# His Mistletoe Family

Ruth Herne Logan

A Family For The Holidays When two orphaned boys and their aunt arrive for Thanksgiving supper at church, retired army colonel Brett Stanton feels his heart tugged. Despite having her hands full, young businesswoman Haley Jennings handles her nephews with a smile. Still, Brett can’t get too close to the needy trio.He lost his son and brother to the uniform, and isn’t about to set himself up for loss again. Soon sweet Haley and the boys remind him of old dreams—and teach him that new dreams provide the greatest hope for a perfect family Christmas.Men of Allegany County: In small-town New York, three bachelors find their soul mates

A Family For The Holidays

When two orphaned boys and their aunt arrive for Thanksgiving supper at church, retired army colonel Brett Stanton feels his heart tugged. Despite having her hands full, young businesswoman Haley Jennings handles her nephews with a smile. Still, Brett can’t get too close to the needy trio. He lost his son and brother to the uniform, and isn’t about to set himself up for loss again. Soon sweet Haley and the boys remind him of old dreams—and teach him that new dreams provide the greatest hope for a perfect family Christmas.

This man had a take-charge attitude that calmed Haley without a word being spoken.

Colonel Brett Stanton squatted to the boys’ level, but didn’t invade their space. His sensitivity loosened their grip on Haley’s hands, as if they were willing to meet the big guy halfway. A neat trick, all told.

“You hungry, boys?”

“Yes.” Todd nodded, emphatic.

“Starving.” Tyler sent a bullish look Haley’s way. “She drove all day.”

The man appeared to weigh Tyler’s words. “Traveling on a holiday can be tough.” Deep hazel eyes held her attention for short seconds but long enough to make her heart trip faster. Beat harder. “Does she have a name?”

“Aunt Haley.” Tyler said the words with more than a little distrust.

“She’s pwetty.” Todd leaned a little closer to the man now, too, following his brother’s lead. “And I like her yellow hair.”

“It’s drop-dead gorgeous,” the man agreed easily. He tossed that crooked smile up to Haley, winked at her and reached for the boys’ hands. “You guys ready to have Thanksgiving dinner with us?”

RUTH LOGAN HERNE

Born into poverty, Ruth puts great stock in one of her favorite Ben Franklinisms: “Having been poor is no shame. Being ashamed of it is.” With God-given appreciation for the amazing opportunities abounding in our land, Ruth finds simple gifts in the everyday blessings of smudge-faced small children, bright flowers, freshly baked goods, good friends, family, puppies and higher education. She believes a good woman should never fear dirt, snakes or spiders, all of which like to infest her aged farmhouse, necessitating a good pair of tongs for extracting the snakes, a flat-bottomed shoe for the spiders, and for the dirt...

Simply put, she’s learned that some things aren’t worth fretting about! If you laugh in the face of dust and love to talk about God, men, romance, great shoes and wonderful food, feel free to contact Ruth through her website at www.ruthloganherne.com.

## His Mistletoe Family. Ruth Logan Herne


www.millsandboon.co.uk

## MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

These things I have spoken unto you,

that in me ye might have peace.

In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of

good cheer; I have overcome the world.

—John 16:33

This book is dedicated to LuAnn and Charlie Koch, dear friends who shared so much with so many.

God certainly blessed me when he put you guys

in my life over thirty years ago. Your love for God and Allegany County fed mine.

And to Melissa Endlich,

whose ongoing advice, humor and guidance

blesses each and every book I write, even though the image of a non-coffee-drinking NYC editor

just seems wrong. So wrong!

Acknowledgments

First to LuAnn and Charlie for the stories they shared. To Dana Guinnip of Angelica, New York,

for his advice on firefighting, chicken and biscuits and where to stage an accident scene.

To The Seekers (www.seekerville.blogspot.com) for their constant support and encouragement. You guys keep me laughing and grounded. To Tina and Mary for road-tripping with me when so few dare! To Deb Giusti for always answering my military questions and never acting tired. To Homer Marple for establishing the Craft and Antique Co-op. His vision inspired “Bennington Station.” To Vince, who is never afraid to challenge me, and I love a good challenge. To Beth and Mandy for their continued hands-on help with little things that make me look way smoother than I am. And my family, who continue to believe that following your dream is the best way to go. I couldn’t agree more. Thank you for the daily encouragement, the hugs, the grins and the book sales. You guys mean the world to me.

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

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Despair should never be allowed to rule Thanksgiving Day.

Haley Jennings eyed the two camouflage-clad little boys in her backseat, mentally searching for anything she might have ever learned about children in her twenty-eight years on the planet.

She came up empty. That didn’t sound promising for the orphaned nephews now in her care.

Tear tracks snaked a path down three-year-old Todd’s round cheeks, a worn, black stuffed kitty named Panther clutched tight against his chest. Five-year-old Tyler slumped against the corner of the car, burrowing, as if hoping to disappear into the upholstery. He shed no tears, but the quiet look of abandonment seemed worse for lack of emotion.

Scared. Uncertain. Handed off as though they were parcel post packages from one place to another. And no doubt hungry, but few restaurants were open this late on Thanksgiving Day, a should-be-glorious holiday of roast turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and stuffing.

The thought of homemade stuffing made her mouth water. How much more must two little fellows be longing for a good old-fashioned holiday?

Part of her was glad their maternal great-aunt had found Anthony’s will that named her the boys’ guardian. Another part longed to run screaming.

She took the turn toward Jamison, knowing she had no food in her recently acquired no-frills apartment and the grocery store had closed mid-afternoon. And with the boys’ meager belongings piled and shoved into every corner of her convertible, she had no room for a shopping trip and precious few funds to bankroll extra groceries this week.

Whoever said God’s timing was perfect should be chastised, because this situation was about as far from perfect as life could get.

A flashing sign caught her attention as she approached the Park Round, the picturesque town circle surrounded by five country churches and a couple of pastors’ homes.

Free Thanksgiving Dinner!

Join us from 2:00 till 5:00 on Thanksgiving Day

for a friend-filled holiday feast! All are welcome!

An arrow pointed toward the back of Good Shepherd Church. An upgraded older building stood there, caught in the trees, an aged steeple rising white against the late-November drab of damp bark. A chill wind bowed the sticklike trees, but the white-washed hall was surrounded by cars and bathed in light from garden stake lamps below.

Dinner.

Free.

One glance at her dashboard clock said they were nearing the late side of the offer. She faltered, not wanting to subject the boys to any more disappointments on a day that should be filled with family. Fun. Food. Rejoicing.

The word feast turned her hands on the wheel. Or maybe it was the Holy Spirit. In any case, she angled the car up the drive and into a parking spot. She climbed out and tilted the driver’s seat forward, banging her head and knee in the process.

Red ragtops weren’t designed as family vehicles.

“Where are we going?” Tyler eyed her from his booster seat, glancing around to discern an easy way out of the car. There wasn’t one.

“Climb out this way.” Haley jerked her head toward her side as she struggled with the puzzlelike latches on Todd’s car seat. Who knew you needed a math degree to figure out a five-point latch system? “Once I’ve got your brother out, that is.”

As she pulled Todd from the backseat, she managed to bump his head, too. Not too badly, but enough to start the waterworks flowing, full steam ahead. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” She crooned the words and rubbed the spot, wishing she’d thought to cushion his head with her hand while extracting him.

Next time, for sure.

“I hate this car.” Tyler made the pronouncement as he finagled his way across small bags and totes shoved into the backseat.

“I’m not all that fond of it myself at this moment,” Haley assured him. “But it’s paid for and it runs and at one time it was a status symbol. Cute blonde chick in blazing hot red convertible with mag wheels.”

“It’s dumb.” Tyler brushed off his five-year-old knees with an air of impatience. “And we don’t fit.”

There lay the crux of the problem. Todd and Tyler hadn’t “fit” in a long time. These two little boys had lost their mother and father in the past two years and they’d been shuffled around to various homes for months—way too much change for a level-headed grown-up.

Two boys, aged three and five?

Ridiculous.

But possibly made more outlandish by her half brother’s will naming her their legal guardian. Anthony scarcely knew her. She barely knew him. They shared a father and a legal relationship recognized by courts. Other than that? They’d met half a dozen times over the years, mostly at weddings and funerals.

What was he thinking?

The door to the hall swung open and a couple of old-timers stepped out. “Ma’am, may I hold the door for you?” An old man dipped his head in courtly fashion, a shock of white hair dancing in the wind. “That wind’s a breath-stealer, sure enough.”

She hesitated, not wanting to ask if there was still food, not daring to get the boys’ hopes up only to dash them again. “I, um...”

“Plenty of good eats in there, miss, and I think those two boys are just the thing for them folks inside. Nothin’ like bein’ ’round a couple o’ young-uns to remind us why we keep on keepin’ on.”

His words eased her path. Did he see the hunger? Or the fear? Or both?

In any case, Haley grasped a boy’s hand in each of hers and walked the last twenty paces. “Thank you, sir.”

