His Mistletoe Family Page 2

  “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 h
e 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.