Kitabı oku: «Christmas Gifts: Small Town Christmas / Her Christmas Cowboy»

Praise for Gail Gaymer Martin

“Gail Gaymer Martin has certainly mastered the art

of creating romantic tension between characters.”

—Carly Kendall, www.carlybirdshome.blogspot.com,

on A Dad of His Own

“A fun read with a serious side.”

—RT Book Reviews on Bride in Training

“Faith, hope, love and forgiveness all play a role

in this terrifically warm, endearing tale.”

—RT Book Reviews on Family in His Heart

Praise for Brenda Minton

“A lovely romance where the characters’

acceptance of God’s plans surprisingly

brings them their hearts’ desires.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Cowboy’s Family

“A satisfyingly emotional story.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Cowboy’s Courtship

“Brenda Minton excels at showing readers deep

and intense emotions. This is a powerful story of …

recognizing what is truly important in life.”

—Debbie Wiley, www.bookilluminations.com,

on Jenna’s Cowboy Hero

Christmas Gifts

Small Town Christmas

Gail Gaymer Martin

Her Christmas Cowboy

Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Small Town Christmas

Gail Gaymer Martin

Dear Reader,

The wonder of Christmas captures everyone—children and adults. Families enjoy their special holiday traditions, yet for some, traditions fade as they did for Mike following his wife’s death. The death of loved ones seems harder to bear at Christmas. Yet we rejoice because we know they are waiting for us one day. And as Mike said to the twins, love is endless, and even though he and the girls had lost a wife and mother, love opens doors again to new experiences and new relationships. Amy opened a door for Mike and his girls. God hears our prayers and knows our hearts. He provides not only at Christmas, but also every day of our lives.

I hope you enjoyed meeting Amy, Mike, Grams and the twins, who learned to show their love again. I also hope you enjoyed the people of Harrisville, a real small town in northern Michigan.

May your Christmas be blessed, and may you allow the Lord to open doors of love and hope for you this Christmas and always.

Thanks to Love Inspired Books Senior Editor, Melissa Endlich, who invited me to participate in this special two-in-one Christmas novel. Many thanks to the wonderful people I met while visiting the real town of Harrisville. Thanks to the principal of Alcona Elementary School, Mrs. Sharon Fairchild, and her staff, including a second-grade teacher. To Manny Pompa, owner of the Flour Garden, who provided me with information about the Christmas tree lighting event and Christmas in the Village. To Judy Labadie with the Harrisville Chamber of Commerce, who answered many of my questions in person and via the telephone. To Carol Luck, head librarian at the Alcona County Library in Harrisville, and to Deidre Gray, owner of Maggies On Main, who fielded many questions or guided me to someone who knew the answer. As always, my love and thanks to my husband, Bob, who stands by me even with my last-minute research plans.

You have made known to me the paths of life;

you will fill me with joy in your presence.

—Acts 2:28

Chapter One

“You do understand that this is only temporary?”

Amy Carroll jerked her eyes away from the fall scene outside the window and gazed at the Alcona Elementary School principal. “Yes, I understand, Mrs. Fredericks. My grandmother told me the situation when she called.” Grams seemed to know everything in the small town. “Temporary is fine. I lived in Chicago for five years, and I would miss the hustle and bustle being gone too long. I’d love to be called back, but I don’t expect it to happen.”

“Don’t give up hope. You might be.”

The finality washed over her. “They’ve closed a number of schools in the Chicago area, including the one where I taught. My only option would be finding a position somewhere outside the city.”

Mrs. Fredericks smacked her hands together. “Whatever happens, this works well for us. You have excellent credentials, and I’m pleased you’ll be joining our staff on Monday to finish out the school year.” She closed the file folder, slipped it into her desk tray and rolled back in her chair. “Welcome to Alcona Elementary.” She rose and extended her hand. “The secretary will give you what you need—a school calendar, your textbooks and a lesson planning guide. You’ve taught second grade before, so it’s perfect.”

Amy stood and grasped her hand. “It is, and thanks so much.” She gave a firm shake and stepped toward the door. “I look forward to—”

“Mrs. Fredericks.” The office secretary leaned into the room. “Mr. Russet—you know, the twins’ father—is waiting to see you.”

“The twins. Yes.” A heavy sigh whisked the air as the principal’s shoulders slumped. “You can …” She paused and eyed Amy. “Ask him to wait just a moment.”

Amy took another step toward the door, anxious to retreat.