“Jed, have a mind, will you, and close that door,” bossed a woman’s voice from within. “My tablecloths are being tugged every which way!”

The old guy exchanged a grin with Haley, winked at the boys and hollered back, “Customers, mother! We’ve got two young soldiers in need of a bite.”

Haley stepped inside, Todd on her right, Tyler on her left. Silence descended as she and the boys moved from the front room into the gathering area, as if few in the room imagined little boys coming to Thanksgiving dinner at the church hall.

A tall man stepped forward. Fortyish. Good-looking. Square-shouldered. Broad-built. Dark hazel eyes matched military-cut hair, walnut-toned with hints of light. His assessing gaze went liquid brown while he pondered the boys at her side, as if recognizing something perfect and precious. He blinked and the look was gone, but the integral air of quiet authority and respect remained. Haley had the oddest urge to salute the big guy. Or maybe just hug him. Right about now, she could use a hug.

A pleased murmur stirred an air of delight through the room.

“Look at them!”

“Aren’t they marvelous?”

“Oh, they are!”

“Who are they?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. It’s just so nice to see such handsome little boys at our feast!”

A tiny smile quirked the man’s left cheek, just enough to show amusement tempered with respect, book-end qualities that few men in Haley’s age range possessed.

This man had both and more, his take-charge attitude calming the confusion within her without speaking a word. He squatted to the boys’ level, but didn’t invade their space. His sensitivity loosened their grip on Haley’s hands, her arms, as if willing to meet the big guy halfway. A neat trick, all told.

“You hungry, boys?”

“Yes.” Todd nodded, emphatic.

“Starving.” Tyler sent a bullish look Haley’s way. “She drove all day and didn’t want to stop anyplace.”

“Ah.” The man appeared to weigh Tyler’s words. “Traveling on a holiday can be tough. Stores close early. Some restaurants don’t open at all.”

“Really?” Tyler poked his head closer to the man, then hooked a thumb back to Haley. “That’s what she said, but I figured she was making it up.”

The man’s gaze traveled up, and not all that quickly, as if appreciating the journey. Deep hazel eyes locked and held her attention long enough to make her heart trip faster. “Does she have a name?”

“Aunt Haley.” Tyler said the words with more than a little distrust.

“She’s pwetty.” Todd leaned closer to the man, too, following his brother’s lead. “And I like her yellow hair.”

“It’s drop-dead gorgeous,” the man agreed easily. He spiked that crooked smile up to Haley and had no idea what his gentle manner was doing to her. He winked at her, stood, reached for the boys’ hands, and to Haley’s surprise, they moved forward. “You guys ready to have Thanksgiving dinner with us?”

“Yes!”

“I am.” Tyler nodded, firm, obviously trying to contain his excitement. His reaction told Haley he was accustomed to disappointment. Her heart broke because she knew that feeling all too well.

“Haley? Haley, is that you?”

The little woman who helped run the mom-and-pop convenience store at the interstate junction bustled out from the kitchen and hurried their way. She flapped her apron and grinned, her high-wattage smile enough to make everything seem almost all right. “LuAnn.”

“And Charlie’s here, too,” the older woman fussed, her silver hair dancing sparks from the fluorescent lights above. “He’s going to be so excited to see you, dear, but who are your friends?” LuAnn Simmons bent low and stuck out a hand, but Haley noticed she handled the boys with deference, like the man had done, hanging back, not encroaching their space.

“My nephews,” Haley explained.

The man palmed Tyler’s head in a sweet gesture, but he moved back as LuAnn stormed in. He didn’t smile but his eyes grazed Haley, LuAnn and the boys. He dipped his chin slightly, noting the white-haired woman. “You’re in good hands. No one goes hungry with Charlie and LuAnn around.”

Haley knew that. She was a constant customer at their little store, its proximity to her new business venture making the Crossroads Mini-Mart a perfect spot for quick food. Consumed with building a new shopping cooperative just across the road, quick and easy food had become a mainstay in her life.

LuAnn’s head bobbed, excited. “‘When I was hungry, you gave me to eat. When I was thirsty, you gave me to drink.’”

The man’s face darkened as if a shade had been pulled. He moved back to the kitchen area while LuAnn steered the boys to the still-laden buffet.

Todd cringed back, hesitating, but his nose twitched as if the smell of food broke an unseen barrier. “This is Todd, LuAnn.”

“Todd.” He didn’t take LuAnn’s hand and she didn’t force the issue. She sent him a bright smile, and her cheerful brown eyes made Haley feel less worried and alone. Amazing what a smile can do.

And a half smile, she noted as the tall man rejoined volunteers in the kitchen preparation area.

“And this is Tyler. He’s five.”

Tyler extended his hand to LuAnn. Haley sent him a smile of encouragement. “Thank you, Tyler. LuAnn is my friend. She and I work at stores near each other.”

“Oh.” Tyler tried to look polite, then failed as his eyes darted to the buffet table. “Can we eat now?”

“You most certainly can.” LuAnn drew him forward. She picked up a sturdy stoneware plate and waved a hand. “I know you’re big enough to pick out your own food, Tyler, but this table’s a little high. I think if I hold your plate and you tell me every little thing you want on it, we’d make a good team. What do you say?” She angled a birdlike glance his way. “May I be your partner?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Haley owed the older woman for handling Tyler so easily. She wouldn’t have had a clue. She followed LuAnn’s example, showing Todd the food, letting him choose as he held the black cat snug beneath his arm, unconcerned when he wanted twelve black olives because LuAnn hadn’t protested when Tyler asked for extra gherkins and stuffing. By the time they got the boy’s meat cut and grace said, LuAnn took a place alongside the boys and between a dozen gathered folks and waved Haley away. “Go. Fill your plate. I’ve got this covered.” She flashed a smile at the boys, watching as Todd struggled with the height of the table and the plate.

“Try this, LuAnn.”

The warm rumble of the man’s voice pulled Haley’s attention away from food. She would have thought that feat impossible at the moment, but something in that tone...

With one arm he hiked Todd up, then slipped a thick old-time phone book beneath Todd’s bottom. He resettled Todd onto his new raised “seat,” and the better vantage point made the little boy shine with delight. He peeked up at the man and offered a dimpled grin and a quick salute.

The man’s smile faded.

Pain stilled his jaw. Shadowed his eyes.

LuAnn sent him a motherly look of concern, but said nothing.

He stepped back, turned and moved off to the kitchen again, in the crowd but not of it, Haley was sure on that.

LuAnn shoulder-nudged Haley’s leg. “You. Food. Go.”

Haley filled her plate, the scents and sounds of a family Thanksgiving surrounding her, a big-screen TV perched on a table at the far end of the hall covering the day’s football offerings while people gathered at tables eating, chatting, laughing.

If she’d wished for a perfect Thanksgiving, this would be it.

The fact that this was as close to family as she could possibly get just made that admission more sad.

* * *

Pretty yellow hair?

And then some, thought Colonel Brett Stanton as he commandeered cleanup in the hall kitchen, the image of Haley’s long, curly blond hair worth remembering.

He shouldered his way through a nest of female busybodies who’d gathered out of sight to wonder about the blonde and the two boys.

Brett didn’t wonder. He knew. He’d seen the longing right off. The hunger. The fear and uncertainty clouding their day. He might not know their story, but he knew the wistful look of wanting, wishing, hoping to have or be a family.

Sadness gripped from within, a clear-cut knife strike, the mistakes of the past wrangling a grip on the future.

“Aren’t they darling?” LuAnn hurried up beside him, two plates in hand. She handed them off to one of the chatterbox women and grasped Brett’s arm. “Thank you for being so nice to them. I’m sure Haley’s a little overwhelmed at the moment—”

Brett would have gone straight to shell shock, but he let the understatement pass.

“And this couldn’t happen at a worse time...”

Five sets of ears attempted nonchalance as they keened closer like covert agents on an info-gathering mission.

“But I know she’ll be fine. Just fine. And I’m so glad she saw our sign flashing out front. That’s what drew them in, you know.” LuAnn gave his arm a quick hug. “Brett, thank you for letting us use the sign today.”

She bustled back out, leaving the women and Brett to fill in the blanks. He finished scrubbing the second big roaster and handed it off to Kate McGee for drying. The elderly woman accepted it and offered, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but it did my heart good to see that little crew come walking in, all tired and bedraggled.”

“Ah. A Kate-ism looms, no doubt.” Maude McGinnity flashed Brett a grin he couldn’t help but return.

“Maude, you felt it, too,” Kate insisted. “I saw it in your face, you old bird. You got all moony and goofy the minute you laid eyes on them boys.”

“I did not.”

“Did, too, and I know why,” Kate continued. “They were travelers, finding their way home. Needing food. Lodging. So nice and Christmassy.”

