Jimmy’s face was radiant as he stood onstage in the Christmas play, and said, “Do you see the star?”

A surge of love overwhelmed Evan. He hadn’t thought he had that much love left in him after he’d lost his wife and son. But his heart told him there was room for Jimmy.

Evan made his way to where he had seen Chloe sitting. Jimmy ran from the stage straight to her. She knelt, giving him a huge hug. Getting closer, he could hear her praising his performance. “You were the very best one!”

He bounced on his sneakers. “Really?”

“Really!” She hugged him again. “The very, very, very best.”

Jimmy hugged her back hard before finally letting go.

“You haven’t told me what you want for Christmas yet, big guy.”

“A family.”

She leaned her head against his. “Me, too.”

Evan was struck by their words. The star on the stage twinkled, beaconing its message of hope. And he wondered if he dared believe.

BONNIE K. WINN

is a hopeless romantic who has written incessantly since the third grade. So it seems only natural that she turned to romance writing. A seasoned author of historical and contemporary romance, Bonnie has won numerous awards for her bestselling books. Affaire de Coeur chose her as one of the Top Ten Romance Writers in America.

Bonnie loves writing contemporary romance because she can set her stories in the modern cities close to her heart and explore the endlessly fascinating strengths of today’s women.

Living in the foothills of the Rockies gives her plenty of inspiration and a touch of whimsy, as well. She shares her life with her husband, son and a spunky Norwich terrier who lends his characteristics to many pets in her stories. Bonnie’s keeping mum about anyone else’s characteristics she may have borrowed.

Jingle Bell Blessings
Bonnie K. Winn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Behold, children are a gift of the Lord.

—Psalms 127:3

For our beautiful Liberty Winn

Born April 18, 2010

Contents

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

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Chloe Reed gripped little Jimmy’s hand as much to stop her own shaking as to reassure him. Everything was on the line. The boy’s future, her own. Swallowing, she tentatively raised the brass knocker on the massive front door.

Silence.

She bent down to encourage Jimmy, and whispered, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

The door whipped open suddenly and she nearly teetered. Unnerved, she looked up, way up, to meet a dark pair of unpleased eyes. Set in a rugged face with a determined chin, his eyes swept over her in uncompromising dismissal.

Awkwardly, Chloe straightened up, expecting to meet him face-to-face, but he was tall, unusually tall. “Um…hello.”

“Yes?”

“I’m here to see Evan Mitchell.”

“You’re looking at him.”

“Oh.” She’d held a wild hope that she’d knocked on the wrong door. Despite her boss’s warnings, she had wanted to believe that Evan Mitchell would be approachable, reasonable.

“I’m Chloe Reed.” Wishing she could shield the little boy, she squeezed his hand again. “And this is Jimmy Mitchell.”

Eyebrows as dark as the man’s thick hair swooped downward. “What are you doing here?”

Wanting to protect the seven-year-old, Chloe beseeched the man with a pleading glance.

Relenting, Evan opened the door wider. “Come in.”

She and Jimmy both stared as they walked into the circular, two-story-high entry hall, their steps echoing on the marble floor of the impressive house.

Evan hadn’t expected his late cousin’s son to appear on his doorstop, but he didn’t want to hurt the boy. Raising his voice, he called for the housekeeper. “Thelma! Can you come out here?”

Wiping her hands on a cheery gingham apron, a pert woman in her sixties dashed into the hall. “What is it? I’m in the middle of pie making and…” Her voice trailed off when she saw Chloe and the boy, her face easing into a smile. “Who do we have here?”

“Spencer’s boy,” Evan replied briefly.

Thelma’s eyes widened, then warmed in understanding as she spoke to Jimmy. “Do you like apple pie?”

Uncertain in his new surroundings, Jimmy looked at her warily, taking a step backward, leaning against Chloe.

Thelma walked toward him, extending her hand. “I’ve got lemon meringue, pumpkin, cherry and banana cream, too. I sure could use a taster.”

Jimmy looked up at Chloe, who nodded. Accepting Thelma’s hand, the pair disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Evan wished he could whisk the woman away as easily, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Instead he gestured toward the parlor, observing the swing of her long, wavy, caramel-colored hair as she walked. Once in the room, she turned, her large green eyes questioning.

“Have a seat.”

As she did, he wondered what his late cousin’s attorney was up to now. Sending a pretty woman was novel, even for Holden Wainwright.

“Miss…?”

“Reed,” she supplied nervously. “Chloe. Call me Chloe, please. I work for Holden Wainwright. I’m his…that is, I’m the estate representative for Jimmy’s parents.”

He’d guessed as much. “What are you doing here?”

“Mr. Wainwright wants what’s best for Jimmy. Your cousin and his wife didn’t have any immediate family who could take care of him. And Mr. Wainwright himself is an old bachelor—he doesn’t have a clue about raising a young boy. That leaves you.”

“Wainwright knows how I feel about that.”

Her face filled with distress, darkening her already unusual eyes, pulling down the edges of her full lips. “He does?”

“Oh, come now, Miss Reed—”

“Chloe,” she corrected, staring at him in shock.

“Miss Reed, we aren’t going to get to know each other well enough to worry about first names. I told Wainwright I wasn’t going to change my mind. And I’m not.” The thought of growing close to another child… The pain nearly choked off his breath. And his voice was gruffer than usual because of it. “You’ve come on a fool’s errand. I can’t say whether you’re Wainwright’s pawn or a schemer yourself. Doesn’t matter. You can sort that out with Wainwright when you’re back in Milwaukee.”

Chloe found her voice. “It’s taken us forever to get out here. The flight from Milwaukee to San Antonio took two plane changes. Then driving way out here to Rosewood…and you expect us to just turn around and head back?” Some of her distress had vanished, leaving fire in its place. “And I’m supposed to tell Jimmy what? That the only relative he has on this continent doesn’t even want to get to know him?”

Evan watched as the quivering in her neck spread to the hollow at the base of her throat.

She stood abruptly, pressing her hands together. “How do you live with yourself?”

Bleakly. “We aren’t in the time of Dickens, Miss Reed. There are no workhouses, no orphanages. Spencer left the boy a trust fund that’ll guarantee his future.”

“The boy’s name is Jimmy. And all the money in the world can’t replace his parents.” She gestured toward the rest of the comfortable room. “Since your father is alive and living here, you obviously can’t understand that kind of trauma.”

Evan’s throat was so tight it was a wonder any oxygen could pass into his lungs. Trauma. A trendy term, like closure. As though such a thing existed. The hole in his heart would never heal, certainly never close. Not since he’d lost Robin and Sean. He crossed the room so he could look out the tall, wide window. A rental car was parked in the circular drive. So that much was true. “And what do you know about trauma, Miss Reed?”

“Enough,” she replied evenly.

Turning his back to the faceted panes of glass, he watched the sunshine illuminate Chloe’s face. Wainwright was playing hardball. Sending a woman Evan couldn’t ignore. At least that’s what the old horse trader thought. “I doubt that. What are you, twenty-four, twenty-five?”

“Actually, I’m twenty-seven. But—”

He held up one hand. “No need to get in a one-upmanship contest. Not even the most tragic tale’s going to change my mind, Miss Reed. I’m surprised you didn’t learn more about the situation before you agreed to bring Jimmy here. I haven’t seen Spencer since we were teenagers. Hardly a close relationship that would warrant any reason to appoint me the boy’s guardian.”

“Jimmy,” she emphasized. “And to repeat myself, Jimmy doesn’t have anyone else.” Chloe took a breath. “He’s alone. You’re his parents’ choice as guardian. Have you no compassion?”

Evan met the woman’s unrelenting stare. His compassion had drowned along with Robin and Sean. But he didn’t feel the need to spill those details to a stranger. The deaths of his wife and son were sacred, not to be bandied about for this woman’s benefit.

Chloe stood as well, crossing the room, planting her petite frame in front of his. “I’m not suggesting it’s an easy obligation. But surely you can see the sense in having Jimmy stay for a while, to see if the arrangement will work.” She steepled her fingers together, the criss-cross pressure making them whiten. “The estate will pay for my services during the transition.”

His humorless chuckle was bitingly sarcastic. “Two for the price of one? Am I supposed to believe that’s a good deal?”

Thunder clashed across her face and for a moment it looked as though she was about to launch a tirade. Instead, she tugged at the jacket of her prim, navy blue suit, then tightened her hands further. “I don’t believe you should be thinking of Jimmy in terms of a deal. But if that’s the only emotional barometer you possess, then I’ll tell you that it is a first-rate deal. Jimmy’s kind, unspoiled, loving. And he’s just had both of his parents blown to smithereens in a factory explosion.”

