His Mistletoe Family

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.”