“Oh, my land.” Maude shook her head, shooed the three less-productive women out of the kitchen and made a skeptical face as she layered pots and pans in the kitchen cupboards just so. “You do go on, Kate. Whereas I’d have said they’re hungry, most places are closed and we were mighty handy. What do you say, Brett?”

Brett didn’t make it through twenty-five years of this man’s army by being slow on the take. Uh-uh. He knew these women, knew they’d been watching his initial exchange with the blonde and the boys and there was no getting by the hawkeyes of the Jamison Hose Company’s Ladies’ Auxiliary.

Time to employ diversionary tactics and pretend the waiflike family hadn’t affected him. “The little guy’s about the same age as your great-grandson, isn’t he, Kate?”

“Looks to be.”

“How’s Aiden doing?”

“Adorable! Just adorable!” Kate’s face broadened with laughter, family pride deepening each and every wrinkle in her sweet, old face.

Maude sent Brett a look, half-grudging, half-complimentary, recognizing his ploy. He returned it with a wink, unstoppered the deep commercial-sized sink and moved to the back door. “I’m going to check cleanup outside before it gets too dark.”

“Thank you, Brett.”

He tipped the sludge-green brim of his army cap her way before stepping through the back door.

Bleak November greeted him. Dank. Dark. Gloomy. Gray. Fall had been vibrant with color, but the leaves were pretty much gone now. Here and there a larch tree stood in golden splendor, painting points of light along the Allegany hillsides, their amber needles lingering until late in the season.

November. A month of remembrance for so many. Veteran’s Day... Thanksgiving...

The chilly, dull days afforded too much thinking time, Brett determined. The late-autumn month offered too many moments to bow his head and wish he’d done things differently. But it was too late now.

“Brett, you need help out here?” Charlie Simmons ambled his way, a snug knit cap covering his balding head. LuAnn’s touch, for sure. “Kate said you were looking to make sure nothing got left undone.”

God bless Kate McGee because they all knew he was more likely escaping too many people. Too much interaction. Too much of a good thing that slipped, quicksilver, through his hands. “Just figured I’d catch a breath and give the women some space in the kitchen.”

“I hear ya.” Charlie flashed him a knowing smile before he settled his gaze along the now-diminished row of cars in the parking lot. “We did good today.”

Charlie’s comment embraced more than food. He meant they’d opened doors for folks who might never take a handout, but a party, sponsored by the local firemen and their wives?

That took the sting out of neediness and put it in a whole new light.

When I was hungry, you gave me to eat...

Brett had done that often while deployed. He’d fed locals, helped the downtrodden, guided the weary, all while wearing the uniform of the country he loved. But he’d paid a price he’d never considered, and that realization bit to the core of his being. If only... His wandering thoughts ground to a halt when a warm voice drew his attention to the entrance door.

The blonde...

Haley, he corrected himself internally.

Stepped through the door, her generous smile a flash of sun in a time of rain. The boys followed, their faces more relaxed and somewhat sleepy.

“Haley!” LuAnn followed with Maude McGinnity. Both women bore bags of covered food dishes, the aluminum foil squeaking protest as they moved. “We need a home for some of these leftovers and you and the boys are just the ticket!”

Just the ticket?

The Mayberry-type saying fit the day, the occasion, the people and Jamison, New York, the picturesque little town nestled in the heart of Allegany County.

Haley turned. Surprise and pleasure brightened her profile. She didn’t wave off the food or pretend not to need it. She helped LuAnn snug the packaged plates between tightly wedged items in the sporty red car, then hugged both women while the boys attempted to fasten their belts.

“Thank you.” She smiled at Maude, then LuAnn, grasping each woman’s hand in hers. “You have no idea how necessary this is right now. I had to use all my ready cash on last week’s deliveries, the bank hasn’t released the next draft on the loan as yet, and we need to have that final wing open next week.”

“I know.” LuAnn leaned forward, obviously understanding the woman’s thread of conversation while Brett drew a complete blank. “And if you need anything, anything at all...”

“A babysitter.” Haley lowered her voice and kept a grip on both women’s hands. “This unexpected development has me in a crunch. Tomorrow is Black Friday and my retailers expect me on site. My cousin Alyssa hooked me up with Rory Madigan—”

“A lovely girl.” Maude nodded approval. LuAnn’s quick blink agreed.

“But she’s an Irish dancer and has a feis this weekend in Buffalo. So I can use her tomorrow, but then there’s Saturday and Sunday that need coverage.”

“On a holiday weekend, to boot,” LuAnn added, concerned.

“And our Jessie is due to deliver any minute,” Charlie put in, “or we’d be glad to help out.”

Brett stayed still. Silent. He hadn’t meant to be part of this conversation and had every intention of ignoring his conscience. He’d spent the last two years living life alone. Quiet. In the background except for when it came to the fire department. Just him, the dog and an amazing room full of model trains.

He loved his volunteer firefighting job. Helping others. Battling fires. Covering inspections, as needed. Maybe he was always meant to be a battler and that’s why the army had fit so well.

Too well.

“We’ll figure it out,” LuAnn promised as Haley redirected Todd’s fingers to engage his car seat straps. A tiny “click” said they got it done. “You take the boys home, get them settled and I’ll see what I can come up with tomorrow. Okay?”

“God bless you, LuAnn.” Haley hugged the older woman, her crush of blond hair reflecting the dawn-to-dusk light. She slid into the car, waved goodbye, backed out of the parking spot with ease and aimed the car toward the interstate and Brett’s retirement-funded convenience store, but she raised a sweet hand as she made the corner turn, and her face—

Oh, that face—

Sent them a bright smile as if certain everything would work out in the end.

Brett only wished her youthful optimism held true. And just as dark thoughts seemed determine to resettle, a small, wriggling body stretched up in her backseat, peering out. The scrunched face caught Brett’s gaze through the darkened rear window. The little fellow relaxed into a wide grin. The corner light gave just enough gleam for Brett to recognize Todd’s features, his rounded eyes, cheeks and chin holding a hint of the baby he’d been not long ago, and the precocious preschooler he was now.

He waved at Brett. Just Brett. And somehow that tiny action, unprovoked, innocent and childlike, shoved those old thoughts aside. Way aside.

Brett smiled. Raised his hand.

The boy did the same, and in that moment Brett felt a gnarly old door tug open. It was his heart, rusted and worn, struggling to work free.

And it felt good.

Chapter Two

“Boss? You’re good?”

Brett nodded toward Steve Huber and Ramir Martinez, his two college-aged employees who got him through a crazy busy Black Friday at the Crossroads Mini-Mart. “Yes. See you guys tomorrow. And thank you.” He met each young man’s look with a smile of appreciation as he cleaned the narrow delicatessen area. “I don’t know what I would have done without you today.”

Steve grinned and Ramir offered a thumbs-up as they left. The young men came through in a pinch when Charlie and LuAnn’s daughter decided to give birth mid-morning. And with the new shopping enterprise recently opened across the street?

The Crossroads had set record sales figures today. And that was nothing to take lightly in tough economic times.

Brett had pretty much decided he hated the idea of destination shopping when the fancy merchants’ co-operative began stringing twinkle lights ad nauseam two weeks ago. But when their Black Friday business spilled over to his dolled-up convenience store directly across the two-lane road leading to I-86, he realized he might owe the developer an apology. And a thank you. Except for being a little short on workers, it had been an amazing day. And he’d felt good about being out here. Manning the store. Making special-order fast food along the deli wall.

He’d do a repeat performance tomorrow because Les Simmons, Charlie’s brother and their regular weekend fill-in guy, had become Allegany County’s first recorded case of influenza, so he’d be unavailable to help this weekend. With Charlie, LuAnn and Les all in absentia, Brett would be hands-on for a couple of days at least.

Charlie and LuAnn Simmons were friends, employees and pseudo-parents, the kind of folks who made things better by just being themselves. Seeking solitude in his bungalow home behind the store, he’d watched the sales numbers rise over the summer. That was to be expected as travelers and tourists tooled down I-86.

But now?

He directed his gaze to the newly-created enterprise perched on the southwest corner. White twinkle lights blinked along the roofline of the former furniture factory’s extended front facade, lighting antique-style cedar shingles with cozy brightness. Small trees winked in similar style, lining a parking lot that had been filled with cars until a short while ago. Customers had buzzed in and out all day, shopping nonstop. And some of those cars needed gas. Other shoppers needed food. Which meant the Crossroads did well.

The door opened. Brett turned.

Haley stood framed in the doorway, flanked by the two little boys, and if their expressions set the evening’s tone, she had a long night in store. Tyler looked mutinous and the littler guy... Todd, he remembered...clutched the same scruffy, black stuffed cat that had been a mainstay at dinner yesterday.

“It’s you.”

She looked startled to see him, and maybe pleased? Brett hadn’t been out of the game that long. Had he? “It’s me.”

“Where are Charlie and LuAnn? And Steve? Or Ramir?” She answered her own question before Brett could jump in. “Jess must have had her baby! How wonderful. Oh, tell me, is it a boy or a girl?”

