Will a fresh start heal old wounds?

His high school sweetheart returns with a baby...

And a devastating secret.

Reese Markowski can’t believe he’s hiring his ex-girlfriend—but to save his program for dogs and at-risk kids, the veteran needs Gabby Hanks. Single mom Gabby’s fierce love for her infant daughter is undeniable, as is the child’s effect on Reese’s wounded heart. Their holiday reunion is a joyful surprise, but nothing prepares Reese for the truth about Gabby’s baby...

Rescue Haven

LEE TOBIN McCLAIN read Gone with the Wind in the third grade and has been a hopeless romantic ever since. When she’s not writing angst-filled love stories with happy endings, she’s getting inspiration from her church singles group, her gymnastics-obsessed teenage daughter, and her rescue dog and cat. In her day job, Lee gets to encourage aspiring romance writers in Seton Hill University’s low-residency MFA program. Visit her at leetobinmcclain.com.

Also By Lee Tobin McClain

Rescue Haven

The Secret Christmas Child

Redemption Ranch

The Soldier’s Redemption

The Twins’ Family Christmas

The Nanny’s Secret Baby

Rescue River

Engaged to the Single Mom

His Secret Child

Small-Town Nanny

The Soldier and the Single Mom

The Soldier’s Secret Child

A Family for Easter

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Secret Christmas Child

Lee Tobin McClain

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90067-0

THE SECRET CHRISTMAS CHILD

© 2019 Lee Tobin McClain

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Note to Readers

This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

 Change of font size and line height

 Change of background and font colours

 Change of font

 Change justification

 Text to speech

“Reese, I’m sorry about what happened before.”

Gabby looked into his eyes.

He frowned at her. “You mean...after I went into the service?”

She nodded and swallowed hard. “Something happened, and I couldn’t... I couldn’t keep the promise I made.”

That something being another guy, Izzy’s father. He drew in a breath. Was he going to hold on to his hurt feelings about what had happened?

Looking into her eyes, he breathed out the last of his anger.

“It’s understood.”

“Thank you,” she said simply. She held his gaze for another moment and then looked down and away.

It had been so long since he’d been part of a real, good family that he’d forgotten he wanted it. Tonight, with her family, made him realize how much he wanted one of his own.

But in the back of his mind, a voice of caution warned. She’d already broken his heart once before. He shouldn’t get too close again.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading book one in my new Rescue Haven series. Since I love dogs and have a heart for at-risk kids, the Rescue Haven program was really fun for me to write...especially since it takes place at Christmastime, where sledding and church pageants and visits from Santa add to the fun.

The assault Gabby endured, her lonely pregnancy and the initial harsh judgments made by Reese and others are the darker side of this particular story. Darkness is part of life, but how fortunate we are to know a God who can bring joy out of sorrow. Izzy is the wonderful blessing that emerges from the pain of Gabby’s past.

If you felt there was a little extra emotion in the portrayal of the senior dog Bundi, you are right. Bundi is modeled on my sister’s dog. She’s fifteen years old and needs a little extra help navigating the world these days, but she still loves biscuits, belly rubs and everyone she meets. We could all learn a thing or two from Bundi!

Wishing you a very happy Christmas,

Lee

For I will turn their mourning into joy.

—Jeremiah 31:13

To Dana R. Lynn and Rachel Dylan

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

“I’m not working for Reese.” Gabby Hanks shook her head as she put the dinner tray she’d prepared beside her grandmother’s bed. “No. Uh-uh. No way.”

Nana shifted Gabby’s nine-month-old daughter, who’d started to fuss, in her arms and clucked her tongue, and little Izzy’s frown turned into a smile. One that matched Nana’s persuasive smile all too well, despite the seventy-five-year age gap between them. “I’m making you a good offer. A place to stay, free childcare and a job that’s right across the backyard. Which would be a real convenience, considering that heap of junk you’re driving.”

Despite her grandmother’s brusque tone, Gabby heard what Nana wasn’t saying: she herself needed help, even though she was too proud to ask for it. A bad case of the flu had left her weak and shaky. She shouldn’t be alone right now. “We can stay here for a few weeks, until Christmas,” Gabby said.

“And you can help Reese until Christmas, or at least interview for a position there,” Nana said. “I happen to know he needs seasonal help.”

“Nana. Why would an after-school program for at-risk kids need seasonal help?” Gabby pulled a second threadbare blanket over her grandmother’s legs and looked anxiously out the window at the low-hanging clouds. The northern-Ohio wind whistled through the old, poorly insulated house.

“Because those kids’ needs don’t just go away when school lets out for Christmas break,” Nana said. “Reese has an overload of boys whose parents work long hours and can’t supervise them, so the church board is sponsoring his Christmas Camp.” She picked up a piece of toast and bit off a tiny corner. “Thank you for fixing me dinner, honey. It’s real good.”

“You need to eat more.” Her grandmother was way skinnier than she should be, and Gabby’s heart constricted with guilt. Yes, she’d had to take a job on the other side of the state to pay her and Izzy’s bills, but she should have visited more often.

A moot point now. She’d lost the job because of missing too much work; a single mom didn’t have much choice when her baby was sick and she had no friends or relatives in town.

Nana’s casual revelation that she wasn’t feeling too well and “wouldn’t mind a visit” had come as a blessing. Now it looked like the blessing went both ways.

“Anyway,” Nana said, waving a hand toward the field that adjoined their edge-of-town house, “Reese’s main assistant had to leave for a family emergency. He’s in a spot.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of applicants.” Who wouldn’t want to work with the second-most-popular former football player in Bethlehem Springs?

First most popular, now.

“You forget what a small town Bethlehem Springs is,” Nana said.

Oh, no she didn’t. That was a good part of why she’d left.

Bethlehem Springs had been a wonderful place to grow up, and most people had been kind despite Gabby’s shaky family history and thrift-store clothes. She’d had a good life here with Nana. Firm friends, good grades, plenty of opportunities.

But that had all changed after the accident.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and held out her hands for Izzy. “Come on, let me hold you while Nana eats,” she said. Gabby repeated her mantra: Izzy’s what’s important.

I’ll take care of you. I’ll do right by you.

Izzy was her joy out of sorrow, and she gave Gabby’s life purpose and meaning. No, Gabby wouldn’t have the caring family she’d dreamed of growing up, or at least, she wouldn’t have a man to protect her; her dreams of a white knight had turned to dust. But she’d give Izzy a sense of security. That was paramount.

“It’s a real godsend, your being here.” Nana dutifully forked up a green bean. “I’ve been wanting to get to know my great-granddaughter.”

Gabby patted her grandmother’s thin arm. “I’m so glad we’ll get to spend Christmas together.”

And one of the first orders of business was to decorate. Normally, by December 1, Nana would have had the entire house decked out in red and green. The fact that there were no Christmas decorations out said it all about how sick her grandmother had been.

The doorbell chimed through the little house. Izzy yowled her indignation at the unfamiliar sound.

Nana set aside her plate and held out her arms for the baby. “Get the door,” she said to Gabby, then pulled Izzy to her chest and made soothing noises at her. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay.”

Izzy quieted instantly, and Gabby smiled her thanks before heading toward the front door. Nana truly was a baby whisperer, and it would be wonderful to have her help with Izzy.

Not if the price was working for Reese, however. That, she couldn’t tolerate. There was too much history between them, too much pain.

Nana’s cat, Pickles—so named because of his sour disposition—sneaked toward the door, barely visible in the front room’s dim light.

Gabby was wise to the feline’s tricks. “No, you don’t,” she said, sweeping the cat into her arms. “It’s too cold for you to go outside, and you’re too old to spend the night out, anyway.” As she spoke, she opened the door.

Reese Markowski stood on the porch in the winter twilight, a bag of groceries in one arm.