“Please wait a moment, Miss Carroll.”

Amy jerked to a halt.

“The twins will be in your class next week.”

“Really?” Amy tried to keep a smile on her face.

Mrs. Fredericks nodded. “It might help you to meet the girls. They have a propensity for getting into trouble. Earlier this week, Holly tripped Ivy while she was jumping rope.”

Amy struggled to keep her eyebrows from arching. “Is this common?”

“I’m afraid so. It’s their typical behavior, and as always, Holly insisted it was only an accident.”

“Could it have been?” She liked to give children the benefit of the doubt in such situations.

“Not usually, but I think sometimes Ivy sets up the situation. Almost feeds Holly the ideas. Their teacher hasn’t put her finger on the trouble. Maybe you can.”

Maybe you can. Amy managed to keep her composure. The pressure didn’t set well, although the comment appeared to be a compliment. But what if she failed?

“I’d like you to meet them. They’re right across the hall in the cafeteria. It might help you prepare for Monday.”

A niggling sense of worry settled over Amy. “I suppose that would be … practical.”

“Plus you can keep an eye on them while I talk with their father.” Mrs. Fredericks chuckled and motioned her to follow. “Let me introduce you.”

Amy followed Mrs. Fredericks through the doorway. Across the hall, she spotted the girls seated on each side of the cafeteria benches, cuter and sweeter looking than her perception. Although not identical twins, their features were similar. Their bright blue eyes, like the Caribbean sea, widened when they saw the principal.

The child with a tawny-colored ponytail swung her legs over the bench. “It wasn’t me, Mrs. Fredericks.”

“Yes, it was.” The blonder twin slipped from her seat, her hair gathered into a ponytail on each side of her head. “Mrs. Fredericks, Holly tore up my drawing in art class.”

“I know. Please sit for a moment.” Holly gestured to the benches. “I want you to meet someone.”

Their heads turned and they scrutinized Amy before eyeing each other, a hint of fear quickly covered by determination.

Amy’s heart squeezed.

“Miss Carroll, this young lady is Holly.” She rested her hand on the one with honey-brown hair and the deep frown. “And this is Ivy.”

Ivy gazed at her, curiosity written on her face.

Amy stepped closer. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Neither responded.

Mrs. Fredericks eyed them. “Miss Carroll will be your new teacher, starting Monday.”

“New teacher?” Holly’s ponytail flipped as she swiveled toward Amy.

“Remember?” Mrs. Fredericks leaned forward, resting her palms on the table. “Mrs. Larch is expecting a baby soon, so she’s taking a leave.”

Their intent expression flickered as their glances collided. “She told us.” Their responses blended in agreement.

“Good. Now I’ll leave you with Miss Carroll, and you can have a nice talk.” She turned to Amy. “I’ll be back shortly.” Mrs. Fredericks offered a pleasant grin, then strode toward the door. Before she exited she glanced over her shoulder. “When I return, I’ll introduce you to the girls’ father. I’m sure you’d like that.”

“Our dad?” two voices rang in unison.

Amy wasn’t so sure she was ready to meet her first parent quite yet, but she clenched her teeth and agreed. When she looked at the twins, they were peering at her again, Holly with her arms crossed at her chest and Ivy with one fist jammed into her waist.

Amy pulled her gaze upward, reading the signs written in large black letters that hung above the tables. Citizenship. Responsibility. Apparently, the twins hadn’t read them. She bit the inside of her lip. Every year she’d met children and their parents, but today the meeting seemed more like confrontation.

“Why are you here?”

Holly’s blunt question grabbed Amy’s attention. She held back a grin. That’s the question she’d planned to ask them. Instead she slipped around the end of the bench and sat at the table. Both girls scrutinized her before they settled down again, their query still hanging on the air.

“I came to pick up the textbooks used in your class,” she answered simply. Getting to know the two girls better seemed more important than showing her authority. Still, behind those sweet faces, Amy sensed that some kind of unhappiness or hurt was dredging up their troublesome behavior. She looked from one girl to the other. “I think the more important question is what are you doing here?” She swung her arm toward the cafeteria serving counter.

“Mrs. Fredericks made us sit here.”

“Hmm?” Amy tapped her finger against her cheek. “I wonder why? It’s not lunch time.”

Ivy bit her lip. “Kids who misbehave have to sit in here and wait.”

Holly’s frown deepened. “I didn’t do anything bad.”

