“Will Santa skip us this year because he doesn’t know we’re at a hotel instead of our old, burned-up house?”

Dylan swallowed, his heart aching for the child’s worries. The boys wouldn’t fully understand how much they’d lost in the fire for a while—the memories and surety that they would always be safe.

“We’ll leave a note at our old house with a cookie and some milk,” the boy’s twin brother said, and a smile replaced his worried look.

The children’s parents turned to Dylan and Jenna. “Thank you for all you’re doing for us. It’s so hard…to accept help.”

Jenna reached over and squeezed her hand, a warm smile on her face. “When you’re back on your feet, you can pay it forward, help someone else who’s going through a tough time. That way, the help keeps moving.”

Dylan stared at Jenna. Who was this woman and what had she done with the real Jenna Scott?

MILLS & BOON

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DANA CORBIT

Dana Corbit started telling “people stories” at about the same time she started forming words. So it came as no surprise when the Indiana native chose a career in journalism. As an award-winning newspaper reporter and features editor, she had the opportunity to share wonderful true-life stories with her readers. She left the workforce to be a homemaker, but the stories came home with her as she discovered the joy of writing fiction. The winner of the 2007 Holt Medallion competition for novel writing, Dana feels blessed to share the stories of her heart with readers.

Dana lives in southeast Michigan, where she balances the make-believe realm of her characters with her equally exciting real-life world as a wife, carpool coordinator for three athletic daughters and food supplier for two disinterested felines.

His Christmas Bride
Dana Corbit

And Jesus looked at them and said, “With men it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God.”

—Mark 10:27

To the Baxter boys—Brock, Dylan and Logan— who have inspired my fictional stories in more ways than just by lending me your names. You are all amazing young men, who I’m sure will be real-life heroes in the future. Also, to Melissa, my own Amy Warren. And, as always, to the POTLs, the six amazing women who inspire and push me to tell stories from my heart.

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

Chapter Eighteen

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

The house looked like a fire-department statistic just waiting to happen. Either that or the trigger for a power outage the likes of which southern Indiana had never known. Jenna Scott couldn’t decide which as she tromped up the walk toward the redbrick colonial, passing a riot of Christmas lights and a holiday amusement park along the way.

On one side of the walk, a half-scale crèche rested serenely on the lawn with animals, shepherds and wise men focused on the Christ child. On the other side, a trio of plastic carolers sang a scratchy version of “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” and a herd of mechanical reindeer bent to munch on artificial snow.

Could someone say “over the top”?

Her mother hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d mentioned that the Warrens’ Christmas display was “a sight to behold.” The celebration was also another excuse for best friends and matchmakers Trina Scott and Amy Warren to force their adult children together. They’d been campaigning for an event like this ever since the Scott-Warren matrimonial merger six months before. Jenna figured that whatever the evening held in store for her personally, it promised to be entertaining.

As she stepped to the door, decorated in green-foil gift wrap, a hum of voices spilled from inside, competing with Elvis bellowing “Blue Christmas.”

“So much for a quiet Christmas at home,” she told the life-size Santa doll that smiled at her from a wicker chair on the porch.

Suddenly that bah-humbug spirit filled her again, making the winter wonderland feel claustrophobic. It was only the second Christmas since her father died, and she doubted it would be any easier than last year. Visiting Markston wasn’t like coming home for the holidays, anyway. Markston wasn’t her home. Nowhere was, really.

Someone yanked open the door before she had the chance to knock, and Jenna found herself wrapped in a hug warm enough to cut through the December freeze.

“Jenna, dear, you finally made it,” Mrs. Warren said.

She stepped out of the woman’s embrace, glancing back at the outdoor decorations. “Wow. This is great.”

“I’m glad you like it. Now come in out of the cold before you catch your death.” Already Amy Warren was pulling Jenna into the entry where the rest of the Scotts and Warrens were gathered. Just being in the house again made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

Her mother gripped her in a tight hug. “We thought you’d never get here.”

“I told you my flight would get in after dinner, and I came straight from the airport.” Jenna gestured toward the deep-blue airline-attendant uniform she’d been wearing since she’d left her apartment that morning in Romulus, Michigan, and headed to Detroit Metro.

“It doesn’t matter now because we’re all here together again,” Trina told her.

“All here?” Jenna asked.

She scanned the faces of the other guests waiting to greet her. Newlyweds Matthew Warren and her younger sister, Haley, smiled over at her, Matthew’s four-year-old daughter, Lizzie, resting on his hip. Jenna’s other sister, Caroline, stood next to them, and the youngest Warren brother, Logan, was there, as well, but appeared to be inching toward the door.

They were not all there—the one member of the Warren family she’d hoped most to see was missing: Dylan. He was the whole reason she’d agreed to participate in this joint holiday celebration in the first place. The whole reason she hadn’t canceled the trip and stayed in Michigan.

“Am I missing something?”

Jenna startled at the sound coming from behind her, butterflies continuing their mad dance inside her belly. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the gruff voice she would have recognized anywhere. Leaning over the staircase railing with his wavy brown hair falling forward on his forehead was the best friend she’d ever had. The one who’d left a hole in her life when he’d removed himself from it.

For the space of a few breaths, she could only look up at him, following the lines of his face and settling on his warm chocolate eyes. Those eyes were amazing. If he were anyone else besides Dylan Warren…Jenna blinked, surprised by the strange path her thoughts had taken. But this was Dylan, even if the passing years had put more granite in the chiseled cheekbones, which had always contradicted his teddy-bear personality. His smile probably would look as friendly and unassuming as it always had…if he was smiling. He wasn’t.

“Hey, Dylan,” she choked out over the knot that had formed in her throat. “Oh, I mean, Dr. Dylan.” Now that he’d finished his doctor of optometry degree at Indiana University and had joined a local optometry practice, he’d earned that title, even if he didn’t look much like a medical professional now in a tan flannel shirt and jeans.

“Hi.” He cleared his throat. “Dylan’s fine.”