Not stopping to let him speak, she held up her hands, ticking off her points. “One grandfather’s dead. One grandmother is in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s. His other set of grandparents are on a dig in Egypt and suggested we put him in a boarding school.

“You knew Spencer. Do you think he’d want his son to have the same kind of lonely life he did? Crying himself to sleep because the other boys went home to their families for holidays and he stayed behind, hurt and alone? Spencer told Mr. Wainwright that his only good memories of growing up were here, in Rosewood, with you and your family. Don’t you think his son deserves to be happy?”

Evan’s gaze narrowed, his suspicions growing as he studied her. “Sounds like you’re pretty chummy with Wainwright.”

“I’m in his employ. You should know that Mr. Wainwright was more than Spencer’s attorney. He and Spencer’s father were best friends. After Spencer’s father died a few years ago, Mr. Wainwright did his best to step into a father’s role, to give Spencer some semblance of a parent.”

Evan still didn’t know what she had to gain by talking him into a guardianship, but it wasn’t going to happen. “Then perhaps he ought to step into the grandparent role now.”

She quieted for a moment, then her ocean-green eyes held a clashing combination of sadness and ferocity. “Mr. Wainwright’s health is not…” Chloe took another breath. “He’s had heart problems—three surgeries so far. He doesn’t think it would be fair to Jimmy to take him in and then…” Clearing her throat, she met his gaze. “And regardless of his health, Mr. Wainwright doesn’t know anything about little boys. He’s never had children of his own. However, he does know that Jimmy needs more than an ailing elderly acquaintance or a soulless boarding school to be happy.”

Evan knew the amount of love little boys needed. He didn’t want or need a reminder. Five-year-old Sean had filled his heart and life. The emptiness was a piercing, never-ending reminder. Looking away from Chloe, he saw the shadows on the front lawn lengthening. Chloe could hardly drive to San Antonio in the fast-approaching darkness. And Rosewood’s only bed-and-breakfast was full because of the approaching holidays.

Holidays. Little boys and holidays. The combination used to fill him with joy. Now the dread was inescapable. Still, he couldn’t, in good conscience, turn Spencer’s boy and this woman out in the night. “Dinner should be ready in about an hour. Thelma will show you to a guest room.”

Chloe’s delicate features brightened.

“Just for the night,” Evan cautioned. “I haven’t changed my mind and I’m not going to.” Wainwright could send a dozen beautiful women and it wouldn’t matter. His ability to love a child had died with his son. And there was no resurrecting it.

Chloe found herself tiptoeing as she wandered past the entry hall. After Evan Mitchell’s rather abrupt dismissal, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. He had mentioned dinner and staying the night. Should she bring in their suitcases? No, she told herself. Plunking them on the floor of the immaculate entry or parlor seemed like a terrible idea, especially since hers was a Salvation Army classic. And she wasn’t sure where the back entrance was.

Jimmy hadn’t emerged since the kind-looking woman had led him away. The scent of sweet fruit and browning pie crust melded with savory vegetables and something else. Beef? Maybe it was stew.

Chloe’s stomach growled. “Just like one of Pavlov’s dogs,” she muttered to herself. She could read a highway sign announcing the next Dairy Queen and suddenly be swamped with a craving for ice cream.

“Chloe?” Jimmy questioned, his voice floating out from deeper in the house. Even from the distance, she could hear the anxiety coating his words.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Thelma added in a louder voice. “Down the hall to the left. Just pass through the dining room.”

Chloe followed her directions, pushing open a swinging door at the end of a long passageway. For a moment she thought she’d stumbled into the kitchen of the Keebler elves. Bright bursts of color caught her attention, pulling her gaze to the limestone counters, the cozy eating nook, the massive stove.

Several pies cooled on the wood sideboard in front of the slightly opened window. Despite the charm of the room, Chloe wanted only to see Jimmy, to make sure he was all right.

She placed an arm over his shoulders. “How we doing, big guy?”

He scooted close to her without replying.

And Chloe wished she could make everything better for him.

“That young man is a super worker,” Thelma told her, winking at Jimmy. “Helped me roll out the pie dough.”

Chloe squeezed his shoulder. “That’s great, Jimmy! I’ve never been able to make a decent pie crust.”

“Cold water’s the secret,” Thelma continued as though they were old acquaintances. “Ice cold. Otherwise the shortening melts down, makes it tough and the crust falls apart.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” She bent down, closer to Jimmy. “You getting hungry?”

“I’m afraid I’ve given him quite a few samples of the pie fillings,” Thelma confessed. “I knew something was off with the banana cream. So we had to taste that one at least three or four times.”

“It was good,” Jimmy finally offered.

“It smells delicious,” Chloe agreed with a smile for the older woman. “Do you always make this many pies at a time?”

“We have a bake sale every year to raise money for the Angel Tree.” She paused, then quieted her voice. “It’s for the holidays, you know.”

Chloe guessed the fund was to buy toys for children who wouldn’t get them otherwise. And she appreciated Thelma’s discretion around Jimmy. He’d had more than his share of untimely discoveries.

“Since Evan didn’t introduce us, I’m Thelma, the housekeeper. My husband, Ned, is the… well… he’s pretty much the everything-else man. Keeps up the gardens, the cars, whatever needs fixing.”

“I’m Chloe Reed. I work for Holden Wainwright.”

Thelma started to reach out her hand, then realized it was covered in flour. “Pleased to meet you. And I’ve thoroughly enjoyed meeting Jimmy. Ned’s eaten so many of my pies over the years, he automatically says they taste good no matter what I put in them. The Mitchell men don’t like their pies too sweet and Jimmy here helped me balance out the lemon meringue.”

Jimmy wasn’t distracted, though. His expression was pensive, anxious, worried. And Chloe felt sure he must be exhausted. As kind as Thelma seemed, she was another stranger.

“Would you mind if we walk around the grounds?” Chloe queried.

“Fresh air might do you both good.” Thelma dusted the flour from her hands, then wiped them on her apron. “Back door’s right over here. You’ll find doors in most every room on this level—French doors open out from the front room. And upstairs, there’s even a door that leads out and down the staircase from the bedrooms. There’s three sets of stairs in the house.” She pointed to the one in the kitchen. “We call this one the back stairs. Used to be just for the servants. As for all the doors, I guess a few hundred years ago people felt they might need to get away in a hurry.” She chuckled. “There I go, running off at the mouth. Takes a little while to get the feel of the place, but then it seems right homey.”

“I’m sure it is,” Chloe agreed, edging toward the door.

Thelma smiled. “There’s a nice swing out back. Actually two. One on the porch, another under the oak tree. Can’t miss either.”

“Thank you.” Chloe still gripped Jimmy’s hand as they stepped outside. The air was clean, tinged with the faint aroma of burning leaves. She guessed that out in the country people didn’t have to worry so much about air pollution.

“Let’s find the one under the tree,” Chloe suggested. As Thelma had said, it was easy to see the glider swing. It sat beneath a tall oak tree that had already lost many of its leaves. Jimmy clung to her hand as she guided him to the cozy-looking spot.

Once seated, Chloe gently urged the glider into motion. “We can rest before dinner if you’d like to.”

“Then what?”

Immediately, she wondered if the child had guessed or overheard Evan’s intentions. “Then we’ll be all stuffed and we’ll get a good night’s sleep.”

“Here?”

“Sure, big guy. That’s where we are.”

Shoulders hunched, Jimmy’s head dropped forward, his shiny hair nearly obscuring still-childish features. “I like sleeping in my own room.”

A room he would never again occupy. The house was being sold, along with the majority of its contents. Only photos and sentimental items were being boxed up for storage. All of Jimmy’s life, all of his memories. The thought dried her throat, stung her eyes. But Jimmy didn’t need sympathy. He needed someone strong to lean on. If that wasn’t going to be Evan Mitchell, that left only her. Despite being solely responsible for her mother’s care, Chloe couldn’t abandon this boy. Even if it meant taking on a forceful, obstinate man like Evan Mitchell.

Dinner was more formal and somber than Chloe expected. Thelma served them in the dining room, then retreated to the kitchen to eat dinner with her husband. And Evan Mitchell wasn’t a very entertaining host. He sat at the head of the table, while she and Jimmy faced each other across the long, banquet-sized table.

Thelma had served them each generous helpings of stew, along with freshly baked biscuits.