Ivy rested her palms on the table, pressing her face closer to Holly’s, her look searing through her sister. “You tore up my drawing.”

“But you said it wasn’t any good.”

Ivy fell back to her seat. “If I wanted to tear it up, I would have done it.”

“That’s right, Ivy.” Amy focused on Holly, monitoring her tone. “When something belongs to me, I make decisions about what to do with it. No one else.”

Holly turned her head toward the doorway and tightened her ponytail.

Amy didn’t respond to the child’s behavior. “What kind of pictures were you drawing?”

Holly’s head tilted back, as if she wasn’t sure Amy really cared.

Hoping to soothe the tension, Amy grinned. “I’d like to hear about what you do in the classroom because I’ll be your new teacher on Monday.”

Holly’s shoulders relaxed. “We were drawing pictures of pilgrims and Indians for our social studies.”

“Because it’s almost Thanksgiving, right?” Amy gave them a wink.

“Uh-huh, and…” A movement by the door caught her attention.

“Daddy!” Both girls shot from the benches and ran to a harried-looking man who stood inside the doorway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

Amy’s heart gave a twinge. A five o’clock shadow encompassed his lean jaw and his chestnut hair was tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it many times. His eyebrows stretched above his caramel brown eyes, flashing with emotion. She couldn’t tell if he were ready to blow a gasket or just fizzle.

Her question was answered when he released a nervous laugh and rocked on his heels. “You must be Miss Carroll, the new teacher.” He strode toward her. “I’m the girls’ father.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg before extending it to Amy.

Amy met him halfway while the twins hovered at his side. She dropped her palm into his, aware of his warm grip.

“Nice to meet you.” His frustration couldn’t hide behind his pleasant expression.

“Good to meet you, too, Mr. Russet.”

Behind him Mrs. Fredericks watched the scene with seeming interest. “I’ll leave you now. And I’ll see you on Monday, Miss Carroll.” She gave her a wave and vanished.

When she looked back, Amy saw the girls cringe, and her skin prickled. “Your daughters were telling me about their social studies.”

“Social studies? Really?” A grin played on his lips before his gaze dropped to the twins. “You know, girls, we have some serious talking to do.”

The twins lowered their eyes, but in them, she saw consternation. Maybe remorse. Whatever it was, the look caught her attention.

When she looked up, their father was studying her with curiosity. “I’m sure we’ve met.” Amy drew back. “Met? Where?” “At your grandmother’s. Years ago.” She did a double take. “My grandmother’s?” A crooked smile curved his mouth. “Ellie Carroll. Lake Street. Right?”

“Yes, that’s it.” But Amy’s memory drew a blank. “We live on Lake Street, too.” The twins’ voices melded together.

His grin widened. “I thought you’d remember. It was maybe eleven years ago.”

Her face knotted as she tried to recall. “I don’t think so.” Yet something shimmered in the shadow of her mind. “I was only eighteen then, Mr. Russet.”

“I was twenty-three, earning money as a handyman while I looked for a job.” He grinned. “Maybe you remember my first name, Mike?”

Amy gasped in surprise, as the memory came flooding back.

“You’re the guy who dug out Grams’s old shrubbery and planted new ones.” She pictured him in the summer sun, his muscles flexing while his shirt hung on her grandmother’s deer ornament in the tree-sheltered yard.

“The same, except a few pounds heavier and some wrinkles.”

Amy studied his face, seeing only a few worry lines. His unruly hair hadn’t changed. She remembered how it ruffled in the breeze, his lean handsome face taut with concentration. They were young then, and she’d flirted with him. But when she went inside, her grandmother had notified her he was newly married. Heat rose up Amy’s neck at the thought. She hoped he didn’t remember she’d toyed with him. She managed to look at him. “I’ll tell Grams I saw you.” “Gramma Ellie sits with us.” Amy’s head turned toward Ivy. “She does?” “Quite often, actually.” Mike shrugged a shoulder. “She and the girls get on great.”

Even though she tried to listen to what he was saying, her memory kept flashing back to the summer they’d first met. Her chest pressed against her lungs, the same reaction she had that day. But today Grams’s words rang clear, and she knew better. He was married. Amy eyed the doorway, calculating how she might whip past the beguiling man and escape. She came to her senses and checked her watch. “Speaking of Grams, I’d better be on my way. She’s expecting me home, and I don’t want her to worry.”

“Certainly, Miss Carroll.” He stepped aside, his gaze settling on the girls. “I have a couple things to take care of myself.”