Her face transformed as she talked about the baby. While babies were all right, he preferred children of the walking/talking sort, the ones who could interact and occasionally amuse themselves. Like the two little guys before him. “It’s a girl. Shelby Rose is her name....”

“Love it!” Haley beamed. Points of ivory made her eyes gleam, as if she’d stood in the “get sparkle here” line twice. The shine made the night less dark and damp, the persistent November rains less bothersome. She moved forward, smiling. “So they’re helping with Michaela?”

“Yes. I guess she’s excited to have a baby sister.”

“Wonderful.” Her smile said she approved, but then she dropped her attention to the boys at her side. “So, boys, what kind of sandwich would you like?”

“Nuggets.”

“Me, too.”

Haley’s face reflected their predictability and her dismay. “The Crossroads doesn’t have—”

Brett negated her argument with a hand up. “Watch me.” He came around the counter, crossed the store, opened the wall freezer and withdrew a small, white box and hoisted it. “Nuggets.”

Her look of relief made him feel ten feet tall and he tried not to notice that the forest-green peacoat layered over well-fitted blue jeans and heeled boots made her New York chic in small-town, USA. He decided there was something really good to be said about big-city looks. He directed his gaze down to the boys. “You guys want fries to go with that?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, please.”

Brett bestowed a look of appreciation to Tyler. “You’ve got good manners, son. That’s something to be proud of.”

The boy’s expression lightened. Brett felt a pull on his heart again. Whatever their story was, these boys had run the gamut, and at a young age. Not fair. Not fair at all, Brett decided as he dropped the nuggets and fries into the fryer baskets. He turned and faced Haley, trying not to think of how her tumble of long, blond curls set off the coat to perfection. He’d have to be asleep or dead not to have noticed them, and he was neither. “And how about you?”

She shook her head quickly. Too quick, Brett decided, then remembered her back-and-forth with LuAnn yesterday. She was short on funds.

He wasn’t.

He leaned over the counter, braced his hands and held her gaze. “I know you’ve got leftovers at home. I’m going to bet that these two refused to eat them for Rory Madigan today.”

Two guilty looks peeked up from below.

“And I’m going to surmise that you’ve worked all day and by the time you get the boys home, fed and into bed it will be nearly nine o’clock. So, consider this an order, not a question—what can I make you, Haley?”

The use of her name softened her jaw. She met his gaze, faltered, then caved. “May I have a chicken salad panini, please?”

He’d just cleaned the panini press, but yes, he’d make the sandwich for her and clean it again. Without grumbling. “Sure.”

“With grapes?”

Did he hear her right? He started to turn when she added, “And chopped walnuts? Please?”

Fruit and nuts in chicken salad? On his panini grill?

“Charlie makes it for me all the time,” she went on, and Brett decided right then and there that Charlie might have some explaining to do with the cost of fruit and nuts crazy high this year. He reached for the loaf of Italian bread, but she caught his arm and sent sweet pings of attraction on an upward journey. “Oh, I’m sorry, Charlie always does my chicken salad on the rosemary focaccia bread, but you wouldn’t have any way of knowing that, would you?”

He wouldn’t because he’d spent the last two years keeping to himself, hiding in plain sight. His fault, he knew.

But he still meant to have a word or two with Charlie.

Haley darted quick glances to the pricing side of the lunch-board menu above him as he checked the nuggets and slid her sandwich into the press, prayed and locked the cover. The fryer bell signaled completion. He drained the fries and nuggets, piled them into two separate to-go containers, added dipping sauce, a pack of M&M’s and a juice box.

Haley’s eyes went round. She tripped over her words. “Um, we have drinks at home. The nuggets alone are fine, really. I, um...”

He ignored her protests, opened the panini press and smiled. No big mess, and the sandwich looked great. He flipped it onto the counter, cut it in half with a very manly carving knife, then slipped the grilled sandwich into a foam box for her, with a side of chips, her own miniature bag of M&M’s and an empty cup for a drink.

“Oh, I—”

He handed the cup to Tyler. “Can you help Aunt Haley get a drink, please?” He turned his attention back to Haley. “I’m guessing she wants a Diet Coke.”

She looked trapped and torn, but she followed Tyler to the soda bar, helped him hold the cup while she filled it, then let him assist again while they put a lid on it. She bent low and met Tyler’s eye. “Can you carry this for me, please?”

He nodded, looking less combative and more self-confident. “Yes, ma’am.”

Military manners, thought Brett. Polite. With good eye contact. Pretty impressive for a five-year-old.

Haley straightened, grabbed out a wallet and started fishing for a card. Brett raised his hands, holding her off. “No charge on that tonight, ma’am.”

She stopped. Stared. Then shook her head and extended the card anyway.

Brett stepped back, steadfast. “No charge.”

“But—”

“Just my way of welcoming the two newest citizens of Allegany County into the area.”

“But what will Charlie say?”

Brett didn’t choke. Obviously she thought Charlie and LuAnn owned the Crossroads. And her assumption was understandable because he’d kept to himself. When he wasn’t helping his mother. Or working with the fire department.

The store was his post-army investment property. The mom-and-pop mini-store had transformed into a lucrative enterprise as Allegany County’s economic woes diminished. Their recovery might be sluggish mid-winter, but the rest of the year? An upswing in business fed the cash register with a steady rise in income.

And after living on service pay minus careful investments for twenty-five years, Brett saw nothing wrong with a raise in salary.

He’d hired others to handle the store from the beginning, but being here today? Seeing the people, handling the orders, running the register for long hours? His hands-on involvement made him feel like he was part of something again. Between the Thanksgiving dinner yesterday and today’s crazy-paced business, he’d felt fully involved in life for the first time in, well... too long. And he liked the feeling. “I’ll fix it with Charlie.”

She opened her mouth to argue and he fought the urge to silence her with two broad fingers against those sweet lips, just to see if she felt as good as she looked. Something told him she would. Common sense and decorum held him back. “It’s fine. I promise.”

Her heartfelt smile said she caved and the quick sheen of tears meant he’d touched a raw spot. “Go.” He pointed toward the door. “Head home. Eat. Sleep. Tomorrow will be better.” He dropped his gaze and winked at the two little camouflage-clad boys. “I promise.”

“You have kids, Mr....?”

“Brett,” he told her. He came around the counter and swung the door wide for them. “And no, I don’t.” The old stab of pain hit him mid-section, but without the usual gut-punch force. “Not married.” He added that just in case she wondered. Maybe hoping she wondered. “But I was one, so I’ve got a pretty good take on things. Food. Play. More food. Bed.”

“Thank you, Brett.”

His heart stuttered as a seed of contentment nudged its way in. The way she said his name, kind of slow. Soft. The look of gratitude she sent him, that maybe said something more unless his skills had rusted from disuse.

“Come on, fellas. Let’s get you home.” She set the food on the passenger-side front seat, piled the boys into the car with greater ease than she’d displayed yesterday, and watched as Tyler tucked her cup into the cup holder. “Good job.”

Her approval evoked the boy’s smile, still tentative, but there.

Baby steps, Brett decided. He knew that regimen, all right.

He watched her pull away, then stared with surprise when she angled the car left, then right and pulled into the far right lot alongside the cooperative. A light blinked on in the back of the original furniture store. Then another.

She lived in the recently approved apartment behind the old furniture store. How had he missed that?

Then another thought occurred, bringing back her conversation yesterday, her concern, the money issues, the time constraints.

He let his gaze wander Bennington Station, the new “Street of Shops”-type shopping experience enjoying a grand opening month to beat the band. Realization struck hard and deep.

She was Haley Jennings, Frederick Bennington’s granddaughter, the mastermind behind the burgeoning enterprise spearheading new business opportunities and success in this corner of Allegany County.

And he was slated to do her fire safety inspection Monday morning.

The lights blinked, mocking him, as if daring him to find something wrong on Monday. Like she needed anything else on her plate right now.

But as interim inspector, the job was his while Bud Schmidt recovered from cancer surgery, and until then...

Haley Jennings would have to contend with him. He could only pray none of her merchants or subcontractors had messed up, but Brett knew the score. In the height of holiday shopping frenzy, everyone tried to use as much space as possible to promote themselves and their products. Improperly wired lighting displays, blocked exits, windows that wouldn’t open with the rain or snow...

All things that could spell disaster. People hurt. Lives lost. Too often a little caution could have provided a totally different outcome.

He ground his jaw and wondered how he’d missed her presence all these months, but the reality of that bit hard.

He’d been hiding, plain and simple. And the time for seclusion was over.

Chapter Three

Haley’s cell phone buzzed as she clicked the bedroom door shut, wondering if little boys should bathe every night.

She hoped not.

She withdrew the phone, saw LuAnn’s name and quickly answered. “LuAnn, hi. How’s everything? Is Jess okay? And Shelby Rose? Is she doing fine?”