“Thelma’s oven must stay busy,” Chloe ventured. “She was making pies and now these biscuits.”

“Umm,” Evan replied so sparsely, he might not have even spoken.

Chloe smiled encouragingly at Jimmy, then tried again. “I understood that your father lived here with you.”

“It’s the family home. We share it.”

“Isn’t he joining us?”

Evan looked annoyed by her questions. “He’s hunting quail with friends out near the Markham ranch. They make a day and night of it.”

Chloe dipped her spoon into the savory stew. “This is delicious. Don’t you think so, Jimmy?”

He scrunched his narrow shoulders together, the sweep of his dark hair hiding his eyes. “Guess so.”

Trying to lighten the glum atmosphere, Chloe took some butter for her biscuit. “Have Thelma and her husband been with you long?”

“Curious, aren’t you?” Evan replied. Then he glanced over at Jimmy. “They’ve been here as long as I can remember.”

“Came with the house?” she questioned, hoping to infuse some cheer into the conversation.

Evan looked at her as though she’d suggested swallowing a bucket of mud.

“Just kidding, of course,” she tried to remedy. “I haven’t had any experience with household employees.”

“They’re not just employees,” he replied sharply. “They’re family.”

Chastened, Chloe stirred her spoon aimlessly. “Of course.” If not for Jimmy, she would have fervently wished for a hole to appear in the floor so she could vanish.

Silence reigned, interrupted only by the scrape of spoons against the bowls. The clinking of china when a coffee cup was returned to its saucer. The last time Chloe had felt this uncomfortable at a dinner table, she’d been twelve years old and painfully aware of the boy sitting across from her. He was fourteen and she had a terrible crush on him. In turn, he considered her a complete nuisance. Seemed she hadn’t progressed much from then.

Thelma eventually cleared their dishes and then brought in dessert plates. “Lemon meringue,” she announced. “Had some good help making this one. Wasn’t hard to decide which one to keep for dessert.”

Jimmy glanced at the housekeeper, a furtive, slightly pleased look.

Thelma winked back at him.

Chloe wished the width of the table weren’t so broad. She would have liked to squeeze his hand in encouragement. Instead, she smiled at him. Lifting her gaze she caught Evan studying them.

He didn’t blink. The woman didn’t act like a mere estate representative. Which made him that much more distrustful. Evidently, she stood to profit if she convinced him to accept the guardianship. Wainwright had the funds.

And the old guy had always held a soft spot for Spencer. After the explosion in their newly refurbished factory, Spencer’s wishes had been presented. And Wainwright had pled his case as though Spencer were a son rather than the son of a friend.

Committed to placing Jimmy in the Mitchell home, Wainwright may have offered Chloe quite a sum to succeed. Why else would the woman have traveled across the country with no guarantee of how she would be received?

Thelma rustled around the large bedroom as Chloe stared first at the tall ceilings, then the intricate moldings and charming bay window. She gently touched the delicate lace curtains as she admired the four-poster bed and marble-topped dresser. “The room’s lovely,” she murmured. “It’s really a guest room?”

“Evan’s mother decorated every room on this floor. The men didn’t want her changing the rustic stuff in the den and the parlor’s stayed pretty much the same for generations.”

“She’s passed away, hasn’t she? Evan’s mother?”

Thelma stopped plumping the pillow she held. “Adele died… several years ago, now. And…” She stopped abruptly.

Chloe knew that Evan was single. Mr. Wainwright had given her a brief sketch about him. Evan ran the family business, in fact, devoted all of his time to it. Could that be why he was so insistent about not taking on Jimmy?

Thelma laid the pillow at the head of the bed, then checked the growing flames in the fireplace. “Gets chilly this time of year. Family had central heat installed back when Mr. Gordon, Evan’s father, was a boy. But when the wind’s howling, it’s awful nice to have a fire.”

Standing next to a wide chaise that was angled by the fireplace, Chloe agreed. “I love a good fire and I haven’t had a fireplace of my own in… well, a long time.” Not since the family home had to be sold.

Thelma crossed the room to an archway containing a door. “This opens into Jimmy’s room. It used to be the nursery.”

Chloe peeked inside, seeing that he was still fascinated by the interesting little room with its slanted ceiling, nooks, arches and cushioned window seat that overlooked the widow’s walk surrounding the upper story. “He may have trouble sleeping tonight. He’s had a lot of… changes.”

“Mr. Gordon told me all about Jimmy when the lawyer wrote. Poor little tyke. We all hoped Evan…” Thelma sighed. “Mr. Gordon’s too old to take on raising the boy himself. Wouldn’t be right for Jimmy if…well, if Mr. Gordon couldn’t see him all the way through ’til he’s old enough to be on his own.”

Chloe thought she heard a thread of worry in the woman’s voice. “Is Mr. Mitchell ill?”

Thelma shook her head. “He wouldn’t retire until a few years ago. Worked hard all his life. Too hard. A boy needs parents who can keep up with him.”

“That’s how Mr. Wainwright feels, too. When I’m taking care of Jimmy, I have to stay on top speed myself.”

A knowing smile lit Thelma’s eyes. “I’m guessing you don’t mind that too much.”

“He’s a wonderful little boy.” So much so that Chloe knew she would have to rein in her feelings. A huge part of her wished she could just take him back to Milwaukee, raise him as her own. And that was impossible. “Thelma, would it be too much trouble to make some hot cocoa?”

“Course not. I’ll bring it up directly.”

She didn’t want to cause the woman more work. “I’m happy to come and get it.”

Waving her hands in dismissal, Thelma tsked. “Don’t want to hear another word about it. You just get the little one settled.”

Chloe exhaled in relief. Thelma was proving to be an ally. “Thanks.” As Thelma left, Chloe knocked lightly on the connecting door frame to Jimmy’s room. “Mind if I come in?”

“Uh-uh.” Jimmy sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the large window. Still dressed in his best clothes, as though waiting for something that would never happen, he looked completely, inescapably alone.

“Know what I was thinking?” she asked in an encouraging voice.

He shook his head.

“We could get in our jammies, scrunch up on this amazing chair in front of the fireplace in my room and tell stories.” Chloe wriggled her eyebrows. “Might even be some hot cocoa in the deal.”

“My dad used to read me a story every night and Mommy would sing.”

Chloe sat down beside him, putting her arm around his shoulders. “You know, I seem to remember packing a few of your favorite books.”

Leaving him to change into his pajamas, Chloe did the same. By the time she’d tied the sash on her thick, fluffy robe, she heard a light knock on the door. Expecting Thelma, she whipped open the door with a smile.

Evan Mitchell’s muscular frame filled the doorway and his forbidding expression sent her smile plummeting.

“If you need anything,” he began uncomfortably. “Just ask Thelma.”

Chloe clutched her pink robe, excruciatingly aware of the matching bunny slippers on her feet. Trying to tuck them backward just pulled his attention toward the embarrassing footwear.

Straightening her shoulders, she tried to look as businesslike as possible. “We’re fine, thank you.”

He didn’t reply.

Unnerved, she tried to think of something else to say, to distract him, to remove his all-too-male presence. “Thelma’s making us some hot cocoa.”

“Right.” He glanced down the empty corridor.

Chloe fervently wished Thelma would make an appearance.

But the hall remained empty.

“I’ll say good night then,” Evan finished.

“Good night.” Rattled, Chloe shut the door and retreated to the burgundy velvet chaise. Not that she needed the heat from the fire. Touching her cheeks, she confirmed they were warm and no doubt bright red. Oh, yes. Evan Mitchell had seen past her professional facade. All the way to her pink bunny slippers.

Chapter Two

The fire was dying down and their cups of cocoa were empty. Chloe had read three of Jimmy’s books, told him several of her favorite stories and he was finally nodding off. It had been an eternally long day for her. She could only imagine how it had tired him. But the little guy didn’t complain. Instead, he had cuddled close on the chaise, listening to the stories, and trying to stay awake.

Certain that he was ready for bed, she scooped him up from the lounger.

“I’m not sleepy,” he mumbled, his head falling on her shoulder.

“I know, big guy. We’ll just rest for a while.” Chloe carried him through the adjoining door into the nursery. Thelma had made up both the child’s bed and the single bed nearby. Chloe gently deposited him on the smaller bed. Then she grabbed his stuffed dog, Elbert, and laid it close. Pulling the sheet and handmade quilt up to his chin, she kept her voice low. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

Jimmy’s eyelids were drifting closed, but he struggled to keep them open. “Don’t go.”

