling all the way.
“I can’t let Sweet Pea out in this blizzard by herself, so I have to take her to a little sheltered area we have in the backyard.” Sweet Pea bounced in anticipation when Matt picked up the leash. “We’ll only be gone a few minutes. I’ll show you our guest accommodations when I get back.”
Honey wandered aimlessly around the family room. It was an inviting place, perfect for a busy family. She could imagine cuddling up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a good movie. This house was light years away from her professionally decorated, and somewhat sterile, condo.
“Okay, that’s done.” Matt was brushing snow off his shoulders. They were such ni
ce broad shoulders, Honey thought. Matt as a teenager had been enticing, but as an adult he was every woman’s fantasy.
“Let me grab your bag and then I’ll take you upstairs.”
Honey presumed her duffel was still sitting in the hall. When she’d first seen Matt, she’d completely forgotten about her luggage. Good thing her rescuer had reminded her to bring it or she’d be stranded without a toothbrush or clean undies.
“Thanks, that’s fine.” They’d reverted to formality, which was ironic considering she’d give up her considerable 401(k) for the opportunity to snuggle under a fluffy duvet with Matt De Luca. So what did that say about her? That her life wasn’t fulfilling, or that she’d never gotten over him? More than likely it was a little of each.
“Here we go.” Matt handed her a lantern. “You’ll need this.”
Honey followed her host upstairs wondering how things had gone so wrong all those years ago. Was it possible to rekindle the feelings they’d had for each other? That was a question she couldn’t answer. She could only hope that this was her second chance at happiness.
CHAPTER FIVE
In a world of unlikely scenarios, having Honey Campbell show up on his doorstep definitely fell in the “are you kidding me” category. True, he’d kept track of her through the years, but long ago Matt had decided to work on the once burned, twice shy theory of self-protection. So, even though they lived in the same city, he’d kept his distance.
What should he do now? The woman of his dreams—and his nightmares—was sound asleep upstairs. Morning had dawned, and the blizzard didn’t show any signs of abating—and that meant she’d have to stay here with him and the kids. Mama mia!
Matt was trying to think of something—anything—he could do to preserve his sanity while also tamping down his libido. Then reality in the form of a crash intruded.