“Oh...” Gabby took a step back, sucking in a breath. She hadn’t seen Reese for well over a year. His hair was shorter—the military thing—and his shoulders seemed broader.

And he had no smile for her now.

The cat screeched in her arms and she realized she was squeezing him. “Come in,” she said to Reese, but the words came out in a croak, and she cleared her throat and repeated them, holding on to the struggling cat. She stepped back farther, the cat providing a convenient barrier.

Reese stepped inside and shut the door behind him, and she let the cat escape, watched it stalk off behind the couch. She’d rather look anywhere than at Reese’s eyes.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he said stiffly. “I was at the store. Brought your grandmother a few things.”

“I can take them. Thank you.” Although that would involve stepping closer to the man she’d once loved with all her now broken heart.

“I’ll put them in the kitchen. Heavy bag.” He walked past her without a second glance.

Clearly he felt at home in Nana’s house. How long had he been helping out her grandmother this way?

And then realization came crashing in: he’d find out about Izzy.

She couldn’t bear that, couldn’t bear his questions, whether spoken or unspoken. She needed time to figure out how to present the facts of the case, how to frame the reality that she’d had a baby less than nine months after he’d left for the service. She hurried after him. “Thanks. Nana’s sleeping. I’ll take care of these from here.”

“I usually put them away for her.” He’d set the bag down on the counter and was shifting cans into a cupboard.

“It’s not necessary.”

“I can do it.” His voice was sharp. “I still have one good hand.”

Only then did she notice he was using only one hand for unloading the groceries. She couldn’t see his other hand beneath his jacket.

“Did something...happen?” she asked.

“IED explosion. Amputated below the elbow.” He used his left hand to flap the other jacket sleeve back and forth briefly before going back to shelving groceries. The sleeve was empty.

She sucked in a breath and searched his face, taking in his tight jaw, the way his brows drew together. So that was why he hadn’t finished his tour of duty. “I didn’t know.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“But you were going to be a carpenter. Can you still...” She trailed off.

He shook his head. “Not the way I wanted to.”

Pain wrapped around her stomach and squeezed. All his dreams. All that talent. Automatically, her eyes went to the cherrywood display case he’d made her, still in a place of honor on Nana’s kitchen wall, holding her high school treasures—a trophy from a cheerleading competition, a silly clay figurine she’d made in art class, a photo of her and Nana on graduation day, Gabby’s cap knocked askew, both of them laughing.

The case was beautiful, a work of fine craftsmanship that many men twice Reese’s age couldn’t have produced.

When she turned back toward him, he was looking at the display case, too. His lips tightened. “Don’t waste your pity on me. See to your grandmother. She’s not doing so well.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the house, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Gabby wrapped her arms around her middle and stared after him, her heart twisting with so many emotions she didn’t know how to begin to process them.

Reese had lost part of his arm serving his country. He could no longer do the thing he loved best.

Nana was sicker than she seemed.

Also, even before learning about Izzy, Reese seemed to hate her.

The next morning, Reese walked into the rehabbed barn that housed his program for at-risk kids, still trying to recover from the encounter with Gabby.

He’d made a fool of himself, not that it mattered. Acting touchy and defensive about his amputation. Implying she’d been a bad granddaughter. Showing his hurt feelings about what she’d done to him.

You’d think he was one of the at-risk kids in his own program, lashing out and blaming others.

He guessed he had the right to blame Gabby, since she’d lied about her feelings and cheated on him in a very public way. But he’d thought he’d overcome that, what with all that had happened since then.

Nope. Seeing her had brought out every immature desire to retaliate that he’d had when he’d first seen his cousin’s social media post, arm slung around Gabby. “My new girl,” it had said.

In his grim barracks in Afghanistan, Reese had ripped down his photo of her, discarded the letter he’d been writing, blocked her on everything.

He didn’t need to go back to that time when his hope had overcome his good sense. He needed to focus on the Rescue Haven program and forget about his old dreams of love and family.

“I’m here,” called a strident voice out in the barn. “Just in time for the little rebels. Want me to feed and water them?”

He went to the door. “Hey, Tammy,” he said to the woman who occasionally filled in for his assistant. “Thanks for coming in on short notice. Why don’t you let them hang around and see to the dogs for half an hour and then settle them down with a snack? This interview I’m doing shouldn’t take long.” Gabby’s grandmother had been mysterious about this candidate but had insisted the person had stellar qualifications.

An uneasy possibility occurred to him. Nana wouldn’t have... No. She wouldn’t be that insensitive.

Or maybe she would, because walking through the barn door was none other than Gabby herself.

He couldn’t school his face in time. All the hurt, anger and disbelief must have shown, right along with the intense attraction he still felt.

She stopped walking toward him as if repelled by his powerful emotions.

He didn’t need Tammy to see this interaction and spread it all over town. “My office is in here,” he said gruffly. He turned and walked inside, almost hoping she wouldn’t come along.

Only when he sat down behind his big, messy metal desk did he see that Gabby had followed him, but she stood in the doorway as if she wasn’t sure she dared to enter. “Nana didn’t tell you it was me, did she.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

He shook his head, straightening papers on his desk as he tried to compose himself.

Nana had set him up, telling him she had the perfect candidate to fill the job he so desperately needed to fill.

But Gabby had known whom she’d be working for, obviously. “Why’d you come?” he asked her. “I wouldn’t think you’d want to work for me.”

She was still standing in the doorway, gripping the edge of the frame, eyes wide and vulnerable. “Um, I really need a job while I’m in town. Nana said you were hiring and wanted to talk to me. Obviously, she was wrong. I’ll go.”

She half turned, and only then did he realize she’d dressed up; beneath her heavy parka, she was wearing nice blue pants and a white shirt, boots with a little heel. Her normally wild hair was tamed back into a bun.

She wanted the job. She was trying.

Since she’d made an effort, he should at least talk to her. A courtesy interview. It would be good for him, get him used to the fact that Gabby might be around for a few weeks. “Wait a minute,” he said, and pulled out a chair for her. “Have a seat. We might as well see this through for Nana’s sake.”

She looked at him for a moment, shook her head. “Don’t patronize me,” she said, her voice low. “If you aren’t going to consider me, I’ll leave.”

He didn’t answer that because he didn’t know how. “The kids are a handful,” he said instead. “I need someone to work with them.”

“You know I was working on a degree in education before...” She trailed off.

Before what? he wondered, but didn’t ask. He’d admired her interest in teaching, her determination to get a college degree; it was part of why he hadn’t pushed to get married or even engaged right after high school. He’d known that was the right thing to do when she’d been so happy about her studies the summer after her freshman year, during the friendly get-togethers that they’d kept nonromantic by mutual agreement.

After her sophomore year, when he’d been getting ready to go overseas, he’d had more trouble holding his feelings in check. He’d asked her for a commitment and she’d agreed.

And then he’d left, and everything had changed.

Shouts, barks and the sounds of a scuffle came from the barn. “Reese!” Tammy called. “Help!”

Reese was up and jogging past Gabby before Tammy finished speaking. “Be right back,” he called over his shoulder.

In the middle of the barn, two of his more complicated charges were squared off and circling, both faces twisted in anger. The problem was, David was tiny, and Wolf, as he liked to be called, was huge. Between them sat a Doberman, looking back and forth while they shouted at each other.

“I can’t handle these kids,” Tammy said. “If nobody has raised them right...”

And that was exactly why he didn’t want to hire Tammy in a permanent capacity. She had such a negative attitude toward the kids.

He waded in, putting a hand on Wolf’s shoulder because he was the big one, holding up his other arm to keep David back.

“Get that thing away from me!” David reared back from Reese’s hook-hand prosthetic.

Reese couldn’t help the flush that came up his face. He was getting used to the amputation, a little bit, but to a kid it had to be pretty horrific.