“Okay.” She sat on the edge of his bed, softly singing one of the Irish lullabies her mother had sung to her when she was little.

Chloe hummed the chorus again, watching until finally the gentle rise and fall of his chest told her that Jimmy had nodded off. Quietly she returned to her room, leaving the door to the nursery open. Warmed by the dwindling fire, she crossed over to the bay window. Old-fashioned streetlights—that she guessed had been converted from oil—softly illuminated the brick-paved street below. She hadn’t imagined such quaint places still existed. As she studied the engaging landscape, she spotted a lone figure walking up the lane. When the man reached the Mitchell home he turned and headed to the tall oak on the knolled rise of the lawn.

Unable to take her eyes from the man, she glimpsed his face when he stepped beside the gas light in the yard. Evan Mitchell. She shouldn’t be surprised. After all, it was his home. Continuing to watch, she saw him sit on a stone bench that curved around the tree. Evan just didn’t seem like the sort of man to take solitary nighttime walks. Fleetingly she wondered if he was cold.

Not that it should matter to her. His behavior had been utterly frigid. Still, she wondered why he sat alone, what drove him out in the chilly night. Wisps of clouds drifted, allowing some moonlight to filter downward. Evan looked up in the direction of the light. His expression was so bleak, Chloe’s hand flew to her mouth to stop an automatic cry of distress. What was troubling him so deeply?

Not that he would confide in her. Nor should she want him to. Evan was the enemy, the man who decided Jimmy’s fate. But the part of her that always reached out to others refused to stay quiet. Was it possible that Evan had issues that she needed to learn? Issues he had to resolve before accepting a child in his life?

The questions stilled. Because Evan Mitchell dropped his head in his hands. And Chloe couldn’t intrude on his private moment any longer.

Even though the soft feather bed was incredibly comfortable, Chloe couldn’t sleep. Literally tossing and shifting in the bed, she’d twisted the sheets and lace crocheted coverlet into a tangled mess. But sleep was impossible with the mass of conflicting thoughts racing through her mind. Hearing a sudden cry, she bolted upright. Remembering the small set of wooden stairs beside the mattress for climbing in and out of the tall bed, she clicked on her lamp so she could find them. Untangling herself from the covers, she grabbed her robe and raced into the adjoining room.

Jimmy was sitting up in the bed, looking terrified.

Immediately, Chloe reached out to pull him into her arms. Rocking him back and forth, she imparted all the comfort she possessed. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You’re safe. I’m right here.” He shook with a convulsed sob and Chloe’s eyes filled. If only she could take his pain for him. Rubbing his back, she held him until he was finally still. Pulling back slightly, she smoothed the dark hair from his forehead. “Was it a dream?”

He nodded, a jerky motion. “And when I woke up I didn’t know where I was.”

“I wasn’t having much luck sleeping either. I’d probably go to sleep faster if I wasn’t alone.” She rubbed her chin as though in deep concentration. “Do you suppose I could sleep on the extra bed in here? It would really help me out.”

This time when he nodded, he looked up at her with relief in his big brown eyes.

She eased the tears from his cheeks with her fingers. “I know I’ll feel safe in here with you.”

He sniffled.

“Okay, better get that bug snug again.” He dutifully laid back down and she tucked him in. “If it wouldn’t keep you awake, I’d kind of like to keep the little light on.”

“It’s okay,” he agreed gratefully.

She smoothed his hair once more. “Thanks.”

Climbing into the bed she guessed once belonged to a nanny, Chloe actually did feel better. She had been worried about Jimmy being alone, frightened in the strange house. She smoothed the blanket in place, leaving her arms out. Now, if she could just get Evan Mitchell out of her thoughts. Sighing, she realized that wouldn’t be nearly as easy.

Early morning sunlight invaded Chloe’s face. Scrunching her eyes, she reached for the sheet to cover them. Awareness hit at the same instant. Immediately, she looked at Jimmy’s bed. It was empty. Fear filled her chest. Surely he hadn’t run away. He didn’t know anyone in Rosewood.

Blinking, she focused again and saw his pajamas thrown across the bed. Next to them was his stuffed dog, Elbert. Jimmy wouldn’t have left his treasured friend behind.

Although reassured, she dressed quickly so she could look for him. Evan Mitchell wouldn’t welcome a curious, roaming child in his house.

Once downstairs, she headed toward the kitchen, but paused when she heard voices in the dining room. Walking slowly, she approached the group.

“You must be Chloe,” a gray-haired man boomed in a deep voice. He stood up, keeping Jimmy close to his side.

“I’m Gordon Mitchell, Evan’s father. Sure pleased to have you here.”

Surreptitiously glancing around, she didn’t see Evan, and relaxed. “Thank you.”

Thelma poured another mug of coffee and handed it to Chloe. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Very well, thanks. It’s a beautiful room.” She glanced at Gordon. “A beautiful house.”

“Too empty, though.” He patted Jimmy’s shoulder. “Need some young energy to fill it up again.”

Unwilling to discuss Evan’s refusal in front of Jimmy, Chloe sipped the bracing brew.

Jimmy knelt down. “Did you see the dog, Chloe?”

A calm golden retriever seemed delighted by Jimmy’s attention, waving a beautifully plumed tail and pushing his muzzle into Jimmy’s hand.

“I don’t remember seeing him yesterday,” she mused.

“Bailey was with me,” Gordon explained. “Hunting. But he pined for Evan the whole time.”

“He’s Evan’s dog?” Chloe asked in surprise.

“Bailey’s usually camped out by Evan’s side, clinging like thistle. Jimmy’s pretty special to have tempted him away.”

“French toast this morning.” Thelma winked at Jimmy.

“Thought I might find somebody who’d like it.”

“Sounds great.” Chloe slipped into a chair. “How did your hunting trip go, Mr. Mitchell?”

“Best part of it is the guys. We tell the same stories we’ve told each other for the last fifty years, and now that we’re getting on, some of ’em even sound new again.” His dark eyes crinkled with kindness.

Although she could see the resemblance between the two generations of men, Gordon exuded warmth, friendliness. Chloe wanted to relax, but she was still facing a major confrontation.

The thought apparently conjured up the man in question. Evan stalked into the room, crossing over to the sideboard to pour a mug of coffee. Bailey jumped up and ran to his side. Evan rubbed the dog’s head. As he did, Evan turned, his gaze narrowing first on Chloe, then Jimmy and finally his father.

Thelma pushed open the door from the kitchen, holding a large platter. She placed the French toast in the middle of the table. “Eat it while it’s hot.”

Chloe turned to Jimmy. “Looks good, doesn’t it?” Hoping Evan wouldn’t open with an argument, she speared one piece.

Gordon passed the pitcher of warm syrup. “Thelma dusts the toast in powdered sugar, but I still like my maple syrup. How ’bout you, Jimmy?”

“I like syrup,” he replied in a tiny voice.

Knowing Jimmy was nervous, she patted his leg. “Me, too.”

Evan continued to stare at his father.

Gordon met his son’s gaze, his voice deceptively casual. “I was just about to invite Chloe and Jimmy to stay for a while. Won’t be long ’til Thanksgiving. Holidays are always better with children, more family.”

A vein in Evan’s muscular neck bulged, while his lips thinned into an angry line. He pushed back his chair, scraping it loudly over the wide planked floor as he rose. “I have to get to work.”

His boots rang loudly as he left, and the sound of the door slamming echoed through the house. Bailey whined, then laid down next to the front door, apparently waiting for his master.

“Did I make him mad?” Jimmy asked in an even smaller voice.

“Of course not!” Chloe rushed to reassure him. “He probably has problems at work that are on his mind, that’s all.” She glanced at Gordon. “It’s a family business, isn’t it?”

Gordon nodded. “Mitchell Stone. My great-grandfather started the quarry with not much more than a land claim and a box of dynamite. A few men agreed to work with him in exchange for shares in the company. A lot of their descendants are fourth-generation employees now.”

Chloe glanced upward at the elegant chandelier, just one of the impressive fixtures in the obviously expensive home. “So your family built all this up themselves?”

He chuckled softly. “First house wasn’t much more than a tar shack. The way I heard it, my great-grandmother threatened to dig enough stone out of the quarry herself to build a decent house. But in time, they built a small wood cottage—it’s the carriage house we use for a garage now.”

“I think Thelma mentioned that you’re retired?”

“Yep. Evan’s in charge now.”

Chloe swallowed, hating to pry, but needing to know as much as possible about Evan. “Is that a good thing?”