LuAnn’s laugh held a hint of question. “Jess is fine, Michaela’s excited, the baby’s beautiful and has a healthy set of lungs just like her mother. How did you find out about her? I didn’t want to call you at work because I knew how crazy today would be.”

“Brett told me.”

“Brett told you?” Surprise hiked the older woman’s voice.

“The boys weren’t exactly cooperative today, and by the time I got Rory home, they were starving. All those nice leftovers you provided for us yesterday? They won’t touch them. And by eight o’clock at night, I was too tired to fight it and not mean enough to starve ’em.”

“So you stopped at the Crossroads for food.”

“Brett made them nuggets and fries.”

“He... What?” LuAnn’s surprise pitched higher. “We don’t have chicken nuggets at the Crossroads.”

“I know.” Haley breathed a sigh as she sank into the corner of her “new” resting place. She’d given the boys her big bed and taken the couch. She’d pretend the old cast-off sofa provided great support and she’d ignore the lumps, at least until life settled down after the holidays. Come January she should be able to breathe.

But she wasn’t wishing the biggest shopping season of the year away. These eight weeks of sales provided enough profit for many to stay in business over the cold, dark days of a northern winter. She’d learned that in Lewisburg when she worked at the Street of Shops throughout her college years. She’d watched, listened and learned. When opportunity came her way in the shape of her grandfather’s bequest of the somewhat-worn buildings, she was ready. She hoped.

“Well, I won’t keep you, dear. I just wanted to say that Charlie and I will take the boys tomorrow. They can play here with Michaela and you’re free to work as long as you need to.”

Gratitude clogged Haley’s throat. “LuAnn, that’s a lovely gesture, but—”

“There’ll be no buts,” LuAnn cut in firmly. “We’re two grown adults watching one little girl. Having the boys here will keep her busy. You’re actually doing us a favor. Charlie is insisting that he’s played the last game of Dora Memory in this lifetime, and because that’s Michaela’s current favorite, she wants to play it nonstop.”

That information plugged another piece of the child-puzzle into Haley’s thinking. “So that’s normal for preschoolers?”

LuAnn laughed. “Absolutely. They grab on to a thought or a game and run with it repeatedly. Then they drop that and hang on to the next thing that takes their fancy. All quite normal, dear.”

“And Todd’s stuffed cat? Panther?” She said the little stuffed cat’s name with a firm question mark attached. “It’s not weird that he won’t put it down? Ever? And gets really nervous when he does?”

“He’s lost a great deal.” LuAnn’s voice went soft and reassuring. “Sometimes when we lose what we love, we cling tighter to what’s left behind.”

Words of wisdom. And that would explain why Todd mimicked Tyler repeatedly. There was safety in continuity, in same old, same old. Haley didn’t know that from childhood experience. Her choppy upbringing held no horrid skeletons in the closet, but it didn’t hold much substance either. And her mother would never understand why Haley drove straight to New Jersey when she’d heard of the boys’ plight, grabbed the little fellows and brought them back to the Southern Tier of New York.

No. Her mother would have sent a generous check and moved on with her life, which made Haley more determined to distance herself from the money-is-everything mind-set her mother and stepfather embraced.

“Haley, are you still there?”

“Sorry, LuAnn. Just thinking. You know how dangerous that is for a blonde.”

LuAnn laughed. “Not for you. I’ve never met a sweeter, funnier, smarter or more industrious young woman and I’ve been around a long time, Haley. You’re one of a kind.”

Oh, those words of affirmation. They sparked emotion in Haley. She blinked tears back and put the emotion on hold, a skill she’d learned long ago. She didn’t know if indifference was as painful as physical trials and tribulations in childhood, but she understood the heartache of it firsthand.

An absentee father, an uncaring mother and a posh setting that pretended everything was all right. It had never been all right, but she’d moved up and out, determined to be her own person. This new enterprise achieved that, and made her proud. “LuAnn, you’re sure it’s not too much for you guys?”

“Because we’re old?” LuAnn wondered out loud, laughing.

“No, because...” Haley tripped over her words, trying to backpeddle. She failed miserably. “I—”

“It will be fine, dear. Just fine. Charlie will swing by at eight o’clock. And if they’re still in their jammies, just send clothes along. They can get dressed here.”

Another reprieve. She had no idea that getting children dressed could be such an ordeal and wasn’t sure if that was normal or not. Were they testing her?

Yes.

Were they winning?

She wrinkled her nose. So far, they were. And she couldn’t deny she’d felt a certain sense of relief when she left the boys in Rory’s capable hands that morning. Was that an understandable reaction or was she lacking the mother gene?

“Give it time, Haley.” LuAnn’s gentle wisdom uplifted her. “We live such fast-paced lives today that we forget to sit back. Be still. Breathe. Let things unfold.”

“I feel pushed to hurry,” Haley confessed, knowing LuAnn would somehow understand. “To achieve. To succeed.”

“I think that’s why the Psalms talk so much about patience.” LuAnn’s voice blanketed her. Warmed her from within. “To wait on the Lord. To stand strong and steadfast. But no one said it would be easy.”

Haley got that, but right now, with two little souls suddenly dependent on her, a fledgling business to run and rising concern over the absence of that second bank draft in her business account, letting go and letting God proved to be a difficult concept. Maybe impossible. But once things settled down...

“Get some sleep,” LuAnn advised. “Charlie will be there first thing.”

“Thank you, LuAnn.”

“You’re welcome.” LuAnn paused, but didn’t hang up the phone. In a voice that sounded a touch off, she went back to the beginning of their conversation. “Did you really say that Brett made the boys chicken nuggets?”

“Yes. He totally saved the moment because I was facing mutiny.”

“And Brett’s our go-to person to defuse mutiny, that’s for sure.” LuAnn’s tone mixed satisfaction with amusement. “Good night, dear.”

“Good night.”

Haley disconnected the call, grabbed the quilt she’d bought at Maude McGinnity’s shop last summer, snugged her head into a not-so-comfortable throw pillow and promised herself a shopping trip soon. At least for a decent pillow to avoid the sore-neck headache she contended with today.

She’d get through tomorrow. Then Sunday. On Monday she’d hand over the reins of the co-op to one of the more experienced merchants and tackle the ever-growing to-do list, slightly annoyed that none of the tasks could be accomplished on her smartphone:

Sign Tyler up for school.

Find day care for Todd.

Talk to the bank officer and trace the delay on her loan.

Shop for food as funds allowed.

The fire inspection. She’d forgotten that the co-op was scheduled for another fire inspection Monday because the new wing was near completion. And with a busy weekend facing her, she didn’t have extra time to make sure everything was perfectly spaced for the inspector.

But she’d have to because that was her job. She’d stay late Sunday and ask the merchants to check their own areas. Would they do it with her diligence?

Some would, some wouldn’t. But with time growing short, she’d have to trust them to police their own areas for fire safety rules. The old showroom area had burned once, under suspicious circumstances, twenty years ago. She had no intention of letting her grandfather’s legacy burn again.

Chapter Four

Brett’s phone buzzed him awake shortly after 2:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, which made perfect sense because the bars closed right about then. He dragged himself awake, hating to take the call, knowing he had no choice. “Hey, Mom.”

“Brett.”

His throat tightened. His heart pinched. He knew that slur, that tone. “Where are you?”

“I’m home.”

That might or might not be true. “Do you need a ride?”

“To where?”

He refused to sigh even though they’d traveled this ground often enough. “Home.”

“But I am home.”

The sound of raindrops and the movement of the occasional car said she wasn’t. She needed a ride and was ashamed to ask. But she knew if she called, he’d figure it out. He always did. “I’ll be right there. Which road are you on?”

She breathed deep, the sensitive mic telling him she was moving. Turning, maybe? Finding her bearings? “I’m near the library.”

“In Wellsville?”

“Yes.” The lisped word drained energy from his meager middle-of-the-night stash. “It’s raining.”

Pouring, actually. He grabbed a heavy jacket from a hook, his keys and a blanket to warm her. “I’m on my way. Go up the library stairs and wait. The rain can’t soak you there.”

“Okay.”

She wouldn’t do it. She’d be afraid someone would come along in the shadowed overhang. Find her. Make trouble. No, she’d feel more secure out by the street, with streetlights guiding her way, despite the teeming rain and lack of cover.

She hadn’t called him in weeks. He’d hoped things were better. And he knew she’d gone to AA a couple of times, but he also knew overcoming addiction was hard work. Many a soldier under his command had fought addictive behaviors. Some succeeded. Some didn’t.

But his mother’s angst and depression made her a prime candidate, and she’d resumed old habits once his younger brother Ben had died in a military chopper training run over rugged California mountains.

Ben gone.

Joe gone.

And his mother had no one but him around to help pick up the pieces. She only called when desperate, but maybe this time he could make a difference. Maybe this time...

He headed through Jamison, the picturesque little town buttoned up for the night. The Highway Department had strung lights and affixed wreaths on old-style lampposts. The whimsical effect proffered charm and invitation, and Jamison specialized in charismatic appeal. But tonight the prettiness of the Christmas season mocked him. He’d let down his son. His brother. And his mother wanted little to do with him most days.

