Kitabı oku: «His Holiday Heart»

“You have always been safe from me, Spence. You know that, don’t you?” She tossed the ice cream scoop and it landed with a plop in the de-icer bag. “I’m not on the hunt for a husband.”

“You don’t automatically want a sparkling diamond ring?”

“I’m the exception to that rule.” She watched his shoulders visibly relax. Poor Spence. He believed that. He must have a poor opinion of women and marriage. “When I decide to hunt for a husband, I’ll set my sights on a quality man.”

“Are you suggesting I’m not?” He was grinning wide enough to show that hint of a dimple again.

She forgot to feel uncomfortable around him when he smiled like that. “I’m just saying that I’m not looking right now. But as far as quality goes, you’re a good man, Spence. You shouldn’t work so hard to hide it.”

JILLIAN HART

Jillian Hart grew up on her family’s homestead, where she raised cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book and spending quiet evenings at home with her family.

His Holiday Heart
Jillian Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, long-suffering, bearing with one another, and forgiving one another…but above all these things put on love.

—Colossians 3:12-14

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

“I know your secret, mister.”

Spence McKaslin jerked his attention away from the spreadsheets and frowned at his sister, Danielle. She was leaning against the doorjamb to his office with her arms crossed in front of her. Somehow she managed to look kindly and meddling all at once. He frowned. “What secret do you think you know? I don’t have any secrets. I don’t have time for any.”

“Sure. I know you’re a busy man.” She laughed. A loving soul, she always had a smile for everyone these days, especially since her hardship at home was over. Her wedding ring sparkled as she shook her head at him with utmost disapproval. Mischief flashed in her dark eyes, and she gave an eye roll. “You can’t fool me, big brother. I’m on to you.”

“Wow, I’m really worried.” What on earth was she talking about? he wondered. What did she think she knew? It had to be really good, considering the amusement on her face. He didn’t approve of amusement.

Amusement had never helped him. He shoved his chair back and moved a little. His muscles were stiff from sitting in the same position for the past hour or so.

Snow was falling harder outside his office’s corner window, obscuring the buildings across the parking lot and disguising the pavement so it looked like a winter wonderland. He scowled. He didn’t like wonderlands either. “Talk to me about something real. Something that matters. How’s the traffic?”

She flashed him that glimmer of humor. “It’s November, you know that, right? I heard that it’s snowing. This morning it was sunny, and now there’s a surprise winter storm advisory out there. The roads are a mess.”

It was his turn for an eye roll. This is what he got for working with family. Family you couldn’t choose, and they were impossible to order around. Harder to fire. He tried to hide his great affection for Danielle behind a bigger scowl. He had a reputation to protect. “I was asking about the store.”

“I know.” That stubborn cheerfulness didn’t dim one iota. “Spence, you would be an incredibly handsome man if you would just put a smile on your face.”

“Now you’re sounding like Dorrie.” Dorrie was his stepmom and Danielle’s mom. “I’m not falling for that handsome line. I don’t mind looking homely and disagreeable.”

“Sure, you don’t, but the rest of us have to look at you, brother dear.” She gave him a wink, still lighthearted and apparently distracted from the topic of his secret.

Whew. He had only one secret and no one—repeat no one—knew about that. There were days when that secret was so secret that he almost couldn’t remember it himself.

“We haven’t had a customer for the last two hours.” Danielle gave him the look—the mom look she used on her kids. “I’ve counted down the tills, I’m turning over the sign and I’m going home.”

Good thing he was immune to the mom look. “This is my store. We stay open until closing time.”

“I’m driving home while I can still navigate the roads. I sent Kelly home, too.”

“What?” That brought him to his feet. This was his store and Katherine, whom Danielle had replaced as his assistant manager, understood that. He and Dani were still figuring out how to work together. She was still new, but that didn’t mean she could go usurping his authority. “Customers depend on us to be open.”

“Customers are not going to be fighting through the snow to find us on Thanksgiving Eve.” That smile faltered, and it was replaced by something worse—sympathy, maybe even pity. “I know you don’t want to go home. I understand what it’s like to unlock the door and step into an empty house. Remember when Jonas was in the Seattle clinic?”

“I remember.” Remembering made his chest tangle up with a whole lot of feelings he had no interest in feeling. Jonas, his brother-in-law and Dani’s husband, had been shot on a routine traffic stop a year and a half ago, and no one had thought he would recover from his traumatic brain injury. But he was coming along just fine. Grateful, Spence swallowed hard, managing to beat down every emotion. “Go home to your husband and kids. They’re waiting for you. I’ll close up here.”