“He lives and breathes work. Since the recession, Evan’s done everything he can to keep the place together so no one loses their jobs. It’s a Mitchell trait, I suppose.” Gordon absently tapped his fingers against the tabletop. “Feeling responsible. Can’t let go when…”

Chloe waited quietly.

But Gordon glanced up, reined in his memories and lifted a mug of coffee. “So, it’s settled. You and Jimmy will stay here. I’d like to show you around town. See the school, the church. People are friendly in Rosewood. Not much like a big city.”

“Milwaukee’s not small, but it is down to earth,” Chloe replied. “Kind of the best between a small town and a big city.”

“You have family there?”

Chloe nodded, thinking of her mother, worrying about her.

“My father passed away when I was in junior high school. My younger brother, Chip, is in the army—he and his family are stationed in Germany. And my mother lives in an extended care facility. She has COPD—it’s a chronic pulmonary condition. Because of it, she can’t live on her own. If she had a bad episode and no one was around, it could be…” she glanced down at Jimmy, then up to meet the understanding in Gordon’s eyes. “Since I work full-time, it’s safest where she is.”

“Much extended family?”

“They all live pretty far away in the rural part of the state. But Milwaukee still clings to its ethnic roots. We have areas that are primarily German, Romanian, Hungarian. Makes neighborhoods friendly.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Rosewood has neighborhoods like that?”

He smiled. “Pretty much the whole town. We’re a dying breed, but we don’t cotton to superstores, tourist traps. So far, we’ve been able to keep them out. The news always says mom-and-pop businesses can’t survive, but they do here.” Gordon chuckled. “Sounds like I’m about a century old with my reminiscing.”

Chloe was liking him more and more. “I noticed the town was pretty when we were driving through.” She lowered her lashes, trying to hide some of her anxiety from Jimmy. “But I was too nervous…driving in an unfamiliar rental car to pay very much attention.”

“Then we need to take care of that.” He turned to Jimmy, who was adding even more syrup to his plate. “What do you say? After breakfast, we check things out?”

Jimmy appeared shy but pleased.

While she was looking forward to their tour, Chloe didn’t know how it was going to help matters. The look in Evan’s eyes that morning had said it all. He wasn’t about to change his mind.

Evan studied the latest financial report. Mitchell Stone was sinking as though pummeled by its own boulders.

Perry Perkin, their chief financial officer, shoved both hands in his pockets. “Numbers won’t get any better by staring at them.”

“Yeah.” But he had to turn around the profits. The employees depended on him, most were like family. “Construction business is picking up. Got two new orders this week.”

“Small ones. Evan, you know they aren’t going to carry the payroll.”

“Recession hit everyone, Perry. It’ll take time for bigger deals to roll in.” Mitchell Stone had operations all over the hill country and in other parts of the state. Even though most of Texas hadn’t been hit as hard by the recession as the rest of the country, new construction was still down. And many of their orders had been national as well as international, customers that still remained on shaky ground. “We’ll make the payroll.”

“If you keep putting your personal money in the business, you’ll tank when it does.”

“If, not when.” Evan plowed his fingers through his hair, then looked out the window at Main Street. “You know we’ve had our offices in this building more than a century. My great-grandfather didn’t want to confine himself to one quarry, so he insisted on having an office right in the middle of town. That’s why he kept looking for more sources, staking more claims all his life. Then my grandfather and my father. And there was a little thing called the Great Depression that happened along the way. But Mitchell Stone never closed its doors. I don’t intend to let it happen on my watch.”

Perry was empathetic but realistic. “You know as well as I do, that the first decade of this millennium wasn’t hit by just a recession. It was a depression.”

“Plattville is accepting bids next month on their new courthouse. If we can get a lock on who wins the job…” Speculating, Evan knew Mitchell Stone would be one of dozens interested in supplying the limestone.

Perry sighed. “Look, I’ve got some savings. More than my shares in the company. I’ll cut my salary down to just enough to cover my health insurance.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I’m in charge of payroll. Be pretty hard to stop me. And, I can just about guarantee that everybody else would understand a cut in pay. In fact, they would support the idea, so we don’t have to close.”

“No. Let’s take it slow. Holidays are just about here. I’m not taking Christmas dinner out of any mouths.”

“You’re a good man, Evan.” Perry sighed. “I’m just not sure you know when to say no.”

Chapter Three

“No!” Evan looked exasperated as he spoke to his father.

Gordon put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “If you don’t have time now to show Jimmy the quarry, we’ll do it another day.”

Chloe held her breath, hoping the men wouldn’t argue.

“Course I could do it myself…” Gordon continued. “Not sure I still have my keys to the outer gates, though.”

Evan rolled his eyes heavenward. “I’ll fit it in this week or next. Don’t you have enough to keep busy today?”

Gordon rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, I do have a doctor’s appointment….”

Chloe choked back unexpected laughter, coughing to cover the sound. Gordon had told them he had a checkup scheduled with the foot doctor. He sure was milking the excuse for all it was worth. And clearly it was working.

Concern filled Evan’s face. “You didn’t tell me.”

Gordon shrugged, his face on the verge of woeful. “You’ve already got a lot on your mind.”

Evan glanced at his father, then plunked a pile of papers down on his desk. “You want me to take you to the doctor?”

Clearing his throat, Gordon shook his head. “Not necessary.”

Reluctantly, Evan shifted his gaze to Chloe. “I’ll show them around the quarry. But I can’t spend all day.”

Chloe knew his last words were directed at her. “I’ve never been to a quarry before.”

“I’ve never met any women who wanted to before.”

Tension bubbled through the air like hail stones.

“So that’s settled.” Gordon turned to leave. “I’ll see you all back at the house.”

“I told you I can’t…” Evan didn’t bother to complete the sentence since his father was walking away without listening.

“Spend all day,” Chloe completed for him. “Jimmy and I understand, don’t we, big guy?”

Jimmy, looking intimidated by Evan, nodded tentatively.

For the briefest moment, Evan’s countenance turned utterly bleak. He shook the expression off as quickly as it had formed, then picked up his phone, punching in a few numbers. “Perry? Push the meeting with Alsom back two hours.” He listened a few moments. “Oh yeah, I’ll definitely be back in time for the bank.”

Chloe got the message. The visit would be brief, but any time Evan spent with Jimmy would help.

Outside, parked in front of the building, were a few shiny new SUVs and three double-cab trucks. At the end of the row was a beat-up pickup truck. Since all of the vehicles were emblazoned with Mitchell Stone logos, Chloe trailed behind Evan waiting to hear the chirp of doors unlocking.

When he paused in front of the ragged old beater, Chloe couldn’t help staring.

Evan walked to the passenger door and opened it.

Jimmy immediately tugged on her hand. “You get in first, please?”

Since he drew out please like a deathbed request, she reluctantly scooted over to the middle position in the single cab.

While Evan slid in front of the steering wheel, Chloe scrunched over as close as possible to Jimmy.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Evan backed out on to the lazy Main Street. Even though it was near noon, not much traffic flowed through the quaint downtown area that looked as though it had stayed primarily the same since Victorian times.

“Swell truck,” she commented.

He darted a glance, obviously gauging her sarcasm. “It was my grandfather’s.”

“It’s nice.”

The corners of his mouth curled down.

“That you kept it, I mean,” she added hastily. “A lot of people just want the newest model. I think sentiment’s more important.”

“Hmm.”

Chloe had already figured out that he wouldn’t be easily convinced of anything. Apparently, Evan was equally economic with his words.

As they rolled out of town toward the quarry, the old truck bumped considerably. One especially large bump thrust her against Evan’s shoulder. Feeling as though she had hit heated rock, Chloe drew back, immediately scooting toward the passenger-side door.

“Ouch,” Jimmy squeaked.

“I’m sorry! I was…concentrating too much on the landscape.” At the moment she couldn’t have guessed if they were surrounded by mountains or desert.

“You mean the trees?”

Feeling smaller than the child at her side, she tried to look unaffected. “Pretty aren’t they?”

Actually they were. Leaves had transformed into clusters of color. Standing next to sentinel green pines, this was the beautiful Texas hill country she’d heard so much about. But the squiggle in her stomach didn’t have anything to do with the surroundings—the nonhuman ones, that was. Still feeling the impression of Evan’s shoulder against her arm, she wanted to touch the spot, to see if the fire she’d felt was external. Ridiculous, she knew. A grown woman practically melting by the accidental brush of a man’s arm. A very handsome man’s arm.

“We’re not far,” Evan announced.

Still ruminating on her reaction, again she overreacted, jumping when he spoke. “Well… that’s good then.” At this rate she would reduce her conversational skills to a first grader’s level.