Only Dylan didn’t appear to be fine. He didn’t even make eye contact with her as he shuffled down the stairs and joined the others in living room. Her heart sank.

Jenna didn’t know what she’d expected. That when he saw her, the four years of distance and the misunderstanding that caused them would fall away so they could resume their friendship as if it had only been a pause in their conversation? Hadn’t the awkwardness between them last summer at Matthew and Haley’s wedding clued her in that it wouldn’t be so easy? But she’d wished, anyway.

She couldn’t allow herself to be discouraged, though, not when she’d prayed for a chance to try to make it up to Dylan for the day she’d treated his feelings so cavalierly. This visit might be the chance she’d hoped for.

Four years ago, she’d excused her actions by telling herself she hadn’t realized that their plans had been firm, let alone that he’d thought it was a real date, instead of just hanging out. Now she saw that situation—saw a lot of things—through new eyes.

Before she could say anything, Jenna was swallowed in one of those Warren-Scott hug fests where she couldn’t distinguish one form from the next in the crush. She couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t believe Dylan was among those who hugged her.

“Now that we’re all here,” Amy Warren began after all the greetings ended, “we need to get started on the Christmas festivities.”

“Yeah, we’d better hurry up and get started before Easter comes and we’ve missed it,” Logan piped up, earning a frown from his mother and a few chuckles from the others.

Jenna realized she was looking again at Dylan and quickly began to scan the indoor holiday decorations. Too much of a good thing was the only way she could describe the pine garland that was draped over every stair railing, curtain rod and windowsill.

The coffee table had been transformed into a miniature Christmas village. Several manger scenes and a Madonna figurine covered other tables and shelves. The individual pieces were lovely, but when compiled this way, they created a frenzied feeling in the room, which did nothing to help Jenna calm her nerves.

“The only thing missing is a tree,” Jenna breathed.

Logan tapped his head as if she’d just given him a great idea. “Good thing we’re going to the Christmas-tree farm to cut one down.”

Jenna turned to her mother and raised an eyebrow. Now the way Dylan and the others were dressed and the line of hiking boots by the door made sense.

“Didn’t I mention we’d be tree hunting tonight?” Her mother wore a sheepish grin.

“No, you didn’t. Anyway, didn’t you look at the weather forecast?”

“The rain isn’t expected until after midnight.”

Caroline stepped closer to Jenna. “Mom didn’t warn me, either. She only said we would be participating in the Warren family’s Christmas traditions this year to celebrate the new connection between our families.”

Jenna nodded, having heard the same story. She hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of sharing in another family’s holiday traditions. Her own family’s celebrations had been portable at best because of her father’s frequent corporate relocations. She’d needed no reminder of how their wreaths and ornaments had hung in different family rooms every year or so.

Jenna glanced over to where the middle Warren brother stood. Dylan would understand those bittersweet memories. He’d been her only constant after each of her family’s moves—only a phone call or a text message away. But as she watched him now, his attention was focused on something in the family room, as if he hadn’t heard the conversation. Or didn’t care.

“Come in here,” Amy Warren said as she ushered them into the room where Dylan had been looking. “Then I’ll give you our agenda.”

Jenna followed gamely as Amy led them toward the huge sectional sofa. She took her place on one end, noting that Dylan sat at the opposite end.

Amy stood in the center of the L-shaped couch as if leading a class. “Okay, we’ll begin with tonight’s tree cutting. Reverend Boggs and his wife, Lila, were supposed to join us, but he called to say something came up at church.”

“Did he say if everything was okay?” Matthew asked. As an attorney who also worked as the weekend music minister at Community Church of Markston, he was usually in the loop regarding most church matters.

“He only said they would catch up with us here later.” Mrs. Warren sent a glance Jenna’s way, noting her outfit. “We have clothes for you upstairs.”

“See how well they outfitted me?” Caroline modeled a red flannel shirt with sleeves that hung off her hands.

“Is that how Dylan’s shirt fits you?” Trina asked her daughter, a secretive smile playing on her lips.

“Quit it, Mom,” Caroline warned in a low voice.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Keep it that way.”

No one could blame Caroline for being cautious after their mothers tried to arrange a match between Caroline and Matthew Warren last spring, only to have Matthew and Haley fall in love, instead. Caroline wouldn’t appreciate any more shenanigans from their two moms with their ridiculous plan to arrange marriages among their children.

Their matchmaking attempt this time was particularly funny. Jenna’s type-A, corporate-ladder-climbing-retail-executive sister matched with quirky, laid-back Dylan Warren? That was enough to pull the smirk right off her face: she didn’t like the idea of Dylan being set up with Caroline.

It was a fleeting, silly thought, but as Jenna tucked it away, a more powerful musing settled into its place. Their meddling mothers had already enjoyed one success in their matchmaking scheme, which they’d always jokingly referred to as The Plan. Did their achievement mean they would up their games now? Would they be able to convince Dylan and Caroline that their mothers knew best, no matter what their initial objections? She tried to picture herself at Dylan and Caroline’s wedding and almost had to leave the room. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like it one bit.

Tonight was even tougher than Dylan had expected it would be. The prospect of having Jenna Scott in town for an interminable two weeks had already scored high on his dread scale, but the combination of sitting in the same room as Jenna and listening to his mother tell them her plans for another dysfunctional Warren family Christmas had topped even that.

Both reminded him of things he could never have. Both evoked humiliating memories best left in the past.

“Remember, tree trimming is only the beginning,” Amy told her captive audience, rubbing her hands together like a child waiting to open her Christmas presents. “Tomorrow we’ll start the cooking and baking. First the treats and then the pierogi and cabbage rolls.”

Dylan felt tired, and they weren’t even elbow-deep in cookie dough yet. Christmas always had been a trying experience for Dylan and his brothers. Their mother had made each celebration bigger, better and brighter than the last as she tried to make up for her husband’s absence in the boys’ lives. Dylan knew from experience that nothing could make up for that.

