Her mother had asked her to keep them. She wouldn’t go back on her promise. When she’d come back from work one late July day to find her studio apartment ripped apart, she’d immediately suspected her uncle, taken the money she had on her and gotten on the train. Who knew what her uncle was capable of in his greed or worse, hatred?
Jessica was convinced that through hard work and honesty, she could make a life for herself without having to sell the items that had meant the world to her late mother.
“I’m going to go clean up, Mom,” Ben said, dragging Jessica from her thoughts. He turned to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said.
Ben laughed again. “She speaks!” he shouted over his shoulder as he thundered up the stairs.
Jessica turned to Ellie to see the woman beaming after her son as if Christmas truly had come early. Her heart ached at the tenderness between mother and child, and she felt the stab of her own loss in a way she hadn’t since the crash had taken her parents from her.
“It must be so nice to have him home,” she offered, talking to fight back the tears.
“You have no idea,” Ellie said, grabbing her rolling pin from the hook above the sink. “We haven’t seen him since he left three years ago. Heck, we’ve barely even heard from him.”
Jessica tried to hide her surprise. “Aren’t you hurt about that?”
Dough slapped on the counter, and Ellie shook her head.
“No, child, not at all. He’s back now, isn’t he? That’s what’s important.”
Jessica rummaged in the lower cabinets for the baking tins they’d need for the pies. “Do you think he’s in trouble?” Her voice echoed in the small space.
Ellie was shaking her head as Jessica righted herself. “I don’t rightly know,” Ellie said. “Probably. He’s got that sheepish look about him, doesn’t he? And he didn’t say a word about the life that’s kept him so busy. He was going to rule New York, you know. Had an idea that would revolutionize the stock market, he said. He’d take it global. Be unstoppable. But so far as I know, the stock exchange is the same as it ever was, and my boy is upstairs in Sauk Centre, Minnesota.”
“And you’re just going to pick up the pieces?”
Ellie gave her a sidelong glance. “Wouldn’t you?”
Silence stretched as Jessica mulled over the question. She moved over to the bowl on the counter to stir peaches for the pie filling. Finally, she nodded. “I suppose I would. Somebody has to, right?”
The older woman smiled. “Thankfully, it’s not your job, young Miss Jessica. You’re at the age where someone will pick up the pieces for you.”
Unexpected tears sprang to the surface, and Jessica turned quickly to swipe them away. “It’s not that easy for all of us,” she said, trying to keep her voice light, “but I’m really happy that it
is
that easy for some.”
Just then, the front door creaked open and a blast of cold air bit at them from across the house. Ellie gave Jessica a floury pat on the shoulder.
“Harold’s home,” she said then looked Jessica right in the eyes. “That means our entire family, all four of us, are together now.”
Jessica hugged the woman impulsively. “Thank you,” she whispered.
* * * *
Ben inhaled the steam as he stepped into the recently used bathroom. What a vision his parents had procured. And as a farmhand? That girl should be royalty. Her crimson hair curling around her face where the tie couldn’t hold it back, her delicate features and little snub nose, the way she held herself—they all spoke to good breeding and wealth. And her eyes, a vibrant emerald that nearly held him hypnotized.
He saw from her hands she wasn’t accustomed to life on the farm and from her sweater and posture she had style and grace. His mother had said from the girl was from Boston but she never talked about home. Ellie had been warning him not to broach the subjects during his father’s arrival and their homecoming dinner, but Ben didn’t know if he could hold back. He wanted to know everything he could about the beautiful creature helping his mother cook downstairs.
He’d had a lot of girls in the city, especially in the beginning when he was so confident he’d spent loosely, out to impress. Fancy dinners, investor meetings, penthouse suites…Ben had done the whole thing. On his own dime. A dime he didn’t even have yet and now probably never would.
But none of the wealthy blondes or brunettes had called to him the way this girl was after only a brief meeting. She had an innocence about her, tied to a protective barrier he couldn’t quite make heads or tails of. He got the impression she wasn’t in Minnesota because she liked the weather. Her accent was fully Massachusetts. He wondered what had brought her all the way out here.
He folded a towel around his powerful hips and went out into the small hallway. From habit, he headed for his old room. And he ran straight into Jessica. The girl had just been coming upstairs, and Ben reached out his arms, grasping her to stop her from falling backward. The feel of her soft sweater on his naked skin sent goose bumps down his spine, and he felt an unwelcome arousal creeping up beneath the towel.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a bit breathless. “I almost killed you.”
She looked up at him, those soulful eyes capturing his own and not letting go. As they stood there, a crazy impulse swamped Ben and before he could stop himself, he drew the girl against his chest. She gave no resistance, just a soft whimper of surprise. Her head rested on his damp shoulder. She smelled of cookie dough, the old farmhouse and everything he loved. His heart rate quickened, and he dropped his arms, allowing her to step back.