“Look!” Jimmy poked her as his voice threaded with something close to excitement.

Chloe followed his gaze. A beautiful horse trotted in a field, lifting its head in a royal motion.

Evan didn’t take his eyes from the road. “He’s an Arabian. Belongs to the Markhams.”

“That’s a neat trick,” she commented. “How did you know without looking?”

“This is my home,” he explained simply.

“Still….”

“At the curve, there’s an old oak that’s got more notches on it than an outlaw’s gun. One of them’s mine. Most everybody in town’s hit that oak when they were learning to drive. Luckily, the tree’s over far enough that no one’s run into it straight on.”

How could a man who obviously cared about his home and employees have absolutely no compassion for a parentless child? Burdened with the thought, Chloe didn’t ask any more questions as Evan drove farther from town. Jimmy, still intimidated, didn’t speak either. And Evan clearly wasn’t going to initiate a conversation.

In the quiet, Chloe saw much more of the gently rolling hills, the yellowing of wild grass, the last wildflowers struggling to survive despite the bite of late autumn. The hill country really was a beautiful place for the holidays.

Back home, they would have a wintry cold Thanksgiving and a guaranteed white Christmas. She wasn’t missing the weather. Or her job. Just her mother. And Barbara Reed had been insistent that Chloe accept this assignment. Still, she was so used to caring for her mother…visiting her in the long-term recovery facility, spending every spare minute with her. Intensely aware of the thousand-plus miles that separated them, Chloe sighed.

“Something wrong?” Evan asked.

Again, his unexpected speaking startled her. This time her hand flew to her throat to disguise the rapid pulse that must be visible. “No… of course not.”

“Hmm.”

How did the man run a business when he barely spoke? Feeling the opportunity, she cleared her throat. “Actually, I was thinking about my mother. Missing her.”

Evan took his eyes from the road. “Then why’d you come all the way out here?”

Because she needed the money Mr. Wainwright had offered to continue paying for her mother’s care.

Jimmy looked up at her and she smiled for his benefit. “I wouldn’t miss this adventure for anything.”

Evan snorted. “Adventure?”

“Sure, neither of us has ever been to Texas.” Chloe struggled for something benign to say. “Or a quarry.”

This time when he glanced at her, she met his dark eyes, sustaining the gaze. Despite the disbelief lurking in their depths, she felt the same as she had when she’d bumped into his shoulder. Silly but….

Chloe swallowed. She hadn’t experienced that kind of reaction to a man since her ex-fiancé, Derek, had dumped her. Must just be nerves, she told herself. That, and knowing how much was riding on her swaying Evan Mitchell to change his mind.

Still, she straightened up, holding her body rigidly in place. And kept herself in that position until they neared a large sign indicating the quarry. Unexpectedly excited, Chloe leaned forward when Evan turned off the main road. Bumping over the rutted dirt road, dust billowed behind them in a dark cloud. Evan didn’t slow down. Clearly the pitted road was familiar to him, so familiar he knew its ups and downs, its twists and curves.

Not surprisingly, the small office, barely more than a shed, was built of limestone.

“Is the quarry in that building?” Jimmy asked in a disappointed voice.

Evan chuckled, startling Chloe and Jimmy. “Nope. It’s the big pit we’re driving to when we switch vehicles.”

Transfixed by the difference in Evan when he smiled, Chloe didn’t pay attention to the quarry until Jimmy poked her arm, pointing out the large slabs of stone literally everywhere.

Chloe tried to think of something intelligent to say; she reverted to the familiar. “Do you sell stone from this office?”

“Small jobs like home remodels. All the commercial orders come through the main office.” He pulled the truck up close to the small building.

“Is the quarry nearby?” Chloe asked, as curious as Jimmy.

“We’ll grab a buggy to get over there.” Evan got out of the truck and disappeared.

Chloe wriggled her eyebrows at Jimmy. “Sounds cool.”

He loosened up slightly. “Evan doesn’t even sound mad at me.”

Chloe’s heart pinged and she impulsively wrapped her arms around him. “He isn’t mad at you, honey. If anything, he’s mad at himself.”

“How come?”

Yes. Why? “Because he’s the sort of man who’s used to being in control, in charge, like at his company. And, when Evan’s in unfamiliar territory…he’s confused. And that makes him mad. Let’s get out of the truck and be ready when he brings the buggy around, okay?”

Evan appeared shortly in what resembled a golf cart. “Hop in.”

When Jimmy hesitated, Chloe climbed in, taking a spot in the back so Jimmy could ride up front next to Evan.

When Jimmy continued to hesitate, Evan’s impatient expression relented a fraction; he shrugged his head to one side. “Come on. You ride shotgun.”

Once Jimmy was onboard, Evan didn’t speed off as Chloe imagined he wanted to. Instead, he drove slowly, pointing out various formations.

“This quarry is limestone.” Evan pointed to a newly excavated vein. “See the different colors? The clay and the iron oxide cause that.” He drove past the open pit to a second pit.

“Now, this limestone’s been weathered a long time, about a hundred and forty years. That’s why the color’s different than the new vein. Subtle change, though. Takes stone thousands of years to form, sometimes more to change.”

Jimmy’s big brown eyes grew even larger. “How do you grow more, then?”

Evan’s mouth curved as though about to smile. As quickly, he pulled his eyebrows together in a serious expression. “We can’t. Have you heard about taking care of the environment?”

Solemnly, Jimmy nodded. “Daddy and Mommy said we have to take care of the earth. That it’s our job, so that’s why we have to use green things.” He looked up at Evan. “That doesn’t mean the color green.”

“So I’ve heard. Which is why we use every part of the stone we dig up. After the big slabs are cut, we use the small pieces for all kinds of things—cement, mortar, it even goes in toothpaste.”

“We brush our teeth with rocks?” Jimmy asked, forgetting his fear, completely intrigued.

Evan’s lips definitely twitched. “Helps that they flavor it with mint. Oh, and bubble gum for kids.”

Bubble-gum flavored toothpaste? Funny thing for a single man to know about. Mr. Wainwright had told her that Evan was an only child. So no nieces or nephews. Of course he could have seen the product in a commercial.

Chloe had wondered if Evan’s stubborn refusal to even consider taking Jimmy in was because of being an only child. Never having to share. Maybe he hadn’t left the trait behind with his childhood. Maybe he didn’t want to share his life, either.

She found that terribly sad. Even though Chloe had felt the impact of financial problems for years, she wouldn’t trade caring for her mother. Not for a zillion dollars. But the money Holden Wainwright had promised her if she succeeded in placing Jimmy with the Mitchells would change their lives. There would be no more angst-ridden moments of worrying whether she would be able to pay the rising costs of the care facility.

“Are most of the rocks for toothpaste?” Jimmy was asking Evan.

“Nope. Most of it’s used in architecture. Have you heard of the Great Pyramids? They’re in Egypt where your grandparents are. Anyway, they’re made of limestone.”

“I didn’t know that,” Chloe blurted out, belatedly realizing she had verbalized her thought.

“Castles in medieval times were made from it, too.” Evan replied, unperturbed by her question.

“With dragons?” Jimmy asked with the first note of genuine, full-out excitement she had heard in his voice.

Evan scratched his head. “Hard to say. We don’t carry dragons at our quarries.”

Chloe nearly giggled aloud, not something she would have ever anticipated doing with Evan.

The thought had barely formed when he turned around. “I have to get back to the office soon. Where did you leave your car?”

“The house,” she admitted, belatedly realizing that hadn’t been a well-thought-out plan.

Evan glanced at his watch, then scowled. “Have to head back now, then.”

By the time they returned the cart and switched back to the truck, Evan was impatient to get to his meeting. He pulled into the driveway at the house, leaving the engine running. Jimmy hopped out immediately. Chloe started to follow, but Evan caught her arm.

“We have to talk. Soon.” He met her eyes, his own making her shiver unexpectedly. “When we’re alone.”

Chapter Four

Alone. Evan waited through dinner, then coffee and cake in the parlor. Chloe had managed to keep someone within a foot of her the entire time. He wouldn’t be surprised if she super-glued Jimmy to one of her hands.

And his head was throbbing. The meeting with the bank president had gone so poorly he didn’t expect a follow-up visit would change a thing. Evan, like the rest of his family before him, had kept his business with the local bank. No connections to any of the large multinational banks. He couldn’t blame his local banker. Loans, especially big commercial loans, still weren’t the flavor of the day. And Mitchell Stone had been operating in the red for the last three years.