“Nice to meet you, Holly and Ivy. I’ll see you on Monday.” Ivy gave a wave, but Holly only sent her a questioning look.

“And nice to meet you … again.” She could only glance at Mike, fearing he would notice he’d flustered her just as he had that day long ago. She hurried through the doorway, wishing Mrs. Russet had been the one to face the principal about the girls.

Discomfort followed her to her car, and after she opened the door, she turned and slammed it closed. Too busy dealing with her memories, she’d forgotten to pick up the textbooks and lesson plan book in the front office.

Quickly darting into the building, Amy gathered the materials from the secretary. Safe outside, she slipped into her hatchback and headed down Highway 72 toward town. She loved working with children, and although she knew the twins might be a problem, she decided to formulate a plan of action. If she had solutions before the problems occurred, she might be able to teach the girls a little about cooperation and getting along. Being an only child, she’d never experienced a sister’s relationship firsthand, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to help the girls with theirs.

Mike’s frustration inched into her mind. He seemed at a loss on how to deal with them, which made her assume the twins’ mother did most of the disciplining. If she talked with Mrs. Russet, perhaps they could decide how best to resolve the twins’ issues.

Reaching Main Street, she stopped at the Local IGA and picked up the groceries her grandmother had asked her to bring home. When she turned down Lake Street, she looked closely at each residence, curious to know which might be the Russets’.

Soon she turned into her grandmother’s driveway, washed by its homey feeling. She’d spent so many summers at Grams’s, listening to her stories and learning how to bake cookies. Her grandmother taught her so many things she’d missed living in Illinois with her dad. And spending Christmas with her grandmother made her smile.

As soon as her car came to a halt in the long driveway, Grams’s face appeared at the kitchen window. Amy waved before lifting the bags and heading inside. “Sorry I’m late. I hope you didn’t need the groceries.”

“No, they’re for tomorrow.”

“Good.” She set the sacks on the kitchen table. “The principal wanted me to meet two sisters who’ll be in my class. They’d gotten into trouble, and—”

“Holly and Ivy.” Her rosy cheeks lifted in a grin. “Am I right?”

Amy chuckled. “You are.” She pulled milk and eggs from the package and set them in the refrigerator. “And I talked with their dad.”

“Poor Mike.” Grams shook her head. “That man has faced the principal more than he did when he was in school, I’m sure.” She lifted the bag of flour. “Those little darlings are so needy, but you’d be surprised how good they are with me.”

“Their dad told me.” Amy tried to picture the girls’ expressions without defiance and questioning looks. “I assume their mother works. I wish she’d been the one—”

Grams shook her head. “Their mother died a few years ago.”

“Died? That’s awful.”

“I think the twins were about four years old. Mike’s raising those girls alone.”

Amy’s heart wrenched. She knew what that was like.

When her own mother ran off without taking her along, her father had tried so hard to be both father and mother for her.

Grams reached over and patted her hand. “I knew you’d understand, but you were always a good girl. Never had an ounce of worry for you.” She shrugged. “Each person’s different.”

Her grandmother’s words didn’t console her. Yes, she’d been good, but it didn’t change how she’d felt. Most girls needed a mom. Even having her precious grandmother couldn’t make up for the loss of a mother. And she’d watched her father suffer and grow distant without realizing how it had affected her. Romance and marriage stuck in her mind like a thorn. Who wanted to get involved in the fickle emotions of love?

Amy folded the grocery bags while Mike’s image stayed in her mind. Twin girls. No wife. A job. Household responsibilities. That wasn’t a life for anyone. As the truth struck her, one of the sacks she’d folded slipped from her hands. She bent to retrieve it, facing the fact that her own life was much too similar to Mike’s, but without children. Work. Errands. A few friends. Not much.

Had Mike been able to overcome the pain of his wife’s death? Her stomach tightened as her gaze drifted to her grandmother. She swallowed the questions. If she asked, Grams would either make something out of her curiosity or warn her off, just as she’d done eleven years ago.

What was the sudden attraction to a widower and two troubled girls? She’d passed up plenty of dates more than once. Just the thought of getting involved with someone made as much sense as living in a small town. She couldn’t do it for an extended time. Not for a million dollars.

Chapter Two

Mike pulled up to his house, priding himself on keeping his cool with the twins while they were still at school. But how much longer could he cope with it? Even though his daughters were precious to him, they were stretching him to the limit.