“Dude, he’s, like, a war hero, shut up!” one of the other boys said, and that made Reese flush even more.

“Yeah!”

“What’s wrong with you—aren’t you an American?”

More boys chimed in and a couple of them advanced on David. This was why Reese needed an assistant; Wolf was straining toward David now, too, and it took most of Reese’s strength to hold him back.

Tammy stood, back pressed against the side of the barn, arms crossed protectively over herself. No help there.

“Okay, everyone.” Gabby’s brisk, matter-of-fact tone stopped the boys whose arms were raised to attack David. “Pretty sure Reese is going to give you some hard homework if you get into a fight. Break it up.”

She was five-two and couldn’t have weighed much more than one hundred pounds, but she had calm authority in her voice, and she walked right in between David and the other boys.

Even Wolf stopped pushing at Reese and tilted his head to one side, watching her.

“Anybody willing to give me a tour of the facilities?” she asked. “I’d like to see the dogs.”

There was a moment’s silence. Gabby maintained eye contact with first one boy, then another, until she’d worked her way around the hostile circle without saying another word.

All of a sudden, several of the boys volunteered to show her around, and the rest of them trooped along, leaving Reese free to settle Wolf on one side of the barn and David on the other. He found out what the dispute had been about and gave them both chores.

Then he watched morosely as Gabby talked and laughed with the boys, seeming completely comfortable as she knelt to look at each dog, asked questions and really listened to the answers.

Tammy pulled herself together and set out breakfast rolls, fruit and juice at the long table at one end of the barn, and that drew all of the boys to focus. She turned on the inspirational podcast they always listened to as they ate, and Reese gestured Gabby back into his office.

It didn’t seem right to be angry about what she’d done, now that his cousin was gone. It was just that seeing her had brought back all the memories of what he’d hoped for, back when he’d been young and naive, thinking the world was basically a good place and that things would get better once he was grown up and free from his aunt and uncle’s house.

“Nice kids,” she said, her hand on the back of the chair in front of his desk. “But I assume you don’t want me to work for you.”

“You were good with the boys,” he said.

“I like kids.” She shrugged. “Plus, I get what it’s like to be the one who gets in trouble.”

“I’m sure you do.” When Gabby had arrived in Bethlehem Springs in the fifth grade, the word was that she’d gotten sent to the principal’s office most days.

She’d settled down by the time he’d arrived in middle school. He’d acted out some, too—you could hardly help it when you’d lost your parents suddenly and moved into a new school and a family who didn’t much want you.

That was why he’d latched on to the job with this grant-funded program as soon as he’d been cleared to work. He felt like he understood boys who were struggling. The fact that the grant funding was running out was currently his biggest worry. “Listen,” he said, “it’s probably not a good idea long term, but I need help pulling this Christmas Camp together. Starting next week, all the boys will be here full days, and like you just saw, I can’t handle them alone. If you’re willing, I’d like to offer you a temporary contract, through Christmas.”

“Really?” She stared at him. “You can work with me?”

It might kill him, but for the sake of the boys, he could do it. “Think about it,” he said. “I know you have to watch out for your grandmother. If you need to run over here and there, it’s fine.”

She bit her lip, opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“If you could decide in the next day or two, that would be great.”

She shook her head rapidly. “I don’t need a day or two. I already know I want the job.”

“Then I’ll draw up a contract.”

“Reese...”

He looked up from his desk. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure. You can start on Monday.”

“Okay, then.” She reached across the desk, offering a handshake.

He’d already encountered that awkward move before, so he knew how to deflect it by extending his left hand. He gripped hers, and the sensation of touching her travelled straight to his heart.

She must have felt it, too, because she pulled her hand away, thanked him and hurried out of his office.

Leaving him to remember that it had always been like that with them: electric, dangerous as an exposed wire.

Now it felt more dangerous than ever.

Chapter Two

Gabby had always loved the fact that, despite being a small town, Bethlehem Springs had a train station. As a kid, she’d come here with her grandfather to watch the trains. As a restless adolescent, hanging around the station had given her a sense of being able to leave at a moment’s notice, to get to the bright lights of Chicago or New York or, more realistically, Cleveland or Columbus. She’d gone to and from college on the train. And when everything had blown up in Bethlehem Springs that horrible summer after her sophomore year, she’d packed her things and taken the train to start a new life.

Today, though, she wasn’t leaving; she was staying, getting more tied down and domesticated. It had been eighteen months since she’d seen her half brother at her mother’s funeral, and they hadn’t exactly gotten along. He’d been understandably grief stricken about losing their mother and upset at the prospect of going to live with his father, and he’d begged Gabby to let him come live with her.

But at twenty-one and pregnant with a baby she’d in no way planned for, she hadn’t felt qualified to become the guardian of a brother she barely knew. Besides, surely Jacob’s father would do a better job taking care of him.

The father, unfortunately, hadn’t supervised Jacob well. Her brother had gotten into trouble for some minor vandalism, and rather than help him work through it, his father had shipped the poor kid off to military school. Jacob had just completed his first term, and somehow, he was coming to spend the Christmas break with Nana rather than going back to California to stay with his father. He was to arrive on the 6:00 a.m. train.

The platform was spooky-dark, with mist rising from the ground and clouds ominous overhead. Huddled in her heavy parka on the outdoor platform, she wished she’d thought to bring mittens and a hat.

Maybe she should’ve borrowed a dog from Reese’s kennels, too, because it was awfully creepy here. Lots of rustling in the bushes that lined the far edge of the platform. Loud, screeching noises of what might have been an owl on the hunt.

Another car arrived at the parking lot beside the platform. A man, solo, got out.

Chills shook Gabby’s already shivering body. It was still black darkness outside, and according to her app, the train wouldn’t arrive for another twenty minutes. Running late, like so many passenger trains did these days.

The man sat down on a bench at the other end of the platform. That was weird, right? If he’d been a normal person, he’d have come over here and said hello.

But maybe he just wasn’t sociable. He carried no luggage that she could see, so he must be picking someone up. Maybe he just treasured his last minutes of solitude.

He was looking in her direction.

Maybe he was a criminal who was going to cut her into a million pieces and throw her onto the train tracks.

“Gabby?”

Relief made her limbs go limp. It was Reese, and he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She stood to greet him, her heart still pounding just as hard as when she’d thought he was a dangerous stranger.

“I’m here to pick up a boy who’s starting our program. His mom works the night shift and won’t be off for another hour, so I offered to pick him up for her.”

Above and beyond. That didn’t surprise her; Reese had always gone the extra mile without thinking of his own convenience. “I’m here for my brother,” she told him, even though he hadn’t asked. But talking seemed to calm her nerves, at least a little. “He’s staying with me and Nana and...me and Nana. For the holidays.” She should have just casually mentioned Izzy—Oh, didn’t you know I have a baby?—but she didn’t, even though this would be Izzy’s first Christmas, and Gabby hoped to make it special. Keeping Izzy’s existence a secret from Reese was a cowardly thing, and fruitless—he’d find out soon enough—but she was pretty sure it would upset him, and at 6:00 a.m., she couldn’t handle that. “I thought there’d be coffee here. Didn’t the station used to be open, with a little concession area?”

“Hard times.” He nodded at the steaming cup he was carrying. “I’d offer you some of mine, but...”

He didn’t have to say it. There had been a time when sharing a beverage would have been as normal as breathing, but that time was past. “It’s okay,” she said. “Good for me. I’m too addicted.”

“Where’s your brother coming from?” He frowned down at her. “Did I even know you had a brother?”

“Probably not,” she said. “He’s my half brother, and I didn’t really know him, didn’t talk about him much. He grew up with Mom.” She was over her resentment about that, mostly. Mom had raised her son—well, she’d done the best she could—but she’d dumped her daughter on Nana without a backward glance. “He’s been at Smith Military Academy since September.”