Now his mother wanted to share the humiliating, sideshow event with the new in-laws. She acted as if the two families had been joined in marriage, instead of just his older brother and Jenna’s baby sister. If only he could have found another optometry conference to attend, he could have avoided this year’s festivities and the holiday guests with a legitimate-sounding excuse.

When his mother started describing the thirty or so goodie platters they would make for church friends and neighbors, Dylan cleared his throat.

“You know, Mom, maybe we should consider cutting back on the baking this year. Maybe make fewer platters. Or just give gifts from your bakery.”

“Give gifts from the shop?”

From her incredulous tone, he would have thought he’d just suggested giving day-old bread from the supermarket as gifts rather than the scrumptious, designer cakes his mother created at her bakery, Amy’s Elite Treats.

“And why would we cut back, anyway?” She waved away his suggestion with a brush of her fingers through the air. “We have more hands in the kitchen this year.”

That’s the point, he wanted to say. Fewer recipients would mean less baking and less time spent with all those extra hands. “Just a thought.”

His mother rolled her eyes, turning back to the group. “Then Monday night we have tickets to the see The Nutcracker. Third row.” She shot her arm into the air as if she’d just won a medal. “And then we’ll take a car tour to see the Festival of Lights.”

Dylan’s frustration built with each event his mother listed. Why couldn’t she see that all this busyness had nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas? And of all the women in this world, why had Matthew chosen to marry a Scott sister? Okay, he would concede that point. Haley and Matthew were too perfect together for God not to have planned that one.

But if Matthew had married someone else, they could have been enduring these excessive Christmas festivities with another family. Instead of this one. Now he would have to spend a miserable holiday trying to avoid the one person who’d always been able to send his stable life crumbling into invisible fault line: Jenna. Always Jenna.

She represented his life’s biggest disappointment—the person he’d always loved who’d always been out of reach. She’d made him question everything he knew to be true: his values and even his faith. How could he not when he’d always been so certain that God intended them to be together? Even now, after working as hard to forget her as he had to finish his degree, he could no more prevent his gaze from shifting her way than he could have given time a lunch break.

At twenty-six, she looked impossibly young with all that caramel-colored hair wrangled into a long ponytail. The only difference between the way she’d worn it in junior high and the style now was the longer bangs off to one side. Her face was thinner now, too, but that only magnified the impact of the high cheekbones and generous lips that were Scott family traits. She was painfully, perfectly beautiful.

Stop. He looked from side to side to be certain he hadn’t said that aloud. After four years he should have been unaffected by those eyes, the color of iced tea, and that skin, like a porcelain doll.

He hated that she still had such an effect on him. Why, around her, had he always been like a kid with a milk allergy who couldn’t resist a scoop of ice cream? Would he ever be able to look at her and feel innocuous familiarity and nothing more? Because the answer to that question could incriminate him, Dylan was grateful to Jenna for the night she’d pressed his hand regarding their friendship.

It wasn’t the first time Jenna had behaved selfishly—far from it—but it was different from the rest. After he’d spent months scraping up the courage to ask her on a date, he’d finally asked and she’d accepted. Then, as he was leaving for his five-hour trip to the Michigan State campus to meet her, she’d called to reschedule their “buddies’ weekend” because some rugby player had asked her to a movie.

In that moment, when the proverbial straw broke the camel’s back, he’d told her he was finished with her. He wouldn’t be her friend anymore. If not for that night, he might still be there, serving as her longsuffering best friend and always wishing for more.

“Dylan, are you listening?”

He shifted, glancing up to see his mother watching him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Sure, Mom.” At least he was now.

“After church Sunday, we can get started on the Christmas-ornament project.” Amy turned to explain to the Scotts. “We do one every year. We need to find a new service project, too.”

She paused finally, tapping her head with her index finger as though wondering if she’d forgotten anything. “Oh. Right. Rehearsal for Christmas Eve services. It’s our tradition to sing together in the choir, and I’m sure Matthew could use the extra voices.”

Matthew appeared apologetic as he turned to his wife’s sisters. “I can always use every available voice.” He took his new bride’s hand. “I’ve already recruited one Scott sister for the choir.”

“As if I had a choice,” Haley offered with a wink.

“Now for the events on Christmas Day,” his mother began again.

Amy Warren must not have heard Logan’s sigh because she prattled on, describing the elaborate Christmas dinner they would share. Dylan tuned out again, his attention pulled by something as strong as gravity toward the face he had no business looking at, the person who was toxic to his best interests.

Jenna caught his gaze this time, pink lips lifting in a tentative grin. Ignoring the jolt he would probably always feel when she smiled at him, he turned away from her and focused on his mother again. Jenna wanted things between them to be the same as they’d always been. She’d made that clear enough in a few letters and during a stilted conversation at the wedding. But their relationship could never be the same.

They were different people. At least he was. He was an adult now, a respected member of the Markston community, not the everyman she’d found so easy to overlook. And this new Dylan Warren refused to allow Jenna Scott to get under his skin again.

Dylan planned to keep his distance from her during this visit just as he had for the past four years, just as he had at the wedding. Although he still felt guilty for using his graduate studies as an excuse to avoid going to Michigan for her father’s funeral nearly two years before, he couldn’t think about that now, not when he needed to focus on giving her a wide berth during her visit. If he could avoid caving in to her attempts to get close to him for the next two weeks, maybe he could finally exorcise her from his heart for good and get on with his life.

His plan in place, Dylan sneaked another look at Jenna to test his resolve. Immediately he realized his mistake. As she listened to his mother’s speech, Jenna had tilted her head to the side, revealing a long expanse of her elegant neck above the collar of her uniform. The impulse to brush her skin there was so strong that Dylan had to fist his hands and turn away to shake it. He was in trouble, and he knew it. If he wanted to have any hope of maintaining his distance from Jenna Warren this Christmas season, he needed to start praying for strength right now and keep right on doing it through the New Year.

Chapter Two

Dylan slipped out of his muddy hiking boots and gave his head a hard shake, sending droplets of water from his hair flying every which way. Dripping less than he had before, he stepped through his mother’s front door.