“I don’t want you staying late.” Her look turned to one of concern. “You’re welcome to drop by for dinner. Jonas is cooking, and he’s gotten pretty good. He’s been watching cooking shows on television. I think he’s doing homemade pizza tonight. It should be tasty.”

Sure, he knew what she was doing, offering him a balm for his loneliness. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d taken her up on it, and he liked the idea of having somewhere to be. He and Jonas could catch a sports show. There were the munchkins—his little niece and nephew—to play with. One thing he liked was Dani’s kids.

But what if he had failed to distract her? What if she really had figured out his secret? Then there was no way he was going to put himself in close proximity to her so she could bring that secret out in the open. He hated to, but he forced out the words. “No, thanks. Maybe another night.”

“Sure. Okay.” Danielle took a step back, and that mischief returned to her eyes. She disappeared into her office for a few minutes, and the next time he saw her she was wearing a black wool coat and had her purse in hand.

“Drive safe,” he called out, going back to his worrying spreadsheets.

“I will. Thanks.” Danielle stopped at his door. “I should tell you that you’re not alone in the store. Lucy came—”

“Lucy?” he interrupted. The spreadsheet numbers rolled right out of his head. His mind went blank. His lungs forgot to suck in air. “Lucy Chapin is here?”

“You don’t have to say that like she’s contagious with the bird flu. She’s signing a shipment of her latest book because I asked her to,” Danielle explained as if that was no big deal.

It was a big deal. His pulse began to thud in his ears. His palms went damp—a sure sign of panic. “Lucy is here right now?”

“She’s in the break room. Are you all right, Spence? You’ve gone beet-red.”

“Just my blood pressure.” Or worse. And in that moment his worst suspicions about Danielle had come true. Not only did she know how he felt about Lucy Chapin but she was leaving him alone with her on purpose. There was no other explanation. “How did you know?”

“Careful observation.” Danielle didn’t even look apologetic as she turned on her heels. “I’m thinking she’ll be done in a few minutes. The least you can do is thank her, and see if she needs anything else.”

“You do it.”

“Sorry. I’ve got to get home. Talking to her would do you good, Spence.” She called over her shoulder and sauntered around the front counter. “Call me, and tell me how it goes.”

He couldn’t see anything other than red. Bright crimson splashed across his field of vision. He put his hands to his face. This was too much. How had she guessed? Danielle was good; he had to give her that. Somehow she had figured out he had a tiny, miniscule, barely nothing at all crush on Lucy Chapin.

Not that you could really even call it a crush. More like a dysfunction of his eyes, which made them always turn toward her whenever they were in the same room. That was all. Nothing more. Nothing serious.

He didn’t believe in love. Not even a little bit. So he got up and closed the door. With any luck, Lucy would finish her signing and leave all on her own without a single word to him. Besides, it wasn’t as if she liked him either. She’d always done her best to steer clear of him.

With any luck, she would avoid him, and his eyes wouldn’t malfunction and glue to her pretty face and gentle smile. Comforted, he bowed his head over his profit ratios and tried to concentrate.

The phone rang. He snatched it up. “Corner Christian Books. How can I help you?”

“Spence?”

Wait. He knew that soft voice, as melodic as lark song. Every defensive shield he had went up around his heart. “Lucy?”

“I’m calling from the break room. Danielle said you were busy in your office, and I didn’t—”

His ears stopped taking incoming information. There was just a haze of static as he digested what she’d said so far. She was calling him from the break room? He shook his head. That was something his younger sister Ava would do—the flaky sister. He adored Ava, but he didn’t trust her with a set of keys to the store. “You’re calling me when you’re what, ten yards away?”

“Sure.” She seemed unfazed by that or at least unable to see that her behavior was, well, quirky. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“By knocking instead of calling?”

She was silent a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was still stubbornly meadowlarkish. “This is just a quick call. I’ve hauled the books back to the storeroom in the boxes, just like they came. I’ll go out the back, and I’ll be out of your way, but I wanted to make sure the alarm wasn’t on. I don’t have the best luck with alarms.”

“No, I haven’t set it yet.”

“But Danielle locked up and turned off the store lights, and so I just wanted to make sure—” She must have felt she had to explain.

He was probably sounding terse again. Well, better that than vulnerable, right? He was grateful for the hard-won shields he’d learned to put up around his heart—around everything. “Fine. I understand. You’re free to go.”

“Great. Thanks.” Surely he’d insulted her, but it didn’t show in her voice. “Have a good evening. Bye.”