But that hadn’t changed much in four decades, so he wasn’t exactly looking for a miracle. More like peace of mind. Atonement.

He pulled up to the library fifteen minutes later and found no sign of Joanna Stanton anywhere.

He parked the SUV, climbed out and took the library steps at a quick clip, but no one waited under the overhang.

“Mom?”

He kept his voice soft and low. The neighbors living along North Main Street wouldn’t appreciate being awakened at three in the morning. “Mom?”

Nothing.

He took out his phone and punched in her number on his speed dial.

“Hellooo?”

“Mom, where are you?”

“Who is this?”

Brett hauled in a breath, looked around and still couldn’t find her. “It’s Brett. You called me for a ride. I’m here at the library in Wellsville. Where are you?”

She hiccupped. “In Wellsville? At this hour? Why?”

“Because you called me.”

“Did I?” A long pause stretched thin before she spoke again. “Oh, I got a ride, but thank you very much for calling.”

Click.

She got a ride?

From whom?

And where was she now?

He climbed back into the SUV and headed toward her apartment complex on the north side of town, then idled the engine outside, debating a course of action.

No lights. No movement.

He rang the bell, but wasn’t sure how far to go. Was she in there, passed out? Had some good Samaritan taken her home? Or had she decided to spend the remainder of an awful night with someone from the bar?

He had no way of knowing, and not enough information to call 9-1-1. His mother was a grown woman with choices. He wished she’d make better ones, but that hadn’t happened while he was growing up. And her fifteen-year stint of sobriety had ended with Ben’s death.

He got back into the SUV, drove home, gave up on the idea of sleep, stared at his bookshelves and moved right past the row of books on how to be a better person, settled on a new action thriller and pretended his mother was safe and sound in her apartment, cozy and warm.

It was a form of make-believe he employed in childhood. It didn’t work any better now that he was a man.

* * *

No way would she make it to the church on time. Or even close, Haley determined as the boys took forever to get ready.

“Do we haaaaave to go?” Tyler whined. “I’d rather stay home and play with toys.”

“Me, too.” Todd plunked himself down and sent her a most serious look. “I don’t want to go to stupid old church. Ever.”

“Church isn’t stupid,” Haley corrected Todd as she grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and tossed Tyler’s across the small sofa. “It’s nice.”

Tyler snorted.

Todd followed suit.

Neither made a move to put their coats on.

Haley decided reasoning might help. “And you’ve never been to this church—”

“We’ve never been to any church,” Tyler interrupted. He folded his arms and braced his legs, a miniature man-in-the-making and too stubborn for his own good. “And if my mom and dad wanted me to go to church, they’d have taken me.”

Not to be outdone, Todd mimicked the action and the out-thrust lower jaw. “Me, too.”

Nothing in Psych 101 prepared Haley to argue with Tyler. So she wouldn’t. “Mom and Dad were busy. I’m not. Therefore we’re going to church.”

“But!”

“But!”

“No buts. My house. My rules. And Sunday morning is time for God. For worship. For music.”

“Could just get a stupid radio,” Tyler muttered, but he grabbed his jacket, slung it over his head and opened the door.

“I hate this jacket,” Todd whined as Haley bent to help him connect the zipper. “It’s dumb. And Panther doesn’t like it either.”

“Inanimate objects can’t be dumb, but it is a pain-in-the-neck zipper. And I think you’ve almost outgrown it, kid. And Panther’s a pretty smart cat.” She directed her gaze down to the worn stuffed animal. “He wants you warm.”

“Really?” Todd’s face lit up. “Well, that’s nice.” He clutched the black cat tighter. “I can get a new coat maybe?”

“As soon as I find time to shop,” Haley promised. She’d checked her bank account that morning. No transfer of funds as yet, and that meant she’d still have to invent time in her Monday schedule to find out why the second draft of the bank loan hadn’t been initiated. Concern tweaked her. What if the bank backed out? What if they wanted to renegotiate terms? Would her lawyer charge her more? Would the bank do that? Could they do that?

She wasn’t sure, which meant she’d be working under a cloud the rest of the day, wondering. Waiting. Hoping the draft would be released in time to pay her subcontractors by midweek. Contracted workers didn’t take kindly to being stiffed anytime of year, but at Christmas? While finishing up the final phase of a large contract?

Praying nothing was amiss, she got the boys into the car, drove the three-quarters of a mile into Jamison, found a parking spot and realized she’d be almost twenty minutes late for the first service at Good Shepherd, but ten minutes early for the White Church at the Bend.

The ticking clock spelled victory for the White Church.

She grasped a little-boy hand in each of hers and climbed the steps, glad the steady rain had given it a rest, at least for now.

“Haley.”

Matt Cavanaugh’s voice welcomed her as she and the boys entered the newly refinished church. Matt had been her initial contractor for Bennington Station, and he was paid in full, so she didn’t have to feel embarrassed to see him, an emotion she loathed. “Matt. Callie. How nice to see you guys.”

Matt Cavanaugh gave her a half hug, then squatted low to meet the boys. “You must be Tyler.”

Tyler nodded, shy but not too taken aback.

“And you’re Todd.”

“I’m free.” Todd wriggled three chubby fingers into the air like a beacon, his other hand clutching Panther.

“Three?” Matt’s face displayed wide-eyed appreciation for that bit of information. “Great age, buddy. This is my wife, Callie.” He stepped back as his wife smiled down at the boys. “And our son, Jake. And our daughter, Morgan.”

“A baby,” Tyler noted, unimpressed.

“We like babies,” Todd insisted.

“You do,” Tyler argued. His arms clenched his middle again. “I don’t. They smell.”

“Um, well, that’s enough now, boys.” Haley made a face at Callie and Callie laughed, shrugging it off. The newborn baby girl in Matt’s arms slept on, unfazed by the boy’s gruff appraisal.

“They’re just at that age where if it pops in their head, it comes out their mouth,” Callie explained. “No filter.”

“You’ve got that right.” Haley sent a wistful glance Jake’s way. “So it gets better, right? Because Jake is always a sweetheart and he’s what? Nine? Ten?”

“Nine. And yes, it gets better.” Callie Cavanaugh reached out and gave Haley a hug. “Promise. And it’s nice to see you over here. Si will have something to hold over Reverend Hannity’s head when the reverend realizes you came here.”

“Timing.” Haley aimed her gaze to the boys and her watch. “We’ll start earlier next week, but I like coming here sometimes. Listening to Simon. He’s a character.”

Matt laughed. “And then some. And you like the upgrades to the church?”

Haley swept the refreshed church a look and offered Matt a shoulder chuck. “You’re fishing for compliments when you know you did great. Yes, between the new roof and the plaster and paint, it’s a huge difference. But mostly I love what you did with the pews. Cleaning them. Lightening them.” She stroked a hand across the broad-backed oak seating. “It’s beautiful.”

Matt smiled at her, but then his attention shifted up. Way up. “Brett, hey. How’s everything? Good to see you.”

Haley’s heart fluttered, hoping there was only one Brett in town. Heat suffused her cheeks in a childish reaction that felt silly and good all at once.

She turned. Looked up. Her good intentions flew out the window, a neat trick because the cold rain meant no windows were open.

He looked marvelous. Tall. Broad. Freshly shaved. He wore a charcoal, tan and brown tweed jacket over a blended-brown turtleneck that matched his hazel eyes. He was, by definition, gorgeous, and she’d love to pretend he wasn’t, but acting had never been her forte. He looked down, caught her eye and smiled.

Just smiled.

But that smile held her gaze and put a choke hold on her heart despite the fact that they’d met only days before. She couldn’t break the look if she tried, and she really didn’t want to try, but people began seating themselves around them, getting ready for worship.

Which was exactly why she’d come, right? To give the boys a taste of faith. Of family. Of community.

With Brett Stanton so close, the only thing she could wrap her mind around was wondering how a man this big, strong and rugged hadn’t been married off yet. These days, that should raise flags of concern, but not with him. And that made her wonder why.

A soft guitar strum reminded her to find a seat.

Brett stepped back, motioned a hand left and let her and the boys file into the filling pew. There wasn’t enough room for all four of them, and she realized too late he’d given up his seat for her and the boys, but when she turned to thank him, he was gone, into the back, seated quietly in the last row.

“And the first shall be last.”

He didn’t look her way or blanket her with another smile, but it felt good to have him there. To know he sat nearby.

* * *

She was willing to rise to a challenge, Brett decided. He’d suspected as much, but seeing her this morning, with the boys’ stubborn little chins set in determined objection, he knew she had what it takes to make this parenting gig work. But a little help from some friends couldn’t hurt.

You’re not her friend, his conscience scolded.

But I will be, Brett decided. Pastor Simon MacDaniel strolled into the polished and reconditioned sanctuary, and Brett realized two things. One, that Simon’s gentle charismatic nature was drawing more people every week, and two...