“I’d like to see a Currier & Ives painting of that precious holiday scene,” he groused.

“I heard that, Dylan Thomas.” His mother came down the hallway and handed him a towel.

“Sorry, Mom.” He toweled off his hair.

He didn’t know how his mother could still call her twenty-six-year-old son by both his names when he annoyed her, any more than he could understand how she was still in a festive mood after such a disastrous tree-cutting outing. It had begun to sprinkle the moment they’d pulled up at the tree farm, and by the time they’d left with that gigantic, soggy Scotch pine, Dylan had been looking around for animals lined up two by two.

Matthew opened the storm door and stuck his head inside, raindrops running down the lenses of his glasses. “Hey, little brother, we could use a hand out here. We’re setting up the tree in the garage so it can dry out.”

Dropping the towel on the tile, Dylan retrieved his boots and followed his brother. So much for his much-needed break from being around Jenna.

“Any chance Mom’s decided to cut festivities short tonight?” Matthew asked over his shoulder.

“Are you kidding? She and your mother-in-law already have the hot chocolate simmering on the stove, and I could hear their bad duet of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ as soon as I walked in the house.”

“I figured we wouldn’t get out of it,” Matthew said. “Never let it be said that a little rain could keep our mom from her holiday celebration.”

“At least you aren’t the newest matchmaking target.”

Matthew laughed the laugh of someone who’d been there. “Stay strong, brother.”

As they stepped into the garage, Caroline and Jenna were holding the tree upright while Logan crouched below, twisting the braces of the tree stand into its trunk.

“Could you two hold that thing straight?” Logan called up from the bottom.

“Come on, Nature Boy, don’t you know how to deal with trees once they’re cut down?” Caroline chided.

“I can with some proper help. Who cut this trunk, anyway? It’s crooked.”

Jenna caught Dylan’s eye and laughed, and even he couldn’t resist smiling at that. Logan, the resident park ranger among them, had cut the tree himself. They rested it on its side so Logan could even up the trunk and remove the lowest branches. Then, with several hands and a lot of grumbling, they finally secured the tree in its stand with only a slight lean.

Their work finished, they filed into the house, leaving their boots and soaked coats near the door.

“Everyone in here,” Trina told them, ushering them into the family room, where Amy sat on the edge of the brick hearth.

Although they’d had only minutes to put the party together, the mothers had risen to the occasion. Now orange and yellow flames danced in the gas fireplace, strains of recorded Christmas carols filtered from the stereo speakers, and a spread of finger sandwiches and snacks rested on the side table. And because no Warren-Scott gathering would be complete without them, two of his mother’s famous cakes were arranged on cake stands.

They were preparing to say grace when the doorbell rang, and Matthew hurried to let Reverend Leyton Boggs and his wife inside. They conferred in hushed voices as they hung up their coats and then made their way into the family room, their faces stoic.

“Is everything all right, Reverend?” Amy Warren asked.

The minister smiled in that comforting way he’d used in every memorial service Dylan had ever attended. Something was wrong.

“Late this afternoon, there was a fire downtown that destroyed a young family’s home,” Reverend Boggs began. “Brad and Kelly Denton were already struggling since Brad was laid off from his job, and their car wasn’t running, so this fire came at a particularly tough time. The home was rented, and they had no insurance.”

“How awful for them,” Jenna said. “Do they have children?”

Lila Boggs nodded. “Two boys. Seven-year-old twins named Connor and Ryan. But praise God, they all got out safely.”

“Yes, praise Him for that.” The minister told how the Dentons had been trying to provide at least a simple Christmas for their sons, only to have their few gifts go up in flames along with the rest of their possessions.

Empathetic murmurs filled the room as the minister told more of the specifics. But Dylan barely heard the details. The story made him so uncomfortable that he found it hard to sit still. A family already limping along through life now had the burden and indignity of being homeless at Christmas. He’d heard dozens of those tragic holiday stories before, but this one touched him in a special way.

It had to be the mention of those two little boys that spoke to him. His heart ached as he imagined the confusion they had to feel after today’s events, after the security blankets of home and safety had been ripped from them. He’d known a day like that once himself: the day his father left. At twelve years old, he’d been older than these boys, but he remembered how powerless and small he’d felt. How frightened he’d been that his world would never the right again. Now he grieved for these children, who’d lost their childhood just as he had.

“I spoke with the Dentons by phone, and then Lila and I drove them to the Markston Inn for the night. I paid for their night’s stay with church emergency-relief funds,” Reverend Boggs was saying when Dylan tuned back in to the conversation.

“But they’re going to need more than temporary help. We’ve offered on behalf of the church to adopt this family through the holidays, so I’ll be seeking support from church members like yourselves…” He let his words trail away as he waited for someone to step up to the challenge.

“Of course, we’ll help,” Dylan’s mother answered. “We’ve been looking for a Christian service project, so we’ll make a donation.”

“That’s a great idea,” Logan said, and the others chimed in their agreement.

“I knew I could count on the Warrens and, of course, the Scotts.” The minister smiled. “I’m sure this young family will appreciate whatever you can give.”

Neither the accolades nor his mom’s best chocolate walnut torte sat well with Dylan tonight. He felt as if they were all taking the easy way out—himself included. What they were willing to offer just didn’t feel like enough.

Reverend Boggs glanced at the wall clock. “Some Indianapolis news vans were at the scene of the fire, so the story should make the ten-o’clock news.”

“Hey, somebody turn it on,” Logan called out.

Dylan stretched toward the sofa table and retrieved the remote, flicking on the flat-screen television in the corner.

“The holidays will be a little less bright for a young Markston family who narrowly escaped tragedy today when a blaze broke out in their northside rental home,” said a reporter whose bright red coat appeared too festive for the somber news.

As the reporter continued her story, the camera panned first to the smoldering structure and then to the couple and their sons, huddled together in the chilly rain with blankets draped over their shoulders.