He turned off the ignition and veiled his frustration. “Inside, girls.” He swung open the door and slammed it, his first action that showed his real feelings.

The girls’ voices whiffled past him as they darted toward the house. He searched for the front door key, but instead of hurrying ahead, he gazed down the street to the large house with the wide stone porch. He couldn’t help but grin despite his stress.

His mind flew back to the day he’d met Amy Carroll. Ellie had spoken about her so often. She’d been a lovely young girl, full of energy and fresh as dew. She’d flirted with him, and when he returned home, he’d told Laura and they’d laughed.

He headed to his porch, but his thoughts clung to Amy. Her long brown hair, the color of ripe chestnuts, hung in a slight wave, and her cinnamon-colored eyes had widened when he’d mentioned their first meeting. Color had spotted her cheeks, letting him know she’d remembered the details of that day.

Bounding up the porch steps, he pulled his attention back to the girls. What would he do with them now? Nothing seemed to work. He stuck the key in the lock and then focused for a moment on each twin.

Ivy leaned against him as she tended to do, but belligerence heightened in Holly’s eyes.

When he pushed the door back, she whipped past him while Ivy lingered, wanting to plead her case, he was sure.

“Daddy, I didn’t do anything. Holly ripped my—”

“I know what happened. Mrs. Fredericks gave me all the details, including a few other incidents that they didn’t call me in for.” He motioned toward her bedroom. “Change your clothes, and we’ll talk.”

She slogged toward her room, her face covered by the wounded look he’d come to know.

He dropped onto a kitchen chair and pressed his face into his hands. He’d made mistakes. He’d spoiled the girls. When their mother died, he’d been lost. But later he was determined to be a father and mother to them. Impossible, he realized now. Instead of guiding them, he’d pampered them and let their misbehavior go unchecked. No more.

His head ached, and he dug his fists into his eyes willing the pain away. When he lifted his head to the sunshine streaming through the window, the throb remained.

The previous teacher, Mrs. Larch, hadn’t been able to control the girls. They’d continued to distract the class. He was exhausted and out of ideas on how best to control his girls. If only Laura hadn’t died, maybe then—He shook his head. Why hadn’t he realized how sick she was?

Regret was useless. If he clung to all of his what-ifs, he would live in the past forever. Moving forward with his life needed to happen now, not only for his sake but for the girls’. He massaged the cords in his neck to ease the tension.

Amy slipped into his mind, bringing him hope. Until she’d noticed him, he’d watched her talking to the girls when he’d crossed the hall to the cafeteria. The twins were listening to her, and even though Holly’s belligerence still marred her pretty face, so like her mother’s, Ivy seemed to hang on to her every word. How had she done it? He slapped the tabletop and rose. That’s what he needed to do. See if Amy could teach him something. Discipline with love. Could he learn to do that?

Mike slipped off his jacket, hung it on the back of a chair and strode to the refrigerator. He poured a slosh of milk and swallowed, still feeling a hungering void.

Noise from the hall caught his attention. He rinsed the glass and set it in the sink while his gaze drifted down the street to Ellie’s tree-filled property. An unfamiliar car sat at the back of the driveway, a sporty hatchback, practical but spirited, with its deep orange color. No doubt Amy had returned home.

“Daddy.”

He turned, startled by Ivy’s voice. The two girls stood beside the table, waiting. “Let’s sit in the living room, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He marched into the room and settled into his recliner. The girls plopped onto the sofa.

“I’m hungry, so don’t take long.”

Holly’s sarcastic tone grated him, but he bit his tongue, unwilling to argue. “I don’t want to know what happened today because Mrs. Fredericks told me. I want to know what we’ll do about it.”

“About what?” Ivy’s wide eyes sent him an innocent gaze.

“About your behavior.” He monitored his tone.

“If Holly wouldn’t tear up my—”

Mike held up his hand to shush her. “This isn’t about a picture or being tripped when you jumped rope or anything else.” He aimed his gaze at Holly. “This has to do with making changes. I’m tired of being called up to school. Do you realize I have to take time off from work to come there and listen to the same old stories about your behavior?”

“But—”

“I want solutions, Holly, not buts.”

Ivy started to titter, and Holly soon followed.

He stared at them and waited for their silliness to end. He’d hoped to reason with them, to find some solutions. Mrs. Fredericks had given him one, and although he’d negated it, the idea might set a fire under the girls.