That it would take more than Simon’s charm to make him forget that Haley Jennings and two needy little boys sat a mere thirty feet away. If her tumble of golden hair wasn’t enough of a distraction, Todd’s little smile, turned just toward him, clinched the deal.

He’d make it easy and pray for her and the boys today. Concentrate his efforts. And with the sweet smile she’d raised in his direction, it wouldn’t be a hard task at all.

* * *

Simon grinned at Haley after the service and waved a hand toward Good Shepherd Church across the Park Round. “Wait ’til Reverend Hannity hears about this.”

“Trouble maker.” She grinned up at him, then slanted her gaze to the boys. “Pastor Si, these are my nephews, Tyler—” she indicated the older boy by raising their linked hands

“—and Todd. They’ve come to live with me.”

Simon squatted low to speak to them. “Nice to meet you both.” He put out a hand to each boy in turn, shook theirs, then angled his gaze up toward Haley. “We’re having coffee and doughnuts in the common room downstairs.”

Haley winced, hesitating. The co-op was slated to open at noon and she needed to be there. As yet, she had no one to watch the boys. Jess was bringing the baby home today and Charlie and LuAnn needed to be on hand to help their daughter and son-in-law. Her cousin Alyssa Michaels was working at The Edge, their family restaurant, and Alyssa’s husband, Trent, was coaching football for their teenaged son. That meant the boys would be going with her to Bennington Station, a solution that ranked dead last on her list of preferences.

“I like doughnuts.” Tyler sent a wistful look upward.

“I love them this much.” Todd opened his arms wide, the black kitty clutched tightly in his outstretched fingers. “Panther does, too.”

“Haley.”

That voice. The tone. The deep rumble that stirred things she didn’t know existed before Thanksgiving Day. She turned, swallowing hard, pretty sure she’d trip over anything she might try to say. “Yes?”

He reached down and scooped Todd up. The boy giggled, delighted with his new, high vantage point. Brett settled a big, broad hand on Tyler’s head in a gentle move of inclusion. “Come have coffee and doughnuts, leave the boys with me for the afternoon so you can work and then you won’t be either kicking yourself or second-guessing yourself for the next six hours.”

“Could we?” Tyler looked excited by the prospect of hanging out with Brett, but Haley barely knew this man.

“I would wuv that!” Todd beamed a smile at Brett and then bumped his little head into Brett’s forehead in a mini-man gesture of salute. “Can we play at your house?”

“I have trains,” Brett told him.

“Trains?” Tyler frowned, wondering.

“Trains?” Todd repeated, mimicking his brother.

“Brett has an amazing collection of model trains,” Si told them. “And he’s got a few that are kid-friendly size, if I remember correctly.”

“I do.” Brett switched his look from Simon to Haley. “If that’s okay with you, Haley. The boys can hang out with me and the dog....”

“You have a dog?”

“A real dog?”

“Very real.” Brett nodded, serious, but his eyes twinkled down at Haley. “We’ll be right across the street, so you can run over if you get worried or have time on your hands.”

“You live near Charlie and LuAnn’s store?”

Simon coughed.

Brett sent him a look, then hiked up the shoulder that wasn’t holding Todd. “It’s actually my store, and yes, I live in the house behind it.”

“Really?” If that was true, why hadn’t she run into him before Thanksgiving?

He rolled his eyes toward Simon. “I do believe that’s what I said. Come on.” He headed toward the stairs. “Let’s grab some coffee, feed these guys one of Seb Walker’s doughnuts and get you to work. Then the boys and I can have some fun.”

She shouldn’t, should she? Was this the height of irresponsibility to leave two little boys with a virtual stranger?

Trust your heart. Go with your instincts.

She was good at that professionally, but this wasn’t a business proposition. These were her brother’s boys, now her own little ones. One look at the integrity in Brett’s strong, rugged face put her fears to rest. Something in his bearing said she could trust him with anything. Anytime. And that was the nicest feeling she’d had in years.

He read her hesitation and waited her out, no tempting. No cajoling. She appreciated the honor that took, so she nodded, grabbed Tyler’s hand and moved downstairs. “That would be lovely, Brett.”

She glanced over her shoulder and read the smile he sent for her. Just for her. And suddenly her crazy day melted away into something simpler. Sweeter. She could go to work and not worry about the boys.

Her bank loan?

There was nothing to do about that until tomorrow, so today she’d work with the peace of mind that the boys were well-cared for. And the fact that she’d get to see Brett again later, when she picked up the boys?

Only made the day that much brighter.

Chapter Five

Football, napping boys and trains.

Only one thing could make this afternoon better, Brett decided as the boys snuggled along his dog Derringer’s tawny-red wide flank, and she knocked on the door about five-fifteen, the cold rain beating a relentless rhythm against the flagstone walk. Brett hurried to the door, knowing Haley was getting soaked on the open stoop. “Get in here. It’s pouring.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” She shook damp tendrils out of her face as she pushed back the Christmas-toned knit scarf. “Who’d have thought you could get this wet running from the car?”

“Here.” He lobbed a towel her way, then hooked a thumb left. “Come this way, but be quiet.”

“Because?”

He didn’t answer. If he told her why he wanted her to follow him, she’d offer some form of protest. Better to have the upper hand, he decided. Ward off the argument. She came up behind him and he shifted to the right to allow her a better vantage point.

Her face softened. Her mouth formed a perfect O, the soft lips looking sweet and inviting, which almost made Brett feel guilty about setting a perfect scene, but he’d been straight-up army for a long time. Tactical precision was a specialty.

“How sweet.”

“Yup.”

“And the dog...”

“Derringer.”

“Oh, Brett.” She hugged his arm and this time he didn’t resist the temptation to slip an arm around her shoulders. Gaze down into her face. Wonder what it would be like to touch his mouth to hers. “They look so peaceful.”

“A shame to wake them.”

She smiled up at him, and the glance to his mouth told him she was pondering a similar course of action. It would take seconds to find out. A space of mere inches to test the waters...

“I wuv this dog, Brett.”

Todd’s voice interrupted the moment but didn’t detract from the sweetness. He sat up, fisted his sleepy eyes and then rubbed a generous spot on the coonhound’s side. “He’s the best dog ever.”

“He is.” Brett offered Haley’s shoulder a little squeeze that said “next time.” He moved across the room and squatted. He stroked the dog’s neck, turned and smiled up at Haley. “He used to be Charlie and LuAnn’s. They moved to a place with less upkeep but the old boy was too big for the community rules. I took him in and that way LuAnn’s with him most of the time.”

“He’s beautiful.” She crossed the room and bent low to pet the dog. She smelled of cinnamon and evergreen, a delicious combination, the scents drawing him in as if her effusive personality and good looks weren’t enough.

She’s beginning her life. You’ve seen half of yours and messed up a good share of that. Leave her be.

He should. He knew that. But when she slanted a look his way, a look that brought her cheek dangerously close, he had to reach out. Brush tendrils of hair back behind her ear. See if the soft skin of her cheek was velvet or satin.

A little of both, he decided, smiling at her.

The dog rolled, pawed the air, groaned and woke Tyler with his movement.

“Oh, that’s funny!” Todd fell down laughing at the sight of the big dog groaning in his sleep as Tyler slid off to the left.

“Ouch.”

Brett reached out an arm to Tyler, scooped him up and rubbed the spot that landed on the rug. “Rough way to wake up, huh? Did you have a good nap?”

“I don’t take naps.”

“As a rule.” Brett carried him into the kitchen and set him on the counter. He examined Tyler’s head and stepped back. “I don’t think it needs ice, do you?”

The boy contemplated the question, then shrugged. “Naw. And Derringer didn’t mean to do it.”

“No.”

“He was just rolling over, right?”

“Right.”

“And he likes kids.”

“Hasn’t eaten one yet.” Brett offered that response with an easy grin.

Tyler replied in kind. “But the day ain’t over.”

“You’re learning, kid. Hey, how about you and Todd set the table so we can have some supper?”

“Oh, Brett, thank you, but—” Haley offered the protest, but he’d already figured out she didn’t accept help easily and that probably had a story behind it. Well, who didn’t have a story? Considering her current circumstances, he was determined to help because it was advantageous to her and...

If he was being honest with himself...

Just being with her felt good to him. End of discussion.

“No buts.” He flashed an over-the-shoulder smile her way, but didn’t pretend he’d take no for an answer. The boys had to eat and so did she, even if resistance was her first line of defense. For an established soldier like him, it wasn’t much of a battle. “If your entrepreneurial nature must be kept busy 24/7, then help the boys set the table. Plates are there.” He shifted his chin up and to the left. “Silverware in the drawer next to the sink. And cups are above the plates.”

“But—”

He sent her a look that quashed her protest much like it had with troops at home and abroad, and decided that look might come in handy. Or maybe he hoped it would come in handy. Either way, her response was to help the boys while he poured pasta into a pot of salted, boiling water.