No longer hungry, Dylan set his plate aside. The story had been stirring enough, but to put faces to the tragedy brought the sad situation right into the family room. He’d pictured those children in his mind, but on the screen they appeared smaller than he’d imagined. Defenseless. Their bright eyes peeked out from beneath their parents’ arms as they watched the firefighters wage a losing battle with the blaze.

Stark reality was clear on Brad and Kelly Denton’s faces. Dylan remembered that his mother wore an expression like that during the early days after his father left. Matthew had looked that same way after his first wife had deserted him and Lizzie. The Dentons might have escaped with their lives, but the young couple, like his mother and his brother, had been unable to protect their children from life’s unfortunate truths.

In the next shot the reporter was standing with the family, all of them under the shelter of two large umbrellas. Brad Denton squeezed the boy next to him and said, “We feel blessed that we all got out safely. As long as we’re together, we’ll figure out the rest.”

Dylan could only stare at the screen. He’d been feeling sorry for himself all night when people like the Dentons, who had real problems and every right to their own pity party, were counting their blessings. He’d forgotten to count his.

Around him the room had fallen silent as the news broadcast moved to commercial break.

“It’s a sad story,” Reverend Boggs began again as Dylan shut off the television. “Still, I feel God has a blessing planned here. I’m sorry to run, but I need to call some of the other church members.”

“It won’t be necessary to make any more calls, Reverend.” Dylan waited as the others turned their surprised expressions his way. He couldn’t blame them—he wasn’t usually the idea man in this crowd, but he had to be this time. No one else was stepping forward, and he couldn’t turn his back on those little boys.

“Look at all of us.” He held his hands wide to indicate the size of the group. “Sure, we can write a check, but I think we can do a lot more.” Out of the corner of his eye, Dylan could see Jenna watching him, a strange expression on her face. He pressed on. “Between our two families, we should volunteer to adopt the Dentons ourselves.”

Everyone spoke up at once—that is, everyone except Jenna. She was too busy staring at Dylan, who didn’t sound at all like the Dylan she’d once called her best friend. Who was this take-charge guy? Her Dylan would have been more than happy to let other people make plans and then join in for the ride.

That he’d spoken aloud the exact idea she’d been bouncing around in her head surprised her even more. How could they not do more for that poor family? Her worries about reconnecting with Dylan seemed small when compared to those of these young parents who had no place to live and no way to feed and clothe their children. It wasn’t right for her to warm herself by the fire while this family had been huddled under blankets, trying to shield their children from the cold.

“He’s right,” Matthew said, his voice rising above the rest. “We have so much. We don’t need anything for Christmas. The Dentons will need everything.”

“That’s a great idea,” Haley chimed in.

“We have to help them,” Jenna told them. Her throat clogged with emotion as she tried to put herself in the shoes of those young parents. She could only imagine the hopelessness they felt.

Mrs. Warren stood up, shaking her head. “I don’t know. That’s a big project you’re taking on, Dylan. We can help, but it might be better if we spread the load among various church members.” She frowned as if realizing more pitfalls. “And we would have to cancel some of our holiday plans—”

“Not cancel, Mom,” Dylan said, standing beside her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Just tweak. Remember, you wanted us to spend quality time with the Scotts during the holidays, and what could be better than spending that time helping others?”

“We wanted to share our Christmas traditions, too.” Mrs. Warren’s face fell in disappointment.

“And we will,” Dylan assured her. “Some of them.”

“We already have,” Logan said. “We found the tree.”

Mrs. Warren shrugged as she sat on the hearth. “If you’re sure we can handle that much work…”

“Of course we can.” Dylan nodded as if to emphasize his words. His mother’s reticence appeared to surprise him. Jenna, too, found the woman’s reaction strange. Mrs. Warren was one of the most kind-hearted people she knew, so Jenna assumed something else was bothering her.

“What did you have in mind?” Matthew asked after a long pause.

“We could put some of the money and effort we would have used for Mom’s great list of activities toward making Christmas bright for someone else.”

Although Dylan glanced his mother’s way, the first response came from someone smaller.

“Do we have to give away our Christmas tree?” Lizzie asked, her eyes sad.

“Of course not, silly.” Dylan crossed the room and scooped up his niece. “But don’t you think that other family should have a nice Christmas, too?”

When she nodded, he tugged on one of her braids and lowered her to the floor. Jenna couldn’t help smiling at the sweet gesture. Dylan really seemed to adore Lizzie. The two of them had been so inseparable at the wedding that Jenna had been ashamed to be jealous of a child.

He turned to the minister. “Now, Reverend, you and Mrs. Boggs have met the Dentons. Can you give us an idea of what their needs are?”

“You’ll need to start with the basics. Food, clothing and shelter. Lila and I are planning to meet with the family for breakfast tomorrow morning to find out the specifics. We wanted them to rest tonight.”

Dylan nodded. “Would you mind if a few of us joined you so you could introduce us?”

“That might be best,” Lila answered for her husband.

“You should go, Dylan.” Matthew gestured toward him from the sofa. “This was your idea.”

Dylan appeared surprised by his older brother’s suggestion, but he nodded. He was probably as used to Matthew assuming plans in his family as Jenna was with Caroline taking over organizational duties in theirs.

“I would like to go.”

He smiled that boyish Dylan smile that Jenna had missed while he’d been dodging her efforts to talk to him all evening. He hadn’t been mean exactly, unless treating her as if she was invisible counted as mean. She marveled at his compassion for the Dentons. She could only hope that one day he would send some of that kindness her way and finally forgive her.

Jenna realized that she’d never thought to appreciate Dylan for the gift he was. She wished he would give her the chance to tell him how sorry she was for that and to show him she wasn’t the same selfish person he used to know. God had made sure of that change.

“Who else would like to join us for breakfast?” Reverend Boggs asked as he took a seat next to his wife.

Jenna’s mother spoke up. “Caroline should go.”

Caroline was already shaking her head when Matthew offered a suggestion.

“Jenna should go. She and Dylan are buddies, and they haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Matthew probably thought he was helping his brother out by offering him an escape from their mothers’ matchmaking efforts, but Dylan looked like a man stuck between two unacceptable choices and hoping for a third.