“That’s where the kid I’m picking up—” he gestured toward the tracks “—that’s where he’s coming from, too.”

A whistle, high and mournful, blew their way on a gust of cold wind, and then a light appeared way down the track. A moment later the train’s engine was audible. Both Reese and Gabby stood.

Dawn was just lightening the edge of the sky when two boys disembarked from the train, the only passengers to do so. As they put down their duffels, stretched and looked around, the train pulled away again.

“Hey, Mr. Markowski!” The blond boy stuck out a hand in polite greeting.

“Connor. Hope you had a good trip. This is Gabby Hanks.”

“Hi,” Gabby said with a quick smile for the boy, but she was distracted with staring at her brother. He’d shot up several inches since she’d last seen him, and young as he was, it looked like he needed a shave. Dark circles beneath his eyes and a pallor to his skin made him look less than healthy.

Maybe it was just that it was early. Teens didn’t do well with early.

She opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. “It’s good to see you, Jacob.”

He didn’t hug her back, but he submitted to her affection, probably the best you could expect from a fifteen-year-old boy.

They all turned and walked toward the parking lot. Each of the boys carried a small duffel bag, and they wore khakis and heavy wool jackets, identical. Must have been some kind of civilian uniform from the military academy.

“So you two know each other?” Reese asked, clearly trying to make conversation.

“Yeah. Some. He’s a year ahead of me.” Connor looked more than a year younger than Jacob, but then, kids developed at such different rates.

As Gabby walked along, half beside and half behind her silent brother, the reality of what the next few weeks would be like started to settle in.

Nana was sick. She was insistent that she could take care of Izzy, but even if that turned out to be the case, she wouldn’t have much energy left to entertain Jacob. Gabby herself would be busy working full-time. And anyway, a fifteen-year-old boy didn’t want to hang out with his grandmother and his older half sister whom he barely knew.

The wireless connection in Nana’s house was spotty at best, so the internet as entertainment couldn’t be counted on.

Watching Reese talk easily with the other boy, Gabby got a brainstorm, the obvious solution. “Go ahead and get in the car,” she said to Jacob, tossing him the keys. “I’m going to talk to Reese for a minute.”

She caught Reese’s eye and beckoned him over. “What’s the age range for boys in your kids’ program?” she asked.

“We don’t have an official limit, but I think our youngest is eleven and our oldest, let’s see, he’s fifteen.” He clicked open his car for Connor. “Why do you ask?”

“How do kids get into the program? Could Jacob participate?”

“There’s paperwork to be done,” he said, frowning. “It’s based on financial need.”

“Pretty sure he has that. He’s on scholarship at school, I know.”

Reese’s brow wrinkled, and he started to shake his head. He was going to say no.

“Please, Reese? It’s just for the Christmas break.” She lowered her voice. “He’ll go nuts with boredom at Nana’s, and that wouldn’t be good for a kid with his history.”

Reese looked thoughtfully toward Gabby’s car, where Jacob was fiddling with the radio. His face softened. “I know what that’s like. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” She shot Reese a grateful smile and then hurried over to the passenger side of her car and opened the door. “Jacob, come out and talk to Reese a minute. He’s involved with a program that might be really good for you over this break.”

Jacob didn’t look particularly thrilled, but he dutifully came out of the car, walked around to where Reese was standing, wiped his hand on his jeans and held it out to shake.

Gabby did the introductions. “Reese Markowski, I’d like to present Jacob Hanks, my brother.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Reese said.

But Jacob’s lip curled and he pulled back his hand. “Markowski? As in, the Markowskis who live on Elder Lane?”

Reese nodded. “That’s my aunt and uncle. Do you know them?”

“Oh, I know them,” Jacob said. “I know them well enough to know that I don’t want anything to do with them, or any program they’re connected with.”

“Jacob! Be polite!” Gabby knew the Markowskis could be hard to deal with, but she didn’t want Jacob to ruin his chances to do something constructive with his break. “I didn’t know you’d ever spent enough time here to meet Reese’s aunt and uncle.”

“Last summer,” he growled, and then Gabby remembered. She’d been so overwhelmed over on the other side of the state, what with working and caring for Izzy, that she’d barely registered the fact that Jacob had visited Nana last summer. Now that she thought about it, Nana had told her the visit was going on a bit longer than scheduled.

Reese’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to go into it.” Jacob dug his hands deeper into his pockets and stared at the ground.

Reese watched him, and compassion crossed his face. “My aunt and uncle can be difficult,” he said. “If it makes you feel any better, I was the outcast kid in that family. The poor cousin who came to live with them after my parents died. So I’m not exactly one of them.”

Jacob’s eyes flashed toward Reese’s face for a second of raw connection. Gabby guessed he hadn’t met many people who had lost their parents young. She knew herself that it made her feel different from others her age. How much more that must be the case for a teenager.

Reese had always seemed a little sad, a little haunted. It had given him strength and understanding beyond the other high school boys; that had been a part of his appeal. She could see that he still had that going for him, just from the kind way he spoke to her half brother.

“It would be something for you to do over the break,” Gabby said. “Why don’t you give it a chance?”

“I’d like to have you join us,” Reese said. “I could use another older boy. Role models for the younger ones.”

“Are you kidding me? You think I might be a role model?” Jacob rolled his eyes at Gabby. “Talk to your aunt and uncle, is all I can say.”

“I will. But a lot of the kids in the program have issues. The past is the past.”

Gratitude washed over Gabby. Reese was really trying to make this work, just on the strength of her and Jacob’s and Nana’s needs.

“I don’t want to do it.” Jacob shrugged and blew out a breath, making his long bangs puff up, and suddenly, despite the beard stubble, he looked like a little kid. “All I want to do is take a nap. Do we have to decide about this right now?”

Reese chuckled. “That’s about the smartest thing anyone has said all day,” he said. “Gabby, I’ll see you Monday morning. You can bring Jacob if he decides he wants to come, as long as his official guardian agrees. We can do the paperwork then.”

“Thanks,” Gabby said faintly. She couldn’t believe that Reese had so readily agreed to take in the teenager. But she shouldn’t have been surprised. That was who he was.

The problem was, seeing him be a compassionate man was making her fall for him again, even harder than she had when she was in high school. And because of what had happened, he was the last man she should get involved with.

Two days later, right after Sunday services, Reese wiped his brow in the overly heated meeting room just off the fellowship hall. The presentation to the church board and a small audience from the congregation wasn’t going especially well, but it wasn’t going badly.

Reese felt like he had some impressive charts and statistics, but members of the board kept looking out the window at the flurries that had started to fall. A lot of them were nervous drivers and didn’t like to drive in any kind of bad weather, even in broad daylight.

Ideally, they’d agree to fund his program for the next year and hurry home to Sunday dinner. He answered a couple of questions and then looked to the chairperson, hoping to get a quick vote.

And then Santiago Romano stood, leaning on his cane, dark eyes challenging. “When you proposed this program, I didn’t think it would be for that kind of kids,” Mr. Romano said. “I was picturing more of a friendly day camp for kids whose parents have to work while they’re on school break.”

“That’s what it is.” Reese tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, because he knew exactly what Mr. Romano meant. But he wasn’t going to say it himself. If the man wanted to show his snobbery, the words needed to come out of his own mouth. “The kids in the program, for the most part, have parents who are working, some of them two jobs. The Rescue Haven program has been giving them something constructive to do after school since September, and now, that support is continuing through the Christmas vacation.”

“But these are kids in trouble,” Mr. Romano said stubbornly. “Kids who may get into more trouble when they’re all together in a gang, at loose ends all day.”