The line went dead, but he couldn’t seem to move. Even her voice had a strange effect on him. Her kind alto seemed to circle around in his head, and he wished for one second that he was a different kind of man—one who believed in true love and happy endings and all that make-believe stuff. Because if he could, then at least he wouldn’t be alone. Instead of wishing he’d never see Lucy Chapin again; he would be hoping he could see her again. Talk to her. Take her out to dinner. But he wasn’t that kind of a man.

He was the type of man who went back to his work. To his responsibilities. The store was his parents’. Some thought that meant an easy ride, since he’d walked into this job and his parents weren’t about to find fault with him. But working for his folks meant something different to him. Commitment. Responsibility. Going beyond and doing all he possibly could. It was the least he could do for Dad and Dorrie. He disappointed a lot of people every day, but one thing he would never do was disappoint them.

The phone rang again. Good thing he’d stayed behind. He grabbed the receiver. “Corner Christian Books. How can I help you?”

“Spence?” said a familiar gentle voice. “It’s me again. Lucy.”

Lucy. He grimaced, fighting to keep his mind from going numb. His senses from going to static. To keep the steel around his heart.

“I can see you’re not thrilled I bothered you again,” she went on, apologetically but obviously not sorry enough to hang up and put him out of his misery. “Believe me, I called everyone else I know. The trouble is I don’t know all that many people, at least anyone I can call during a blizzard to come get me.”

“To come get you?” He swallowed hard, grateful his guards were still up. Now he just had to keep them there. “That sounds like car trouble. Won’t it start? I’ll call the auto club. I’ll have someone here immediately.”

“Oh, if only that was the problem. Then it would be easily solved.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The snowplow went by and buried my car. I can’t get it out. I don’t suppose you have a shovel I can borrow.”

“A shovel?” He put a hand to his forehead and started rubbing as if he had a sudden, mammoth headache. “No. Sorry.”

“Okay. Just thought I’d ask.” She could see him across the parking lot. His forehead was still in his hand. There was no missing that grimace of his. She turned away, not wanting to see it. Not wanting to watch him when he thought he was alone. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter. Spence McKaslin was more like the abominable snowman whenever he was around her, which is why she stayed away from him whenever possible. She knew him only in passing; she hardly knew him at all. But she did know that he was very standoffish. She should give him a break and figure out someone to call—like a cab company.

“Sorry to bother you. Goodbye.” She disconnected and pocketed her cell phone. The wind gusted, and she was shivering in her new goose down coat, which was supposed to keep her warm in minus twenty degrees. She was just a little cold. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from clacking together.

Her phone rang. She checked the screen. It was the bookstore. She unclenched her jaw enough to speak. “Spence?”

“Where are you?”

He sure didn’t sound happy. She glanced across the parking lot, and the light in his office was out. Her teeth were chattering again. “I’m on the n-north side of the complex. I p-parked along the street.”

“Why did you do that?”

Take a deep breath, Lucy. It wasn’t his fault that he was the one man who could make her feel, well, less than adequate. “Because I had errands in a few other stores, and I didn’t want to waste gas, so I walked.”

“Why?”

“You’ve heard about the greenhouse effect? How about that walking increases cardiovascular health?”

Total silence.

Great. She took another breath and really wanted the phone call to end. No one—no one—made her more uncomfortable than Spence McKaslin. “Anyway, thanks. Bye.”

“Wait.” He barked out the word like an order.

That annoyed her, too. She didn’t want to be annoyed, but it was almost a reflex when it came to Spence. He was a hard man to like.

“I’m not going to shovel you out with a wind chill of minus twenty and falling, but I will give you a ride home.”

Oh, joy. Beware of getting what you pray for. She’d wanted help, but she hadn’t wanted it in the form of Spence McKaslin. A grizzly bear would be a friendlier commuting buddy. If there was any simpler solution, she would take it hands down. But she’d been outside only a few minutes, and not a single soul had driven by. Everyone was gone from the other stores and shops in the shopping complex and along the opposite street, so she said the fateful words, “That would be great. Thank you.”

Accepting his offer wasn’t the most comfortable idea she’d had in awhile, but it beat standing out in an approaching blizzard.

“I’ll be right there.” He sounded so grim, he could have been accepting an appointment for five consecutive root canals. The line clicked off abruptly.

Her teeth were clacking together again, so she clenched her jaw. The wind cut through her layers of clothing, past her skin and went right into the hollow of her bones. Yikes, she was cold. But headlights flared to life at the back of the row of stores and swept around snowdrifts and parking curbs in her direction.