Jenna jumped in before he found one. “That sounds great. I’d love to have the chance to meet the Dentons.”

She knew better than to look at Dylan because his gaze wouldn’t be tossing daisies at her. Dylan probably thought she’d only accepted Matthew’s suggestion to get the chance to spend time with him, but it was more than that. The Denton family’s story had touched her, too, and she wanted to reach out to them.

“That’s fine,” Dylan said finally, but he didn’t look at her. Instead, he grabbed a legal pad out of the drawer in his mother’s roll-top desk.

“We’ll know more tomorrow, but we can divide up the general areas now. Housing, furniture, clothing and food.” He wrote as he spoke. “If we split into teams, we’ll be able to accomplish more.”

“They should be teams of two, one from each family,” Jenna said the moment the idea popped into her head. “I’ll work with Dylan.”

“Wait.” Amy exchanged a glance with Trina before she turned back to Dylan. “I thought it might be nice if you worked with—”

Caroline stood to interrupt. “I’d like to get the chance to spend time with my new brother-in-law.” She turned to Matthew. “Okay with you?”

“Fine with me.”

“I’ll work with Jenna, then.”

Although Dylan’s tone might have been more enthusiastic if he’d just volunteered to clean Porta-Johns, Jenna was pleased to have won the point. He would probably raise eyebrows if he refused to work with her.

Dylan teamed up the remaining family members, pairing his mother with Jenna’s mother, and Logan with Haley. Because the youngest Warren brother and the youngest Scott sister had been like oil and water together ever since they were in diapers, he assigned Lizzie to work with them to keep the peace. That complete, he started dividing the work.

“I had planned to deal with food, but since I’m working with the premier shopper—” Dylan paused, glancing Jenna’s way “—we’ll take clothing, toiletries and Christmas gifts.”

The minister stood and crossed the room to collect his coat. “Well, Dylan, it looks as if you have this under control. I’ll have to remember your organizational skills the next time we need a new committee leader at church.”

Jenna agreed with the minister’s praise and would have said so, but the look Dylan sent her way made her keep her opinion to herself. Her plan of working on a team with him didn’t seem like such a great idea, after all. Did she really think forcing him to be with her would help her to restore their friendship?

No, she’d gone about this the wrong way. Instead of approaching him slowly and letting him remember why they once were close, she’d forced her way into his space, reminding him of how selfish she’d always been. She’d wanted to prove to him she was different, and all she’d done was show him more of the same.

What was she supposed to do now? Once again, she’d messed things up with Dylan, but she would just have to work within the uncomfortable situation she’d created. She’d committed to helping the Dentons, and she intended to follow through with her commitment. Maybe if Dylan saw that, he would eventually be able to forgive her, after all.

Chapter Three

Brad Denton looked as uncomfortable as a cowboy in a tuxedo as he took a seat next to his wife at Home Cooking Café the next morning. Well, Dylan could relate to his discomfort. As if it wasn’t awkward enough meeting the Dentons for the first time, Jenna was sitting next to him. He wished he could ignore her, but the coconut scent of her shampoo invaded his senses every time she turned her head, and the chime of her laughter filtered into his ears. If only his senses hadn’t picked today to become sharp enough to detect a noise in the next room or hear a butterfly fluttering its wings.

He’d counted on her being a no-show this morning—like all the other times—but that hadn’t worked out for him, either. Why she’d picked this morning to come through on one of her commitments, he wasn’t sure. She wasn’t doing anything halfway, either. They’d barely made it to their seats, and she was already playing hostess, chatting with Lila Boggs and Kelly Denton.

“Do you think we should send out a search party for the boys?” Reverend Boggs asked as he opened his menu.

Brad glanced over his shoulder toward the restroom where Connor and Ryan had hurried before the hostess could seat them. He spoke conspiratorially to Dylan. “Two more minutes and we’re going in.”

The men’s room door opened then, and the boys rushed out, saving the adults from that covert mission. The boys hurried across the room, looking like matching wind-up toys, not technically running—their mother had warned them not to—but close to it.

As the twins scrambled into the two remaining seats at the long table, mischievous grins on their faces, Dylan’s thoughts cleared. He remembered why they were all working together in the first place: for the sake of these little boys. He’d only just met them, and already they inspired a fierce protectiveness in him.

Dylan couldn’t get over the fact that Connor and Ryan were laughing and playing as if they’d already forgotten about yesterday’s fire and were ready for their next adventure. Children were definitely resilient. He knew from experience. But he also knew that they scarred just as deeply as anyone else did.

Those boys and their parents deserved the best his family and the Scotts could offer, and nothing—not even Jenna—should distract him from giving it.

“I sure hope after all that time in there that you two washed your hands,” Kelly said to her sons.

“We did, Mommy.” Only one of them answered, but they both held up their hands.

The waitress took their order, and soon the twins were wolfing down their waffles as if they hadn’t eaten in months. Not true, of course, since their parents had already mentioned the pizza they’d eaten in their hotel room late last night.

“Boys, you need to slow down. This isn’t a race,” Kelly admonished them as she set her fork aside.

Dylan shook his head. “Obviously you weren’t a boy who grew up with brothers. In my house, everything was a race or a contest.”

“I can vouch for that,” Jenna told them. “The Warren brothers competed over who could spit the farthest or cross his eyes the longest, even who had the most ear wax.”

Because Dylan couldn’t help smiling at the shared memory, he was glad she wasn’t looking his way. But she would know about those things. She’d been there for many of those contests and other incidents. He remembered clearly just how important it was to him to win when Jenna was around.

“You really do understand our boys, then,” Brad said.

“It sounds as if you’ve known each other a long time.” Kelly looked back and forth between them, searching for a connection.

“Since birth…or a little before,” Jenna said, smiling.

“Our mothers are best friends, so they stuck us kids together a lot.”