“The point is, they won’t be at loose ends if you continue to fund the program,” Reese said. “They’re working with dogs other people have abandoned, helping to train and rehabilitate them. And doing sports, and games, and having meals together.” Reese hesitated, not wanting to call the older man out, but he needed to speak up for his boys. “Rather than calling them kids in trouble, I prefer to call them kids at risk.”

“Are we a church who won’t take risks?” Nana’s best friend, Bernadette Williams, was the oldest member of the board, though only by a year or two. “Risks are how great things get accomplished. I like what Reese is doing. These young people need something to bring out the best in them. Reese knows about that, and he’ll do a good job with it.”

“Hear, hear,” came a voice from the small audience. It sounded like Nana, but Reese couldn’t see her.

If Nana was here, did that mean Gabby was, as well?

Reese scanned the room. Board members sat at a large conference table, and interested members of the congregation occupied several rows of chairs at the back of the room.

He hoped some of the other board members would speak up in support, but they were silent.

Reese knew why. They respected Bernadette’s opinions, but Mr. Romano’s money funded so many of the church’s outreaches that everyone was hesitant to offend him.

Time to bring out the big guns. “I have here a copy of the church’s mission,” Reese said, pulling it up on his smartphone. “To spread the gospel of Jesus, through actions as much as through words, with a special mission for the poor.” He looked up and focused on Bernadette’s smiling face. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’d like to respectfully request continuation of funding for the next calendar year.”

Mr. Romano must have heard the murmurs of approval throughout the room, because he switched tactics. “I wasn’t expecting the program to be right next door to me,” he said. “You have those kids on the edge of town, close to some of our bigger homes, where stealing is a big temptation. Don’t they pose a danger to the community?”

“They’re well supervised, and we haven’t had any problems with the after-school program.” Thus far, the kids had limited their bad behavior to arguing with each other. Well, and nearly coming to blows, but there was no need to mention that. “As for the property, I did a lot of due diligence,” Reese went on. “I leased the best property I could find, for the best price. I want to be a good steward of the donors’ resources.”

“Yeah, well, that property has always been an eyesore.” Mr. Romano’s grumble was quiet, but Reese heard it and winced inwardly. He hated to see the old man reduced to insults.

“Permission to speak?” The clear voice from the audience belonged to Nana. So she was here. There was some shifting around as Gabby helped her to stand and walk out to a small podium set up in the aisle between the rows of chairs.

Reese’s heart gave a great thump. He hadn’t seen Gabby at church, and now the sight of her in a green sweater, denim skirt and high boots went directly to his heart.

Reese’s neck heated. He wanted to impress her—still, which was ridiculous—and he wasn’t looking exactly stellar right now.

Not that that mattered. Not at all. He wasn’t trying to build a relationship with Gabby; it would never work, and besides that, he wasn’t even interested. She’d dumped him before and she’d do it again.

“I believe there’s something in the Bible that talks about not building up mansions on earth,” Nana said. “If I don’t want to spend money making my house a showpiece, I have my reasons for it. I donate to the church’s outreach programs. And while I can’t donate as much cash as some—” she eyed Santiago Romano “—I do what I can. Including giving this program an excellent deal on rental of the barn and fields.”

“There’s no Bible verse about not building mansions, Estelle,” Mr. Romano said, a smile in his voice.

“I can quote it.” Nana glared at him. “‘Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal.’ Matthew six, verses nineteen and twenty.”

“There’s more to that passage,” Mr. Romano sputtered.

“Yes, there is.” Nana was still standing, and now she pointed a bony finger at Mr. Romano. “It has to do with laying up treasures in heaven, which is what this young man—” she nodded at Reese “—is trying to do.”

Mr. Romano still looked ready to argue. He opened his mouth.

“And what’s more,” Nana said, cutting him off, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. That’s in the book of Matthew, sir, said by our Lord Himself. Even you can’t argue with Jesus.”

Reese could barely stifle a laugh at how thoroughly Nana had shut down Mr. Romano.

Gabby put an arm around Nana and encouraged her back into her seat as murmurs went through the crowd. Some were amused, because the feud between Mr. Romano and Nana went back years. Some sounded more disapproving; a board member behind Reese was speaking, and Reese overheard the words inappropriate and not the right place.

Bernadette cleared her throat and stood, and the room quieted down. “I do have a concern, Reese,” she said. “Do you have enough help to run this Christmas-break program, given that your main assistant had to leave unexpectedly?”

“I’m in the process of hiring a new assistant,” Reese said.

“Tammy?” Bernadette’s voice held the faintest tinge of skepticism. Around the room, people were looking at one another, and Reese knew why. Tammy’s heart was in the right place, but she didn’t have a reputation for being focused and responsible.

“No,” Reese said before the murmurs could rise louder. “The candidate I’m working with has most of a degree in education and a lot of good ideas.”

“May I ask who it is? Someone from Bethlehem Springs?” Bernadette was still standing.

While Reese was glad she had taken charge of the discussion, getting Mr. Romano off center stage, he knew how insistent Bernadette could be when it was a question of doing the right thing. “It’s Gabby Hanks,” he said.

A murmur rose in the room. Reese looked around, wondering what it was about.

But Bernadette gave a nod, put her hands on her hips and looked around the room until the murmuring stopped. “I suggest we see what Reese can do. If he manages the children well through this break, then we’ll know the program can be expanded, and we’ll have a better basis to fund it through the next year.”

“But how will we know if he manages it well?” the board’s accountant, Mike Watson, asked. “What criteria are we using? How will we assess the outcomes?”

Bernadette opened her mouth to speak, but there was another flurry back in Nana’s part of the room, and then Gabby stood. Her cheeks were pink, her mouth determined. “How about if we have the kids and animals do some kind of a performance for the church? A Christmas performance?”

“What’s your vision, Gabby?” Bernadette asked. “How would that help us assess the results?”

Reese didn’t know how he’d lost control of this discussion, but he needed to take it back. He opened his mouth to speak.

Gabby gave him a look, and because of their history together, he read it instantly. I’ve got this, relax, she seemed to say with her eyes. “If the boys are able to work together toward a productive goal that entertains the community, that’ll show that they can work toward other productive goals,” she said. “And by attending and supporting the performance, the church members can show that they understand our mission.” She looked pointedly at Santiago Romano as she said it.

Reese hid a small smile. Despite the fact that this was likely to be a disaster, he admired Gabby’s spunk.

Gabby glanced at Reese, then went on. “The Sunday before Christmas, or the early Christmas Eve service, might be good times to give the pastor and choirs a break. But we could do it on a weeknight instead. Whatever would help out the church.”

Mr. Romano started to laugh. “Boy, if you can pull that off with those kids, you’ll be doing something very surprising.”

“Christmas is the season of wonderful surprises,” Gabby said gently.

“That it is,” Bernadette said. “If we can all agree to this proposal, we can get on the road and home to our families. I’d suggest Tuesday evening, the twenty-third, which gives you just over a week. All in favor?”

Thank you, Bernadette. Everyone wanted to get home. There was a chorus of ayes, and just a couple of nays, one belonging to Mr. Romano. No surprise there.

As people hurried to gather their coats and hats, Reese blew out a breath. Thanks to Gabby, he now had a clear-cut goal. With a breathtakingly short time line.

He had to make this program a success. With his disability, he couldn’t do what he’d always planned to do, carpentry. And he seriously doubted that he could form a family; even before he’d become disabled, he’d never been especially smooth with women. The one woman he’d fallen in love with—Gabby—had dumped him.

If he could make a go of this program, he could have a different kind of a family, and meaning in his life.

Few people gathered around the coffeepot afterward, but Gabby was among them, and he tapped her on the shoulder and gestured her off to the side. “You’ve set us up to do something difficult,” he said.

“I’m sorry. It just came to me.”