“Sorry, Daddy, but you said—”

“I know what I said, Ivy. I’m asking for changes. What will they be?”

The two gazed at the floor, their hands in their laps, and said nothing.

“Then I have a solution. Mrs. Fredericks recommends that we split the two of you into different second grade classes.”

“No, Daddy. Please.” Ivy’s volume rose with each word.

His mind reeled. “Why not? I would think you’d be happy.”

She shook her head in high speed. “We need to be together.”

“Why?” His focus shifted from one to the other. “Together isn’t working, so why?” “Because we’re all we got.”

Hearing Ivy knocked him backward. We ‘re all we got. His heart wrenched. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Then you will make some changes in your behavior, or it will be out of my hands.”

A frown crept to their faces.

“Will Mrs. Fredericks make us go to different classes?”

Ivy’s plaintive look stymied him. “If you keep causing problems, then I think she will.”

She shifted toward Holly, who’d said little. “Do you want to go to another class?”

Holly looked away with a faint shake of the head.

Mike remained silent, giving them time to think until both pairs of eyes returned to his. “You have the weekend to make a decision.” And he had the weekend to figure out what to do. “Remember what I said.” He rose. “By the way, Holly, if you’re hungry, eat some fruit. Dinner won’t be for a while yet.”

They popped up and sped from the room while he sat questioning his threat. If they separated during school, would it make a difference? What about their behavior at home? His chest constricted while Ivy’s words rang in this head. We ‘re all we got. He needed to understand what she meant.

The refrigerator door opened, and before it closed, he rose and headed into the kitchen. “If you want to watch TV, you can, but I know you have some homework today. Mrs. Fredericks told me.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?”

Holly’s favorite question rang in his ears. “You’re going to spend part of the day with Gramma Ellie. Do you want to do homework then?”

“No.” Ivy spun on her heel. “I’ll do mine now. I’d rather have fun tomorrow.”

Holly gave it some thought before she followed Ivy toward her room.

Mike headed into the kitchen, pulled out an apple and took a bite. Dinner was more than an hour away, and for once, he had time on his hands.

Leaves drifting past the window caught his eye. He planned to rake them tomorrow, but his body charged with energy. His gaze drifted and he spotted Amy in Ellie’s front yard tugging leaves toward the side lot. Big yard. Big job for a slender woman.

He slipped on his jacket, but before he stepped outside, he ambled to the twins’ bedroom doors. “I’m going out to rake. I’ll be there if you need me.”

A muffled okay came from Ivy’s room. Holly’s was silent. She’d probably fallen asleep.

Mike stepped onto the side porch and grabbed his work gloves and rake, then headed down the steps. But instead of tackling his task, he strode across the street, drawn by the lithe woman whose opinion he valued.

When she spotted him, she stopped and leaned on the rake handle. Her hair shone with streaks of dark gold in the afternoon sun, and her cheeks were rosy with the crisp breeze. “So that’s where you live. The blue-and-white house.”

“Not too far away.”

“It’s cute. I admired it when I passed by earlier.”

“Thanks.” He’d never considered the house cute, as she called it, but it motivated him to turn and take another look. “My wife picked the color. She loved blue.”

Amy’s smile faded. “I’m sorry about your loss. Grams told me.”

He suspected Ellie had. He motioned to the lawn to change the subject. “Let me help you.”

She shook her head. “You have your own leaves to take care of. I can—”

“I’m sure you can, but I’d like to help.” He swung out the rake and gave a tug. The debris tangled in the tines, jerking him to a sudden stop. “Does Ellie … does your grandmother have an old sheet or maybe a tarp? We can make fast work of this if she does.”

“A sheet?”

“We’ll rake the leaves onto it and drag the load to the side. Much easier.”

Her eyebrows arched. “That’s a great idea.” She dropped the rake. “Wish I’d thought of that a half hour ago.”

She darted off as he watched her long legs make short work of the distance. A runner. He could picture her jogging down the streets of Chicago, turning heads as she went. The woman definitely turned his. Even though a tinge of guilt swept past him, he didn’t let it sway his thoughts. Laura had been gone three years, and it had been a long time since he’d really looked at another woman.

Amy waved a white cloth at him as she returned. “Grams said to use this.” She tossed it to him as she approached, a grin growing on her face. “Here’s the deal. You help me, and I’ll come over and help you.”

Normally he wouldn’t consider it, but for the first time in years, he felt like a man instead of just a dad. “Deal.”