He hadn’t intended the comment to sound so harsh, but he failed, and an awkward silence settled over the table. He suddenly felt bad—he didn’t want to hurt Jenna. He just didn’t want to get pulled back into a friendship that had caused him so much pain. But being around her brought back so many memories, most filled with laughter rather than sadness. It confused and frustrated him that though he knew he should steer clear of her for his own good, part of him was willing to be drawn in again. It didn’t do any good for him to wish he could have found an excuse not to work on a team with Jenna. He simply had to work with the situation as it was.

“Anyway…I think we’ve addressed all the details.” Dylan glanced down at the list of tasks in front of him and then to the list of clothing and shoe sizes next to Jenna’s coffee cup. “Can any of you think of anything we haven’t covered?”

“Will Santa miss us this year because he doesn’t know we’re at a hotel, instead of our old, burned-up house?” Ryan asked, suddenly serious.

Dylan swallowed, his heart aching for the child’s distress. The twins’ concerns might not have been as obvious as those of their parents, but they were there.

The adults glanced at one another across the table. The boys wouldn’t fully understand how much they’d lost in the fire for a while—the memories and surety that they would always be safe. The grown-ups already knew.

Connor tilted his head to the side. “Do you think Santa will get it if we leave a note for him at our old house to tell him where we are now?”

“As long as we put a cookie and some milk with it.” Excitement replaced the worried look on Ryan’s face.

“Hey, those are clever ideas, boys.” Kelly managed a reassuring smile for her sons.

The waitress stopped by the table to leave the check, and Dylan nabbed it before anyone could look at it. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and set his credit card with the bill.

Brad glanced at the credit card that represented a free breakfast, and he gripped his hands together. “I don’t know if all this is the best idea. Your church has already done so much with the hotel room and all.”

Kelly leaned her cheek against her husband’s shoulder. All through breakfast, the two of them had been holding hands. “You’ll have to forgive my husband. It’s hard for him to accept help. We’ve always made our own way before, and…” As her voice broke, she glanced away, dabbing her eyes with her napkin.

“Pride. It’s a tough thing.” Brad tried to laugh, but his voice was thick with emotion. “With me out of work and now…this, we’re not in a position to be able to turn down help, for the boys at least. So thank you for everything.”

“Okay, then,” Dylan said. “First we’ll—”

Brad rushed on as if Dylan hadn’t spoken. “But as soon as we’re able, we’ll repay every cent.”

Reverend Boggs held his hands wide. “Now, Brad, there’s no need to worry about that right now. These two families are just trying to do as our Lord directed to feed and clothe those who need it. You would do the same if the situation were reversed. Remember in Matthew 25:40, Jesus said, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’”

“It’s just hard.” Brad shrugged, not quite on board.

In a surprising move, Jenna reached over and squeezed Brad’s hand. “Think of it as only temporary.” Her smile was warm enough to convince even the most determined person to change his mind. “When you’re back on your feet, you can help out somebody else who’s going through a tough time. That way the help keeps moving.”

When Jenna released his hand, Brad sat straighter in his seat. “Okay. We’ll do that.”

It was all Dylan could do not to stare at her with his mouth gaping open. He’d never seen her like this before, so generous and selfless, so focused on someone else’s need. She was…different.

Don’t go there. You can’t afford to. Not again.

“That’s great.” Jenna pushed back from the table and stood. “Now why don’t you all get back to the hotel? You probably could use a relaxing day after yesterday. We’ll take care of some of these details and have you resettled in no time.”

Reacting to her cue, Dylan came to his feet. The others around him stood, as well.

“In no time,” he repeated, stepping over to shake hands with Brad.

Jenna was less formal, hugging Kelly first and then bending to offer each of the boys a squeeze. They only grimaced a little.

As she moved on to hug Brad and the minister and his wife, Dylan slanted a perplexed look her way.

He couldn’t help but think about how she’d tried to make it easier for the Denton family to accept assistance, seeming to care as much about their feelings as their physical needs. The Jenna he remembered wouldn’t have thought to reach out to anyone else. She’d always been too preoccupied as the epicenter of her own universe. But was it possible that she had changed.

Again, he forced himself not to read too much into her efforts. She was probably just hurrying the process along so they could finish their charity project and get on with their Christmas activities.

Preoccupied, he didn’t see it coming, but Kelly caught up with him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug.

“God bless you for your kindness.” Kelly squeezed again and then released him. “Let us know what we can do. We’re not afraid of work.”

“We definitely will…after you relax today.”

Dylan had to admit that Jenna’s suggestion was a good one. And he preferred not to have the family present for some of the delicate discussions that might have to take place with additional donors.

He stole another glance at Jenna, who was reassuring the boys about Santa, and his breath caught. Today would be tough. He grimaced. If he was having this much trouble ignoring her with a crowd around them, he couldn’t imagine how hard it would be when the two of them were alone together. Maybe if they kept busy the whole time, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could even send her off shopping for clothes while he took on another part of the project. Independent subcommittees, so to speak. Yes, staying busy and dividing duties, that would help. No time to look into her beautiful eyes. No time for her to bring up the day that forced him to put her out of his life. No time for him to change his mind.

Jenna didn’t have to look Dylan’s way to know he was watching her, instead of the Dentons, as they crossed the parking lot to return to their hotel. The way he’d been studying her the past twenty minutes, she wanted to tell him to turn up the microscope’s magnification and take a good look.

She hated guessing that shock was the reason for his sudden curiosity. Was he really so surprised that she’d been kind to the Dentons? Someone would have to be missing a heart not to want to reach out to that great couple and those sweet little boys. Did he believe she was that type of person? Sure, she’d been a little narcissistic in the past, but she couldn’t have been that bad. At least she hoped not. And even if she had been, she was different now.

He might not realize it, but she wasn’t the only one who’d changed, and from what she’d seen so far, some of his changes hadn’t been for the better. He might be this new assertive-doctor type, but where were his sweetness and vulnerability? The qualities that made him Dylan? He was barely recognizable under all of that authoritarian veneer.