She looked so penitent that he felt bad. “I’m not upset about it. It’s a good idea,” he said, and when her face brightened, his heart lifted, too. He needed to get himself under control. They were working together and that was it. “It’s definitely going to be a challenge, and we need to get started right away. Can you meet me this afternoon so we can start to figure out how we’re going to make it work?”

She glanced at Nana, still seated. “I think I can,” she said.

That made Reese realize that he hadn’t seen young Jacob at the church service. He wondered how things were going in the household.

Still, it was Gabby who had brought up this possibility, and Reese knew next to nothing about putting on a show. “I really need you to step up and help with it,” he said.

She nodded. “I’ll do my best,” she said, her voice subdued.

So now, rather than his usual quiet Sunday afternoon avoiding his aunt and uncle’s family gathering, Reese was going to be working with the very pretty lady who’d already broken his heart once.

He just had to make sure he didn’t let her do it again.

Chapter Three

“I’m so glad Cleo’s Crafts and Café is still here.” Gabby sipped peppermint hot chocolate and looked around the cozy place. Steam blurred the windows, making the café its own little world. There were only about ten tables. Up front, a pastry case held Cleo’s famous concoctions, heavily leaning toward Christmas items at this time of year: chocolate pinwheel cookies and gingerbread boys and chocolate-pecan chess pie.

Reese looked around, too. “You haven’t been gone that long, have you?” He sipped his own flavored coffee. “I’m surprised you’re surprised.”

“It seems like forever ago.” Then she flushed, because she wasn’t referring to the last time she’d been home; she was referring to their high school years, when they’d been falling in love.

“It’s different because we’re different,” he said. Maybe he didn’t know it, but his hand went to his arm. Today, he was wearing a prosthetic, obvious because of the pincerlike hook in place of his right hand.

Curiosity won out over decorum. “Why do you wear a prosthetic some days and not others?”

“Getting used to it. It’s a process.” He leveled a steady gaze at her. “You seem different from when we were kids, too.”

I’m different because I’m a mom. “We should figure out the show,” she said briskly, trying to get back to business. And avoid telling him about Izzy. Which shouldn’t be a big deal, but she hated the thought of his questions. Despite all her counseling, she still felt a heated rush of shame at the idea of talking about it. “I feel bad to have volunteered you for something you don’t want to do, but I think it’ll be great.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Tell me what you were thinking. I don’t exactly have a vision.”

She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Tell me about your boys. Ages, abilities, things like that.”

He nodded, sipping coffee. “Like I mentioned to Jacob, they’re eleven to fifteen. But skewed toward the younger side. I think we have...three each of eleven-and twelve-year-olds. Two thirteen-year-olds, and one each of fourteen and fifteen. Two fifteen-year-olds if Jacob joins.”

She nodded, making notes. “And how do the dogs fit in?” She’d seen them when she’d been in the barn before: the one Doberman that seemed to roam around, a row of kennels in the back of the barn and an open yard area separate from where the boys gathered in the front.

“In a way, the dogs are similar to the boys,” he said wryly. “Most have behavior problems and that’s why they were surrendered.”

“All breeds?”

He nodded. “But I try to make it so there’s one dog per boy. Their job is to train that one dog.”

She put down her pen. “Uh-oh. Will Jacob mess that up? Can he get a dog this late in the game?”

“There are always dogs that need help,” he said. “See, the overall vision is...” He trailed off, looking just a little shy.

“Tell me.” She set her cup down and leaned forward a little. Reese had always been a dreamer, the rare kind who could put his dreams into action. When she’d been falling in love with him in high school, his dreams had been of beautiful cabinets and chairs and tables he could make. He’d looked at a piece of wood, even scrap wood, and seen all its possibilities.

“Well. I got into training dogs, a little, in rehab.” He made a disparaging gesture toward his prosthetic. “They had therapy dogs, and I kind of bonded with one of them who was about to flunk out. Got him over his fear of prosthetics, actually. Showed a talent, so they gave me a couple other troubled dogs to train.”

“That’s cool, but how’d you learn to do it? I mean, your aunt and uncle had Fifi, but...”

He rolled his eyes. “Fifi. May she rest in peace after eighteen years of giving everyone nothing but trouble.”

“She wasn’t exactly trained, it’s true.” Gabby chuckled. “She did have a lot of cute outfits, though.”

“Don’t remind me. But you know...” He trailed off, looking thoughtful. “I’d guess that, now, with what I’ve learned, I could actually train Fifi.”

She was fascinated, because he’d taken on the same dreamy-yet-passionate look he’d had when she’d known him years ago. “How did you learn what you know?”

“Online videos. Books. After I got better, they let me take a couple of dogs through agility training.”

“All this was through the VA?”

He nodded. “Because while I thought I was rehabilitating dogs, I was actually getting rehabilitated myself.” He sipped coffee. “So when I came home, and there was no possibility of carpentry, there was a need for someone to take over a grant-funded after-school program for at-risk boys. I added the element of dog training, and...Rescue Haven was born.”

“I have a feeling there was more to it.” But she admired his sense of industry, going directly into another line of work. “Reese, can I ask...why’d you come back to Bethlehem Springs?”

He looked out the window. The street was busy with people: couples strolling, families with kids, Christmas shoppers overloaded with bags. “My aunt and uncle needed me.”

“But they always—” She broke off. “I’m impressed that you did that for them, is all.”

“Because they favored Brock? Didn’t really want to take me in? I know,” he said. “But when he passed, they were devastated. Aunt Catherine, especially. My uncle came to visit me at the VA hospital and asked me to come back for at least a year, just to try to pull her out of her slump.”

She stared at him, remembering the cold, snobbish woman who’d rarely had a kind word for anyone. “You did that for her.”

He shrugged. “Uncle Clive pulled strings to get me funding for the dog aspect of the Rescue Haven program,” he explained. “I figured, if I couldn’t do what I wanted to do, at least I could do some good.” He drained his coffee. “Come on. Let’s walk and talk.”

She remembered that about him, then, that he always preferred to be moving. It was why he’d wanted to work with his hands rather than in an office; it was part of the reason he’d gone into the military.

They carried their cups to the counter and then headed outside.

The sun peeked through clouds, and there was a dusting of snow on the ground. The cold air made Gabby wrap her scarf around her neck and put up her furry hood. Reese, just like he used to, went bareheaded.

The temptation to reach for his hand was strong. They’d flowed so easily back into talking, just like old times. Sharing dreams.

He looked down at her as they walked, and she got the strangest feeling that he was fighting the same impulse. They’d strolled down these streets together so many times.

But he looked away and straightened. “Anyway,” he said, his voice going businesslike, “we should figure out this show, because we’re going to need to start practicing and getting organized right away.”

“True.” She frowned, thinking. “It’s got to be a kids and dogs show, somehow. Ooh, let’s go into Mistletoe from Mindy,” she said as they turned a corner. “It’s sure to give us some ideas.”

“You think?” he asked, sounding skeptical. But he held the door for her while they walked into the Christmas-themed shop. The scents of pine and gingerbread filled the air, and every possible display spot held ornaments, garlands and Christmas dishes.

Gabby spun slowly, looking at everything. “We should bring the boys here. It’ll help them get creative.”

Reese groaned. “The thought of all those big, clumsy boys in here... No. Just no.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“It’s in a church,” he said. “Shouldn’t it be, like, a nativity pageant or something?”

“Dressing the dogs up like stable animals?” She frowned. “That would be cute, but would the boys go for it?”

“Doubtful,” he said.

She’d learned in her education classes that kids needed a sense of control. “In fact, we probably should let them do the planning, make up the show.”

He stared at her. “Do you know how...inappropriate a bunch of boys can be?”

“Oh, I’m sure they can.” She fingered a Santa ornament. “But if we explain to them that it’s for a church, and that it will help keep the program going, they may step up.”