“You cooked for us?”

“Way easier than cooking for a legion of troops.” He handed her a loaf of crusty bread from the deli area of the store. “And I did that often enough as I worked my way up the ranks.”

“You served.”

“Twenty-five years.”

“Army?”

“Yup.”

“Wow.” She turned and stared straight at him, and a part of him hoped the surprise wasn’t because that made him seem really old. Because no way did he want her thinking he was too old. Or off his game. Which was ridiculous because he was both, but right now, here, with her, he didn’t want to be.

She stepped his way and lay a cool, slim hand against his cheek. “Thank you for doing that.”

“I was young when I signed up.”

His words made her flash him a knowing smile. Kind of flirty. And fun.

“Real young.” He added the qualifier in a deep, rugged tone, driving his point home. It worked. She grinned.

“Barely out of diapers, no doubt.”

“Well.” He hedged that one slightly. “Barely old enough to drive, at any rate.”

“So I shouldn’t think of you as old,” she mused aloud as she set out silverware. “Just seasoned.”

“Exactly.”

“Or aged, like vintage wine.”

“I like seasoned better.”

“So do I.” She turned and met his look full on and he realized right there and then that his age meant little to her and that felt good. “My mother used to say I was like a little old woman, old before my time.”

“Was that a compliment?”

The look she sent him said more than the word. “No.”

“Ah.” He brought over a big bowl of red sauce and meatballs, but decided they’d share stories another time. Maybe. “Luckily I like mature women.”

She laughed out loud.

He liked that she let herself react to a given situation. She didn’t mince words or pretend, she reacted, and while these days that wasn’t considered socially advantageous, he found her spontaneity contagious. And inspiring.

“I’m so hungry.” Tyler sucked in a deep breath of sauce-scented air. “Brett, I think you’re a really good cooker.”

“Well, thank you.” He pulled out a chair for Haley and that simple, gentlemanly gesture delighted her. He read it in her face, her smile, her eyes. Her look of pleasure made him feel taller. Broader. Nicer.

And somewhat adolescent.

He helped Todd settle himself into the chair, then drained the pasta into a strainer too small to hold the whole pot.

“Not exactly accustomed to cooking for a crew, huh?”

He shot Haley a grin. “As you’ll note by the mismatched plates and silverware, LuAnn outfitted me with whatever leftover spoils she had in her kitchen. When you’re on your own, it doesn’t make sense to spend money on things. If I’m eating alone, I can pick any plate I want and it doesn’t need to match anything else.”

“Matching is overrated,” she assured him as she held up her fork and her knife.

“Good girl.”

She preened his way and he had to stop himself from reaching out. Touching her. Damp tendrils of hair were drying in the heat of the small kitchen, leaving curls in their wake, and the sight of those curls made him wonder what it might be like to have a little girl some day, a tiny girl with a head full of blond ringlets. And because he’d never in his life entertained thoughts like this, the fear might have overwhelmed the enticement of home, family and forever if she hadn’t held his gaze with the warm, open smile that was simply Haley Jennings. But she did and he felt like a superhero as a result.

“I love sketti.” Todd started to dive into the bowl of pasta before him, but Haley held up a hand of caution.

“Grace first.”

“Aww...”

“Do we—”

Brett solved the objections by taking Tyler’s hand on one side and folding Haley’s into his on the other. Soft, slim and tapered, her fingers fit as if meant to be tucked inside his bigger, broader hands. Once they’d completed the circle he offered a quick grace, pretty sure starving boys wouldn’t sit still for a longer version.

“Nice timing.” Haley confirmed his decision with a quick glance toward Todd. He was busily scooping bow-shaped pasta as fast as his spoon allowed.

“Makes me glad I didn’t pick real spaghetti.” Brett indicated Todd with his look. “Although that would be a camera-ready event, I expect.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She took another forkful of pasta and meatballs and sighed. “Brett, thank you for this. And for last night. And for just being you.”

Brett shrugged off her thanks. “None needed. Had to welcome our two little guys, didn’t I?”

Her quick smile lit up a dusk-filled corner of his heart. Maybe his soul. Although he wasn’t sure he had one anymore. Not that he wasn’t a praying man. No one faced the enemy as often or as steadfastly as the United States Army, and that made a man take mortality seriously. And God more so.

But while God had kept him safe from harm, his love of the military inspired two people to enlist. Both had lost their lives. Not God’s fault. Not the army’s fault either. But he should have known better. As the older brother of one and the father of the other, he bore the weight of both.

“You look tired.” Haley’s blue eyes softened, then crinkled in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Missed some sleep last night. Nothing strange about that.”

“There was no fire call last night.”

He sent her a look that wondered where she got the information and drawled out his response. “True.”

“I know that because Lisa Fitzgerald has a Christmas greens store in the co-op and I asked her about you. Because that’s what girls do,” she explained, smiling. “Who needs Google when we’ve got small-town backyard gossip?” She ignored his little groan, ate another spoonful, then went on. “The Ladies’ Auxiliary teams up with Lisa for all kinds of things. Weed stealing. Pink parties. Flower sales.”

“So you were on an info mission?” He tipped a grin her way. “Find out anything that put you off? Although Lisa actually likes me because I let her use the corner spot to sell flowers in season and that way she has both sides of town covered for the interstate access. And that weed-stealing crew is nothing to mess with. You can’t find a better bunch of people who get the job done, no muss, no fuss. But I still find it noteworthy that I became the topic of conversation, Haley.”

She smiled as if talking about him meant something. But in a small town, everyone talked about everyone. Except him. Which made this concept intriguing because women could ferret out covert information faster than Fort Bragg’s finest.

“We were just talking and your name came up.”

“Because?”

Her deepening flush inspired his grin and Brett had a hard time remembering the last time he grinned at a pretty girl on purpose. He’d kept himself off the beaten path since retiring from the army, and in spite of no small number of casseroles, brownies and invites finding their way to his door, he’d managed to stay beneath the radar.

Currently being in the radar’s scope didn’t seem all that bad. But the very thought of her being interested in a crusty curmudgeon like him bordered on ludicrous. Crazy, even. At least highly unlikely.

One glance into her sparkling eyes said it might not be all that implausible.

That’s lack of sleep talking. You’re old, she’s young. You’re hardened, she’s ingenuous. You could use a shower and a shave and she’s, well...beautiful. Sweet. Clean. Fresh.

All reasons enough to steer clear of Haley Jennings and her two protégés. He had plenty on his plate right now. More than enough. His business. His current task as fire code inspector. His work as a volunteer fireman. His ongoing problems with his mother.

That reality darkened his mind and the thought must have shaded his face because Haley leaned over, concerned. “I am grateful, Brett. For your kindness and your time. Your generosity last night, even though I thought you were pretty handy at giving away Charlie’s stuff.”

He grinned and shrugged. “No big deal, Haley.”

“It was to me.” She lay her hand over his and held his gaze. “It was the light I needed in a convoluted day.”

Her words touched him. Coupled with the soft grasp of her fingers against the back of his hand, warm emotion multiplied by a factor of at least eight. He stowed the emotion and tipped his gaze.

He longed to be a light in someone’s day, but hadn’t realized it until Haley slipped into his life on a cloudy, windswept Thanksgiving. He shrugged one shoulder, refusing to make a big deal out of common courtesy. “Then I’m glad.”

He waved off her help after dinner with a look in the boys’ direction. “You’ll have enough to do once you get them home.”

“We don’t have a home.”

Tyler’s words hit their mark. Haley’s face paled. Todd’s lip trembled. And Brett realized how vulnerable these two little fellows were right now, so he bent low and drew Tyler up into his arms. “It feels like that now, Ty. But give it time, okay?” He headbutted the little boy gently. “We’ll give it time together and we’ll play and pray and eat and have fun and after a while it will feel more like home. I promise.”

The boy’s face said he longed to believe but didn’t dare, and Brett understood his reluctance. When dreams get knocked down regularly, it’s hard to grasp hold. But Tyler was young. They’d convince him.

Haley reached out a gentle, practical hand. “You’re right, Brett.” She palmed Tyler’s cheek and smiled. “‘To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven.’” She stretched up and whisked butterfly kisses along Tyler’s cheek. “Time helps, Ty.”

The little guy didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t look combative either and that was a step up. Brett walked Tyler out to Haley’s car. The rain had let up slightly, but the steady drizzle was still enough to soak his sweatshirt while Ty and Todd got buckled.

“Thank you, Brett.”

The smile she sent him over the hood of the car said more, but Tyler’s words made him realize they needed to ease their way because these boys had already lost so much. He waved and backstepped his way toward the house behind him. “Get in. Get home. Dry off. Again.”

She ducked into the car, put it in reverse and backed out of his drive, but he took sweet comfort in the fact that she traveled only four hundred feet down the road before turning into the back entrance of Bennington Station. Knowing she was this close? That he could be of help at a moment’s notice?

He liked that proximity. A lot.