She was too cold to brace herself, as she always had to whenever she was in the vicinity of Mr. McKaslin. She had a short and unpleasant history with him—the unpleasant outweighed the short. When she’d moved from Portland to Bozeman, she joined a reader’s group to get to know some people and because she loved reading. She had made many friends, Katherine McKaslin Munroe, who’d been the assistant manager but who was now on leave, her sisters Danielle, Ava, Aubrey, Lauren and Rebecca. She had heard about the Gray Stone Church from Katherine, joined and made a new circle of friends. But every time she stepped foot inside the bookstore or spotted him in church, Spence scowled at her, turned his back and acted as if she did not exist.

The ride home ought to be interesting. She wondered if he would even say two words to her. She lived a long way from town. Did she really want to be in Spence’s presence the entire way?

His huge green truck skidded to a halt beside her. The door swung open. The dome light shone down on the big man, looking bigger in his thick winter coat, and seemed to emphasize his frown. He did not seem happy to see her.

He wasn’t going to be happy when he found out where she lived. Maybe having him drive out all that way was too much. She could always stay in a downtown hotel. She stepped up into the truck not too clumsily, considering how she was nearly frozen solid. She collapsed on the seat and pulled the door shut, sprinkling large chunks of snow all over the pristine interior. “Sorry,” she said.

He stared at her without acknowledging her apology. He would be totally handsome if he stopped scowling. He had wide set dark-blue eyes that would put a movie star to shame, high granite cheekbones and a straight blade of a nose. A mouth that might be bracketed by dimples, if he ever actually smiled. He had one of those strong square jaws that spoke of integrity and manliness.

“Where can I take you?” he asked in a baritone devoid of warmth or friendliness.

She felt colder in his truck with the heat blasting almost lukewarm than she’d felt outside in the minus degree windchill. Why did she want things to be different between her and Spence? She never could explain her feelings, why she felt sad whenever he behaved this way toward her. He wasn’t the kind of man she even liked.

But he was a decent man. He was helping her when she really needed help. “Let’s head toward the university.”

“Sure.” He put the truck in gear. “I know you’re cold, but put on your seat belt.”

That almost didn’t come out sounding like an order. Wow, this was going so much better than she expected. If only she wasn’t board-stiff in the seat, she would be able to get the seat belt around the fluff of her inches thick coat.

Take a deep breath, Lucy, she instructed herself. Maybe the problem with Spence McKaslin was that he had always been a total stranger. So what if he had taken care to keep things this way. Maybe this was a God-given opportunity. Maybe her car was snowplowed under several feet of snow for a higher purpose.

She dropped her bag on the floor, latched the buckle and attempted to relax against the seat. The windows were fogged up and before Spence would drive an inch, he switched the heater to defrost and pulled a folded towel from beneath the seat to wipe the glass.

The way Spence leered at her out of the corner of his eye made her feel like a slacker.

“If I reach under my seat, will I find a nifty towel, too?” She asked, wanting to help out.

“No.”

That made her wonder what he kept under the passenger seat. Something sensible, she figured, because this was Spence McKaslin—the man who she’d seen crack a smile once, but it had been short-lived and she had been way across the room from him. Definitely something practical, she decided. Probably an emergency tool kit or a first aid kit. It was unlike the mess of books she had beneath hers, which had slipped beneath the seat one by one after she’d left each of them on the floor.

“Here. If you don’t mind.” He folded the towel over to a dry side and handed it to her.

Talk about scintillating conversation. For once couldn’t a handsome man—even a scowling, bad-tempered handsome man—look at her and say, “You look lovely, Lucy, even with a frozen nose and your eyelashes iced together”?

She took the towel from him. “Sure, I’d be happy to.”

He grunted, nodded once and put the truck in gear. The vehicle rolled forward, and he expertly managed a huge slick of solid ice and turned onto the main road.

He remained silent as she wiped at the foggy glass. He didn’t say, “This is great. We’ve never really had the chance to get to know one another, so let’s do that now. How about a romantic dinner? Maybe some hot tea afterward in front of a roaring fireplace, and we can talk for hours.”

No, he didn’t say anything like that. He stared straight ahead as if he were pretending she wasn’t seated right beside him. He didn’t even sneak a look at her. She knew, because she was watching him. It was as if she didn’t exist to him at all.

Bummer. She wished she could explain what it was about Spence that made her want to like him. It was just her romantic heart, she thought as she folded the towel a final time. The window was clear so she set the towel next to her bag instead of on the leather upholstery. She was a writer for a reason, mostly because this was her life—dull, staid and quiet. If she didn’t have an imagination to spice it up, she’d be lethally bored.

But not even her imagination was strong enough to figure out how to turn Spence’s silence into polite conversation.

So she contented herself with watching the windshield wipers swipe from side to side and the huge snowflakes evading them.