He looked skeptical as they meandered through the shop.

“The alternative is having them sneer through a kid-like program they hate.” She was thinking of Jacob now.

“You have a good point,” he admitted. “At the same time, this is really important to me. The show is like a test. Do we really want to leave it in the hands of a small group of troubled boys?”

She bit her lip. “It’s scary. But if we explain how high the stakes are...”

“Let me think about it,” he said as they reached the door again and headed out of the shop. “That’s going to take an awful lot of trust.”

“In the boys?”

“In God,” he said.

She tilted her head, looking at him. That wasn’t something the younger Reese would have said.

“How about we ask Jacob his opinion? That’ll give us a test run of what the boys might think of, and also draw him into the program.” He met her eyes, his own crinkling in the now bright sunlight.

She drew in a sharp breath. Reese was so handsome. Tall, muscular and athletic, with those rare blue eyes that stood out against his dark complexion and hair.

Add a sincere faith and compassion into the mix, and he was almost irresistible.

Except she had to resist him. Because he was inevitably going to find out about Izzy, and she knew intuitively how much that would upset him. They’d both valued saving intimacy for marriage.

That choice had been taken away from Gabby.

Reese could never, ever find out about the circumstances of Izzy’s conception. That would devastate him and his whole family. And even though she knew better intellectually, it would cause her shame.

So she needed to flip the switch on this attraction to Reese. Unfortunately, she had the feeling it wasn’t going to be easy to do.

That night, Reese looked down at the big, drooling dog beside him and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if this’ll work, Biff. You’ll have to be on good behavior.”

The dog ignored him, lifting his leg in the light of the streetlamp in front of Nana’s house.

So much for making a good impression. He urged the dog up the porch steps, brushed a hand over his hair and reached down to adjust Biff’s floppy ear before ringing Nana’s doorbell.

Jacob opened the door, which Reese figured was a good sign. At least the teen wasn’t sulking in his room.

In fact, when he looked past Jacob, he saw a puzzle on a card table in the middle of the living room. Gabby and Nana were sitting at the table, and a soda by a third chair suggested that Jacob had been working on the puzzle, too. A Christmas movie was on the old-fashioned TV in the corner. Evergreen garlands looped up the stair railing, and a small, lopsided tree stood in the corner, half-decorated.

The house was shabby, but Reese had always appreciated how homey it was.

“I was hoping I could come in and talk to you for a few minutes,” he said to Jacob. “Problem is, I have someone with me. Would your grandmother mind if I brought in a dog?”

Jacob looked down, and his eyes widened. “Come on in,” he said, and pulled the door wide open.

“Sit,” Reese commanded, keeping the dog in the entryway.

Biff cocked his enormous head as if he was trying to understand.

Reese gave up and looked past Jacob to Nana. “Biff is big, but gentle,” he said. “I was hoping to talk to Jacob for a few minutes about him, but I know not everyone likes dogs in the house. Should I take him back outside?”

“Come in, come in,” she said in her raspy voice. “We’d love to have a visit. Gabby, could you take his coat and get him something to drink?”

“Um, sure.” There was a pause, and then Gabby stood. She seemed to swallow before walking across the room and then holding out a hand for his coat. Her smile looked forced, and it seemed as if she was dragging her feet with every step. She didn’t even seem to notice the dog.

Reese must have misread her signals this afternoon. He had gotten the feeling that maybe Gabby still had some of the old feelings. But now she looked like she’d rather see anyone else than him.

Focus on the boy and dog, he counseled himself.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Her words were wooden.

“No. I won’t be staying long.” Since you’re obviously not happy to see me. “I just wanted to get a little input from Jacob before we talk to the rest of the boys about the show tomorrow. And introduce him to Biff.”

Jacob was standing a few feet away from the dog, staring at him. “Why do you want to introduce me to this dog?”

“Because I’m hoping you’ll take him on as your project,” he said, “if you decide to do our program. He’s a little much for the other boys to handle, but since you’re bigger and older than most of them, I think you’d be good at it. Up to you, though.”

Gabby gave him a quick glance, looking much more friendly. Thank you, she mouthed to him.

Warmth suffused his chest. He was glad he’d come.

“I don’t know much about dogs,” Jacob said, “but I’d like to learn.”

Now Gabby and Nana stared at each other, eyebrows raised in identical expressions. Reese was guessing that Jacob’s attitude hadn’t been consistently upbeat and eager to learn thus far.

“Terrific.” Reese kept his voice casual. You didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm around teenagers or they’d balk. “Maybe you could get to know him a little. And would you mind talking to Gabby and me about this show we’re being asked to put on?”

“Sure.”

They walked into the front room, and Gabby turned down the sound on the television. Quickly, Reese explained about the show and how important it was. “So we were thinking the boys could plan the show, but I’m wondering whether they’ll be up to it. Wanted to get a teenager’s perspective.”

“We watch videos all the time,” Jacob said with a shrug. “Probably could make a show like some of those.”

“Those music videos are full of bad language,” Nana said. “Why, I’ve learned words I never heard in my life, volunteering down at the mission for families.”

“The show’s going to be in a church. There can’t be any bad language.” Gabby looked at Jacob. “Do you think the boys will be able to do that?”

“How would I know?” Jacob stuffed his hands into his pockets, still staring at the dog. “I don’t even know these kids.”

Reese accepted Jacob’s mood shift with equanimity. He’d learned a ton about kids in a few short months, and that went with the territory. “What would make a project like that fun for you?”

“Being able to do whatever we wanted,” Jacob said. “And music.”

“Like Christmas carols?” Gabby asked.

“No way!” Jacob said. “But...”

“Yeah?” Reese dangled a treat in front of Biff’s nose, trying to get him to lie down. It didn’t work.

“There is some good Christmas music that’s popular,” Jacob said reluctantly. “Maybe the guys would go for that.”

“Maybe you could help talk them into it.” Reese kept his eyes on the dog, not wanting to pressure Jacob too much. “You’re older and from out of town. They might listen to you.”

“That’s if I do the program.”

“Right.” Reese stood to leave. “I sure hope you do, for Biff’s sake, if nothing else.” He pounded the dog’s side. “He doesn’t seem to be learning anything I try to teach him.”

Jacob reached out a hand and touched Biff’s head, and his face morphed into a smile as he ran a hand over the dog’s soft ears.

A sound came from one of the bedrooms at the back of the house. It sounded almost like... Yes, that was a baby’s cry, now rising to a higher volume.

Huh? Reese looked at the three people gathered. “You have a baby here?”

Nana smiled. “My great-granddaughter,” she said proudly.

“Who never shuts up,” Jacob added, rolling his eyes.

Gabby looked sick.

Reese tried to puzzle this out. Nana’s great-granddaughter must be... He stared at Gabby.

“I was hoping she was down for the night,” Nana said. “Guess that’s too much to ask for from a nine-month-old baby.”

Reese’s head was spinning. “Whose baby?” he asked as he did the math in his mind.

The baby’s cries got louder.

“Better go get her,” Nana said to Gabby, who’d been standing as if paralyzed, looking toward the back of the house.

Without a glance at Reese, Gabby left the room.

Nana watched after her proudly. “She’s such a good mom. Hasn’t had an easy time of it, but she does a fine job.”

He knelt to pet the dog, counting the months again, hoping he was wrong.

He wasn’t. Anger surged inside him.

Gabby’s baby must have been conceived the summer he’d left for the Middle East. Early in the summer, if she was nine months old now.

But they’d been together early in the summer. He’d left at the end of June.

That meant her baby had been conceived while they were dating. And he knew 100 percent that he wasn’t the father. He’d respected her boundaries, shared them. They’d never gone beyond a kiss.

Apparently, she hadn’t kept the same boundaries with someone else...even while she was promising Reese that she cared and would wait for him.