It hadn’t helped that during the meeting, he couldn’t forget his other immediate problem. Sending Chloe and Jimmy back to Milwaukee. The boy resembled Spencer too much, making him remember too much…about too many things.

A sudden image of Sean seared his thoughts. His son would be seven now, too. Sean should have been the one sitting in the cart beside him as they toured the quarry, learning as Evan had, from a young age to appreciate both the family business and the blessings of the earth, what it gave up to us.

Sean had wanted to learn—every waking moment of every day. What kind of bird nested in the tall oak out front? Why did Grandpa’s hair turn gray? How did the dew form on the grass? A million questions, he had thought at the time, hoping he wouldn’t run out of answers. He had never dreamed it would be Sean who would run out of time.

And his beautiful Robin… The Lord had never made a sweeter woman. She had lived her life for her family, and ultimately died trying to save Sean. If only…. If only he hadn’t chosen Hawaii to vacation. But Robin had always wanted to visit there and he had delighted at the surprise on her face when he had given her a dream vacation for her birthday. She and Sean had counted the days until they flew to the beautiful islands.

Evan would give anything to turn back the calendar, to change that one dreadful decision. He swallowed, knowing life didn’t work that way.

“Son?” Gordon repeated.

Evan shook his head, then lifted his gaze. “Sorry, Dad.”

Gordon’s eyes filled with empathy and understanding. “I’m going to teach Jimmy how to tie some flies. Thought we’d go fishing Saturday. How does that sound?”

Like another painful reminder. “Whatever you want.”

Concern lingered in Gordon’s eyes.

And Evan didn’t want to worry his father. “Be good to go before winter sets in.” Thanksgiving was right around the corner; Christmas would descend in seeming days.

“That’s what I was thinking. Chloe says her father used to go ice fishing up in Wisconsin. Makes my bones shiver to think about it.”

Evan glanced in her direction. “Doesn’t your father ice fish anymore?”

“My dad died when I was in junior high school,” she explained. Although Chloe’s voice was steady, he glimpsed a flash of pain in her eyes.

“Sorry.” Evan knew the words were inadequate. He had heard the phrase often enough in the past two years.

“It’s been a long time.”

But never long enough. Time heals all wounds. He had heard that one so much it made him sick. That and the Lord never gives us more than we can bear. But there had been no reason to take Robin and Sean. Again his throat swelled and Evan couldn’t speak around the lump it caused.

Chloe glanced down, then patted Jimmy’s knee. Clearly, she knew that the discussion could upset him, might have already done so.

Evan wondered how Wainwright had found this woman. Someone as pugnacious as a bulldog, yet obviously sensitive to a child’s needs.

Gordon stood and clapped one hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Let’s go in the den. Those flies aren’t going to tie themselves.”

They had barely begun walking from the room when Chloe rose. When she passed his chair, Evan snagged her arm.

Startled, Chloe pulled back, her hand immediately brushing the spot where he had touched her.

Funny, he felt a strange tingle at the touch himself. Ignoring it, Evan waited until Gordon and Jimmy were out of hearing. “We need to talk.”

“In here?” she asked weakly.

“No. Too many interruptions.” He stood, grabbing her hand. Again the feeling shot clear through his body. Again he ignored it. He led her through the kitchen, out the back door. The wide, wrap-around porch was lit by soft gas lights.

“The days are shorter,” Chloe commented, sounding nervous. “Gets dark so early.” She pointed toward the sky. “Good there’s moonlight.”

“Are you a stargazer, Miss Reed?”

“Chloe,” she insisted. “Yes, I suppose I am. Not that I’ve had time to—”

“How do you spend your time? Convincing people to make bad decisions?”

Anger flashed in her sea-green eyes. She was right. The light from the moon aided the gas lights enough to read her expression. Chloe’s mouth opened, then she firmed her lips into a resolute line as she pulled her shoulders back. “I work, if you must know.”

“That’s what you call it?”

The anger in her face intensified. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

So, she had a temper. “Surely it’s clear, even to you, that Wainwright’s plan isn’t going to work.”

“Why are you so negative? You act as though Jimmy has some sort of disease. He’s a wonderful child!”

“I didn’t say he isn’t.” The boy seemed like a good kid. On the quiet side, but Evan didn’t expect anything different after what Jimmy had been through.

“Then what is it?” Exasperation spilled into her voice.

“I told you my answer is no.”

Chloe paused, tilting her face so that the moonlight enhanced the beguiling heart shape of her face. “Your father seems to have a different opinion.”

Evan tried to ignore the unwanted feeling her proximity caused. “It’s not going to work, regardless of what my father says. There’s no room in my life for a child. I’m fighting to keep the business alive. I have twenty-seven employees who depend on me for their livelihood. Do you expect me to forget about them?”

“Of course not.” The exasperation had left her voice. Concern replaced it. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t do both. You have help—your father, Thelma and Ned.”

“What is it about no that you don’t understand? This isn’t like a pet rescue. I can’t turn Jimmy out in the yard with Bailey if I don’t want him close to me. He needs parents, not a guardian.”

“But with time—”

“There isn’t going to be any time.” Evan’s constant anguish flared so fiercely it felt like a physical blow. The back door opened and Jimmy ran outside, followed more slowly by Gordon.

“Guess what?” Jimmy asked Chloe with a glimmer of excitement. “Tomorrow we’re going to see the school.”

All four adults looked at one another. Chloe seemed uncertain. Gordon was determined. And Evan knew he had to stop this from happening. At all costs.

Chloe and Jimmy had disappeared upstairs. Evan made certain of it before he confronted his father. “What were you thinking? Telling the boy you’ll show him our school?”

Gordon knocked the ashes from his pipe into an ashtray. “Why shouldn’t he see it?”

“You know exactly why. Jimmy will think that means he’ll be staying on for a while.”

“Son, he needs us.”

Evan snorted. “There are thousands of orphaned children who need homes. Are we going to take them in as well?”

Gordon packed cherry tobacco into the bowl of his worn pipe. “He’s family.”

Evan felt his chest heave with pain. Family would never again mean the same thing for him. “Are you planning to take care of him?”

“We had that talk when Wainwright first called.”

Slumping into a deep leather chair, Evan sighed. “Why are you doing this to me, Dad?”

Gordon stopped tamping down the tobacco, which didn’t really matter since he never lit the pipe. “It’s not to you, son. It’s for you. When we first lost Robin and Sean, I knew it would take you a long time to accept that you still have a life. It’s natural.”

“Accept it? I’ll never accept it. There was no reason for them to die.”

“You did everything you could to—”

“But the Lord didn’t!” Furious, he rose.

“We don’t always understand—”

“I’ve heard it all before. And I don’t want to hear it again.”

Gordon sighed. “This boy is another chance for you, son. The Lord knows of the hole in your heart.”

“A replacement?” Evan laughed bitterly. “A cosmic reparation? No. I lost the only son I’ll ever have.”

“Evan, you—”

“If you persist in having them stay here, he’s your responsibility.”

“Son, it doesn’t do you any good to be angry at the Lord.”

Sadness and pain settled in Evan’s heart. “I’m not angry at Him. I’m disappointed. And that won’t ever change.”

“All the grades go together?” Jimmy asked in a hushed voice, tightening his grip on Chloe’s hand as they stood in the main hall of Rosewood Community Church’s school.

“Not in the same room,” Chloe explained, although she wasn’t certain just how the school was organized.

Gordon nodded. “That’s how it was when I was a boy.”

Jimmy looked at him in awe, as though the older man had said he had attended school with the dinosaurs. “You went to school here?”

Chloe and Gordon both chuckled.

“Yep. We’d invented fire by then.” Gordon clapped one hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, giving him a small hug while he exchanged an amused glance with Chloe.

Just then a pretty woman walked out of the office.

“Well, hello, Grace.”

“Gordon!” She smiled, a generous smile that lit up her blue-gray eyes. “I heard the hunting went very well.”

He turned to Chloe. “Ah, the bane of small towns. Can’t get by with much that everybody doesn’t know about.”

“Afraid that’s true,” Grace agreed.

“I’m forgetting my manners. Grace, this is Chloe Reed and Jimmy Mitchell.”

“So good to meet you,” she said to Chloe, then extended her hand to Jimmy. “Always glad to meet another Mitchell man.”

Pleased, but shy, Jimmy grinned.

“I don’t have a class this hour,” Grace continued. “Can I help you find anything?”

“Thought it’d be nice to show them around. You know, a little tour, before they meet the principal,” Gordon explained.