Frustration welled up inside her. Dylan would never give her a chance to restore their friendship. She didn’t know why she’d ever thought he would. Four years had passed. If he’d wanted to reconnect with her, he would have done it by now, and if she’d expected to have the chance to make amends, she should have tried before now.

She didn’t want to believe it was too late. Hadn’t her mother always told her it was never too late to do the right thing? It had to be the right thing for her to at least apologize for hurting him, whether he forgave her or not. And even if he didn’t believe she was the kind of person to think of others, she intended to help the Dentons have the merriest Christmas possible. She had too many blessings in her life not to share them with others.

She would work with Dylan, even if he wasn’t happy about working with her. She would pray through the process that they would somehow reconnect. He wasn’t the same boy she remembered any more than she was the same girl, but Jenna sensed that buried deep inside him—maybe intentionally hidden from her—was the person she’d once been closer to than anyone else. With God’s help, she was determined to find him.

“This is one thing you could have done without me.”

At this newest round of Dylan’s grousing, Jenna looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. “And have you miss all this?”

She gestured toward the rows of sweaters in the discount store’s women’s department. He was bored, but if she had agreed to his suggestion that they divide the list of stores and meet up at the end of the day, she wouldn’t have had the chance to see him all afternoon. So much for not forcing him to work with her. She sighed. This was getting more complicated by the minute.

“Have some mercy, will you?”

Dylan leaned his elbows on the hand grip of the shopping cart and rubbed his eyes, yawning. They’d already found several outfits and coats for Brad and the boys at the charity clothes closets and resale shops she’d marched him through for hours, but they were purchasing a few clothes for Kelly now. Jenna was in her element, and she wanted her purchases to be just right.

“Okay. I’ll be finished here in a minute.” She made her final selections and dropped them in the cart. “How does someone so impatient survive a job where you stare at people’s eyeballs all day?” she teased.

She would have taken the strange sound he made as a laugh if he’d chuckled at any of her other jokes today.

“Believe me, even just asking, ‘Better or worse?’ and ‘Which is clearer, A or B?’ is more interesting than shopping for women’s clothes.”

He did chuckle that time—at least something had brightened his spirits. He checked his watch again.

“You see,” he said, “I was right. At least in this one store we could have gotten more done, faster, if we’d separated and met up at the cash register later.”

Jenna frowned as she gathered several items in her arms. “We also would have gotten half as many things for twice as much if we’d done that. Haven’t you ever heard of comparison shopping? You can’t just march up to the undershirt display and pick the brand with the best commercials. You have to look at price. We only have so much money, and we want to get as much as possible.”

“But I could have handled toiletries.”

“Probably.”

“Probably? How do you think I earned my professional degree? Bid on it on an Internet auction site?”

When she whirled to look at him, Dylan had his arms crossed. Even with his chin tilted up that way, he looked…oddly appealing.

“No. Not the Internet. But can you tell me what kind of shampoo wouldn’t sting a kid’s eyes or would give long hair like Kelly’s a nice shine?”

At first he frowned, but finally he raised his hands in defeat. “Fine. You win.”

With this part of their shopping complete, Dylan wheeled the cart out of the women’s department and hurried with apparent relief toward Health and Beauty. Jenna had to jog to keep up with his longer stride.

“It wasn’t that much of a defeat, was it?” she asked when he finally slowed down in the toothpaste aisle. “What would you know about kids’ or women’s shampoo? Besides, you always hated to shop. You hated malls, too. Your mom used to bring clothes home for you to try on. She had to return the ones that didn’t fit.”

“Guilty.” He picked up the most expensive tube of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste, but when she lifted her brow, he set it back on the shelf and gestured for her to select one. “But in my defense, malls are just consumer prisons where they pipe in music with subliminal shopping messages and where the lights are so bright they convince you that whatever you’re trying on looks good on you.”

Jenna picked up a tube of toothpaste next to a sale sign and moved on to the toothbrush display. “Next you’re going to tell me about conspiracy theories and grassy knolls.”

“A little before my time, don’t you think?”

He had smiled at her comment. Finally. A success. She thought back to all the times he’d regaled her with stories from documentaries about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy or the sinking of the Titanic, realizing now that she’d only half listened. A better friend would have listened more closely as he spoke about his interests. Note to self, she thought.

Jenna selected two adult toothbrushes on a two-for-one deal and picked two junior-size brushes for the boys. “I still don’t understand why you assigned us to the clothes committee when you hate clothes shopping.”

Dylan pulled one of the toothbrushes from her hand and tapped her on the head with it. “Are you kidding? How could I not pick the shopping committee when I was working with the crowned queen of shopping? That would have been a waste of your talents.”

Jenna laughed, and for a second, it seemed like old times between them as he grinned at her. She smiled in return, and they just stood there for a moment until Dylan seemed to catch himself. He quickly turned away.

Jenna grabbed a container of dental floss and crossed it off on the list before moving on to the razors and shaving cream.

“I bow to your expertise here.” She waved toward the merchandise. “Just watch your prices.”

“At least I’m good for something here.” He pulled shaving cream, a reasonably priced razor and a pack of replacement blades off the shelf, even grabbing a set of disposable razors for Kelly.

“Do these meet your specifications?”

With all the items checked off on this first list, they went through the checkout line and headed to the car. If the others had accomplished as much as she and Dylan had, they were well on their way to a successful project.

“Whew,” Dylan said as he pulled on his seat belt. “Now that was an ordeal.”

Jenna didn’t say anything for a moment. He might think it had been challenging shopping with her, but if he thought that tomorrow she would agree to working separately on different portions of the project, then he had another think coming. They were making progress. She could feel it. And she wasn’t going to give up.

“You know we’re not done, right?” she asked.

Dylan looked at her with what she hoped was mock dread.

“After we meet with the boys tomorrow to help them write their Santa’s lists, we’re headed to the mall for Christmas shopping. You better rest up if you thought today was tough.”

Dylan groaned and leaned his head on the steering wheel. She reached over, laughing, and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. He didn’t even stiffen at her touch.

Yes, they’d definitely made progress.

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