Chapter Four

Gabby had hoped that Reese would have settled down by Monday morning, but as soon as she pushed open the barn door and saw his face—narrow eyes, clenched jaw—she knew it hadn’t happened.

Most of the boys had already arrived, and she checked the time on her phone. 9:00 a.m., but apparently she and Jacob should arrive earlier, quarter till at the latest.

She put her purse and the file folder of ideas she’d brought onto the shelf outside of Reese’s office, amid the sound of boys yelling and laughing, quiet country music playing and dogs barking. Bales of hay and heaps of straw sent their fragrance through the air.

It could have been kind of idyllic. But there was Jacob, already off in a corner and standing sullenly by himself. There were two of the boys clearly trying to impress the others by baiting one of the dogs, holding a toy in front of its nose and then jerking it away. And when she started toward them to put a stop to it, there was Reese, stepping in front of her, giving her a dismissive wave that clearly said he didn’t think she was competent to take care of the situation.

Meeting their deadline, putting a show together in a week, wasn’t going to be easy. Especially if Reese was hating on her.

Without consulting her or acting like she was a part of things, Reese called the boys together and explained the need for a show. He suggested that they look online for some Christmas pageant scripts, which didn’t exactly make the boys enthusiastic. She waited for him to mention the idea of letting the boys take some control and making up their own show, but he didn’t.

He was discounting her ideas and keeping her out of the authority loop, making her seem like just a helper. It wasn’t the way he’d described the job to her, but she needed to make money, and she needed for this job to work. It was best for Jacob, for Nana and for Izzy.

She should just hold back, let him run the program the way he wanted to run it, stay on the sidelines. But when a couple of boys started covertly punching each other while Reese was trying unsuccessfully to get Jacob to share his ideas, she couldn’t keep quiet.

Maybe letting the boys have a strong voice in planning their own show would be a disaster, but would it be any worse than what was happening right now? She raised her hand, and when Reese didn’t notice, she stood and waved her hand more visibly, at the same time stepping between the two boys who were fighting.

“Could I make a suggestion?” she asked. “And I’d need everyone to pay attention,” she added, looking sternly at the boys who’d been fighting.

Oh, how Reese wanted to say no: it was obvious, written in every tense line of his body. But to his credit, he didn’t display his lack of enthusiasm in front of the kids. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Maybe some of the boys could brainstorm about an original show while others do online research about Christmas pageants that are already out there. We could regroup and report out. I think that would help some of the boys focus.” She gave another warning glance to the two fighting boys, to let them know she was onto their tricks. “And if you don’t have a different idea for grouping them, I’m going to suggest that we count off.”

Reese frowned. “How about the boys can choose whether they want to work on original ideas or do research. Original-idea guys, over at the table. Research guys, gather around the computers. And anyone who doesn’t choose, we’ll count you off and assign you to a group.”

The boys immediately went to one group or the other, probably because nobody wanted to get counted off like kindergartners. The group around original ideas was bigger, but there were enough boys willing to cluster around the program’s two laptops that it wasn’t too bad of a discrepancy. By unspoken agreement, she and Reese circulated between the two groups, and eventually, both hummed along in a rowdy kind of productivity.

She kept glancing over at Reese, but he never met her eyes. Of course not. He was furious that she’d conceived a baby while they were dating, at least, as he saw it.

The idea of talking to him about it made her insides twist. She hated thinking about that horrible night. She’d had counseling, yes, and she’d sort of dealt with it, but she still felt that slick twist of shame every time she approached it mentally, so she usually refocused on other things whenever thoughts of Izzy’s conception came up.

Avoiding the subject wasn’t doable now, though. She was going to have to work with Reese, and if he was going to be sullen and angry, it would be conveyed to the boys. It would interfere with the job they had to do. That wasn’t right.

When the boys showed signs of being pretty involved with their projects, she approached Reese, heart pounding. “Could we talk for a few minutes?” she asked.

He frowned. “Don’t you think they need supervision?”

“Well...” She shrugged. “Yes, but I also think we need to clear the air. How about if we meet in the outer office where we can keep an eye on them?”

His lips tightened and he looked off to the side. He was going to say no.

But finally, he nodded.

She followed him to the anteroom of his office, stopping when he turned to face her. His arms were crossed, his expression set.

Her heart sank. Could she speak the truth to someone as closed-off as Reese? Someone she’d once loved, or thought she did?

Part of the truth, at least. She cleared her throat. “Last night, you found out I have a child,” she began.

He looked out toward the boys. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

“I know it must have made you angry.”

“I have no right to get angry,” he said, still without looking at her. “It’s in the past.”

“I agree you have no right,” she said, “but you are angry. And if we’re going to work together, I think I need to tell you a few things.”

He sighed and met her eyes. “Look, Gabby, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Don’t talk, then. Listen.” She drew in a breath. She couldn’t tell him about his cousin. When Brock had died only hours after assaulting her, she’d made the decision not to disturb his family’s memory of him. She wasn’t crazy about Brock’s parents, but they’d been devastated about the loss of their only son. She’d prayed about it, and talked to her counselor about it and decided not to add to their trauma.

Now, after a year and a half, no one would believe her, least of all Reese.

Brock had been a popular athlete; she was a poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks. He’d warned her not to tell anyone, asserting that they wouldn’t believe she hadn’t consented, right before getting drunkenly into the car that he’d driven to his death.

She didn’t respect Brock’s opinion about much, but she knew he was right about that.

Now, to Reese, she’d say what she could of the truth. “I could tell you were counting the months,” she said, “and from your reaction, I’d guess you’re thinking Izzy was conceived when we were seeing each other. But she was six weeks premature.”

He looked skeptical. “Convenient excuse.”

Anger fired inside her, a hot ball in her chest. “Actually, it wasn’t convenient at all. She almost died, and I did, too, from preeclampsia.” What she didn’t say was that she’d wanted to die.

Most of that was about the assault and carrying Brock’s baby. Lots of hormones washing around in her system. Being isolated as a pregnant girl, then a young mother in a college town full of partying teenagers.

And the fact that you’d dumped me by email didn’t help.

She’d thought they had a great relationship. When she’d pulled herself back together after the assault, all she’d wanted was to talk to Reese, cry on his shoulder even if by phone. But she hadn’t been able to reach him for several weeks.

She’d thought he was busy with soldier stuff, but in mid-August, she’d gotten the stiff, cold email from him: I don’t want to be involved with you anymore. Please stop contacting me.

In the year and a half since then, she’d gained some perspective. Wartime did things to people, not the least of which was throwing soldiers together in intense, emotional situations. He’d probably met someone else, or realized he wanted to, and hadn’t known how to tell her.

She’d gotten over it, or mostly. Been too busy to think about it. Moved on. Could he do the same?

His eyebrows came together as he studied her, and she could see the debate inside him of whether to believe her about Izzy’s being premature.

When he didn’t speak, just kept looking at her, she spread her hands and shrugged. “Look, it’s nothing to do with you and I’m not going to dig up medical records to prove she was premature. I just wanted to let you know that I didn’t... That nothing happened when we were dating.”

“So it happened when you went back to college... Sorry.” He held up a hand, shook his head. “Never mind. Not my business.”

She hesitated. “Right.” And then she felt like a liar. She meant he was right that it wasn’t his business, but of course, Izzy hadn’t been conceived back at college, but right here in Bethlehem Springs. He’d think she was agreeing with him that she’d been conceived at college.

But did it matter, when she wasn’t ever going to tell him the full circumstances of what had happened?

“Is her father...involved?”

She swallowed. “No.”

Sweat dripped down between her shoulder blades despite the cold day. Her stomach churned. Talking about Izzy’s father with Reese felt surreal. She didn’t know if she could handle much more of it. She should never have taken this job.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.