“I’d be glad to help. I teach part-time in the upper grades, but I know all the buildings.” She leaned down slightly toward Jimmy and confided, “The kids call me old lady Brady.”

Chloe couldn’t restrain her laughter. “We’re probably close in age. Didn’t realize I was in that category yet.”

Grace laughed with her. “Came as quite a shock to me, too. Teaching is my second and best career. Didn’t realize it would age me so!”

Gordon groaned. “You kids are killing me.”

“You are a sweetheart,” Grace declared as she turned to Chloe. “See why I love the Mitchell men?”

Chloe had seen plenty of reasons, even in Evan. Because for all his protests, she suspected he was covering a deep and grievous hurt.

Grace led them down the main hall. “We’re in the administration building. Besides the office, the cafeteria, library and auditorium are in this building. There are separate buildings for elementary, junior high and senior high. Since it’s a church school, we’re not funded by the government but we have private donors. I imagine you’d like to see the elementary building.”

The cheerful building was filled with colorful banners and posters. “Kindergarten through fifth-grade classes,” Grace explained as they passed individual classrooms. “There’s also a smaller, all-purpose room for the youngest grades. The plays and larger performances are held in the auditorium. More room for all the doting parents and grandparents.” Grace paused in front of one classroom. “This is a first-grade class.”

“Is there more than one?” Chloe asked, liking the positive energy in the school.

“That depends on enrollment. Our elementary teachers are certified to teach two or three grades. That way we can adjust to make sure class sizes aren’t too large.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”

“Are you a teacher, too?” Grace questioned.

“No. I’m a sec… I work for a legal firm out of Milwaukee.”

Gordon looked at her strangely, and Chloe fiddled with her purse handles, worrying about her near slip.

“A fellow big-city native! I’m from Houston.”

Chloe was immediately curious. “How do you like living here?”

“It’s perfect,” she replied in a soft voice. “I love it.”

“Met her husband here,” Gordon added.

Grace blushed, a gentle pink. “Yes. You’ll meet him at church. He’s the choir director.”

“A musician?”

She smiled widely. “Actually, Noah’s a plastic surgeon who happens to love music. Works out well because I do, too.”

“Do you teach music?”

“Actually, I teach English.” Grace laughed again. “You probably think you’ve wandered into the land of Oz where nothing is as it seems. A choir director who’s a doctor and a musician who teaches English.”

Chloe liked Grace’s infectious smile and laughter. “I’m enjoying Oz just fine.”

“Are we in Oz?” Jimmy asked in a confused tone.

Chloe met Grace’s glance and broke into another round of laughter. Then she knelt down next to Jimmy. “Oz is a pretend place. It’s very colorful and full of surprises.”

With a child’s understanding, Jimmy nodded. “But the school’s real?”

“Very,” Gordon replied. “Do you like what you’ve seen?”

Jimmy nodded. “I don’t like big schools.”

“Me, either,” Grace confided. “I was kind of scared when I started teaching, but at this school, all the people are nice and welcoming. In no time, I felt right at home.”

Grace might teach upper grades, but she had the perfect touch for young children. Chloe was glad they had run into her. She mouthed thank you above Jimmy’s head.

“I know how it is to be new to Rosewood,” Grace continued. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a pen and notepad. She scribbled on one page quickly, then handed it to Chloe. “This is my cell number. I’d like to help you settle in.”

Chloe felt at a loss as to how to answer. Her position was so tenuous.

Gordon replied for her. “That’s mighty nice of you, Grace. And, of course, we’ll see you at church Sunday.”

Church. Because she spent every Sunday visiting her mother, it had been a long time since Chloe had been in a church. But their pastor visited at the care facility, mostly seeing her mom. Chloe’s faith had never wavered. Which was comforting, because she would need it now more than ever.

Chapter Five

Evan could scarcely believe he had been dragged into this fishing trip. With mountains of work waiting on his desk, he was standing on the shore of the river, casting into the flowing currents. He glanced over at his father. After breakfast, as the others were readying for the trip, his father had sat down suddenly, seeming out of breath. Gordon insisted he was all right. So much so that it worried Evan. Was it a ruse to make him go fishing as well? To spend more time with Jimmy?

His father refused to call the doctor or stop by the clinic, which was open Saturday mornings. Ruse or not, Evan couldn’t let him drive out to the river with only Chloe and Jimmy. She didn’t know the area. If something happened, they could be stuck, far from help.

Gordon’s last checkup had gone well, but he wasn’t a young man anymore. The thought chilled him. Once his father was gone, Evan would be the only one left. Feeling his gaze pulled as though by a strong magnet, Evan looked at young Jimmy. The only one left in his family.

Why had Spencer and his wife insisted on reopening that abandoned factory? Wainwright had told Evan that the newly refurbished machines ran on clean energy, apparently a fervent cause of Spencer’s. And, he intended to employ people who had been jobless through no fault of their own. It was a noble cause. But the cost?

Bailey nudged his muzzle into Evan’s hand. Absently, he petted the golden’s head. Next to the shore, Jimmy stood between Chloe and Gordon. The boy had taken a shine to Gordon. But then Jimmy hadn’t really had a grandparent relationship before. His maternal grandfather had died when Jimmy was a toddler, that grandmother suffered from late-stage Alzheimer’s.

And, Evan wondered if the child had ever even met his paternal grandparents. Obviously, Spencer’s parents hadn’t changed since Spencer was a child. Devoted to their archeological dig, they had tunnel vision when it came to anything else in life. He supposed they loved Spencer in their own way. But they had seen nothing wrong in letting him grow up virtually alone. When Evan was young, he had overheard his parents disparaging over why they had ever had a child since they didn’t seem to want to be parents.

His gaze roved toward Chloe. He had expected her to be a typical city woman, squeamish and ill at ease. Instead, she eagerly baited Jimmy’s hook and now stood next to the hill country river as though she’d done so a hundred times before. In the sunlight, her long hair gleamed like spun honey. And Chloe’s laughter was easy and often. Yet she still wore her mother-bear persona, keeping Jimmy under her watchful eye.

Only a week and a half before Thanksgiving, the mild hill country weather was holding true. The changing leaves proved autumn had arrived, but the bite of winter wasn’t yet in the wind. It wouldn’t be long though, bringing the holidays he now dreaded.

As Evan watched, his father sat down in his camp chair, something he usually didn’t do until he had fished for several hours. They’d only been at the river about two hours. Although Gordon’s fishing rod still rested in the river, he wasn’t casting it any longer.

Frowning, Evan studied his face. The niggling worry resurfaced. He walked casually over to Gordon’s side. “River’s running low. Probably won’t catch much today.”

Gordon nodded toward Jimmy. “Never know.”

Clearly, his father wanted Jimmy to have a good time and Evan knew better than to suggest they go home early. His father would dig his feet in and not budge. But if he helped Jimmy catch a fish…

Sighing, Evan reached for the thermos, poured a hot cup of coffee and handed it to his father.

“Thanks, son.” Gordon’s voice sounded weary.

There was a second thermos with hot cocoa for Jimmy, but the youngster was so absorbed in the new sport that Evan could tell he didn’t care about refreshments at the moment. Manners drilled in by a determined mother couldn’t be ignored. “Chloe? Coffee?”

Chloe turned, her mouth wide with a smile, sunshine illuminating her face. “Thanks, no.” Their gazes still connected, she hesitated for a moment before turning back to the river.

It was a terminally long moment, yet not nearly long enough.

Evan frowned, then shook his head. Trick of the light, he decided. Nothing more.

Yet he continued to watch as she gracefully arched her back as she prepared to cast her line into the river. It plopped into the water perfectly. She must have gone fly fishing with her father as well as ice fishing. It took time to learn to cast like that. Which was why they’d given Jimmy a pole instead. Although the boy had helped tie flies, he was still too young to master casting. Maybe in the spring when there was plenty of warm weather ahead…. Evan jerked his thoughts to an abrupt halt. No. Jimmy wouldn’t be here in the spring.

Reminded that the boy needed to catch a fish so they could get his father back home, Evan paused. His own gear lay in the yellowing grass. He had brought it along only to appease his father. But it gave him an excuse to help Jimmy.

Evan walked to the shore quietly so he wouldn’t startle the boy. Studying his wobbling line, Evan remembered his own father teaching him to fish. Then he remembered the times he had brought Sean to this very shore, the bubbling excitement of his son’s animated face. Evan had expected someday to be the one sitting in a camp chair while Sean taught his own child the sport.

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