She glanced at him again, under her long fiery lashes, before moving past him, holding up the bundle in her hands. “I was just going to replace the linens.”
She closed the bathroom door behind her before he could respond.
Chapter Two
When Jessica returned downstairs, Ben was waiting for her, his hand on the banister. He was dressed in a black button-up and tight European-style jeans. He’d combed back his black hair, and it stayed that way because it was still wet. He looked sleek and sure of himself, a lazy smile on his bow-shaped lips.
“My lady, the parents of the house request our presence at the dinner table.” He swooped out his arm with a flourish, twirling his hand and taking a mock bow.
She giggled and slipped her fingers into his palm, her nerves tingling at the touch. He led her to the dining room, rubbing the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb. Every muscle in her body tightened at his movements.
“A true family dinner?”
Ben stopped and turned her toward him. “Is there any other way?” he asked.
Jessica thought about it. She was an only child, and before her parents had died, they’d treated the Christmas holiday like any other time. Sure, on the day itself, there had been presents, maybe a few carols, but certainly no special dinners. No visiting with relatives, either. That had been completely out of the question. Her father didn’t have any family, and while her mother had a brother who lived a half hour away, just outside Boston, they didn’t speak. Even the mention of Uncle Travis’ name had put her mother in a huff. Jessica had learned early on that she would never meet her family, that she shouldn’t want to. She only knew she had some young cousins from the note Travis had written her after the funeral. Whatever had happened in those years before Jessica had been born, it was unforgivable.
A throat cleared from the other room, and Jessica found Harold staring at them from his spot at the head of the table. She felt sure he would reprimand them for stalling until the stern lines of his face softened into a smile.
“It’s time to eat,” he said gently, “but before you head over here, look up.”
Hanging above their head was a sprig of white berries and dark green leaves, tied to a hook on a string.
“The mistletoe?” she asked.
Harold nodded. Strong arms drew her close. Of all the ways she could have spent the Christmas season, she’d never imagined she’d be in the arms of a dark, handsome stranger, sharing a kiss.
Ben lowered his mouth to hers slowly, stretching her anticipation to its limit. With his lips almost to hers, he whispered, “Is this okay?”
She answered by closing the gap between them, pressing her mouth to his. The firm warmth of him tasted of nutmeg and wine, and the touch left her dizzy. Ben’s hands tightened around her lower back, and she felt a coiling pressure deep in her belly. He released her far too soon, and her senses swirled.
“Thank you,” she said then immediately cursed her silly statement.
Ben laughed. “No,” he said, “thank you. This is turning out to be the merriest Christmas I’ve ever had.”
* * * *
“So, are you back for good?” Harold asked him as they cut into their meals.
“I’m definitely back for a while,” Ben said, looking at his father. “If that’s okay.”
“More than okay,” his mother almost sang. “We missed you so much!”
“Well, we’ve had Jessica to help us,” Harold reminded her gently. Jessica smiled tightly at them in reply. “I just hope there’s enough food to feed everyone through the winter, and enough oil to keep them warm.” His face took on a tired look as he uttered the words.
“Your kindness to me has been unimaginable these past four months,” she offered. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
Harold laughed, breaking out of the somber mood. “Your work here has been a hundred times more thorough than Ben’s ever was. Plus, you make a mean peach pie. He can’t even make a mud pie!”
“Hey!” Ben jokingly protested as the table erupted in laughter.
The sounds of the silverware tapping on plates took over as they each ate their fill.
Ben watched Jessica from across the table. She ate sparingly, obviously lost in thought. Her attempts to remain part of the conversation were valiant, but he could tell she felt as if she were an uninvited guest at a family dinner. He knew it was his fault she felt that way. Had he not shown up, the three of them would be eating and celebrating together as a family unit. It wasn’t right that his arrival had interrupted that. With his parents fawning over him as if he were the prodigal son, of course, Jessica would feel the odd one out.
He noticed her fingering something around her neck. In an effort to involve her, he asked her about it. When her fingers fell back to her plate and her eyes rested on his nervously, he felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. Rings. Wedding rings. Well, there went his Christmas plans.
“Oh,” he said, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. “You’re married. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Her laughter took him by surprise. The sad quality to it broke his heart, and he didn’t even know why.
“Married? No. These were my mother’s. She and my dad died in a care accident last year, and I was left with express instructions to keep them safe. It’s turning out to be a bit more difficult than one would think.”
“So sorry for your loss,” Ben murmured, reaching across the table to touch her hand.
“That’s the most you’ve ever told us about yourself,” Ellie bubbled, trying to lighten the mood. “And here we thought you were in witness protection or something.”
Jessica shook her head, which loosened the tie around her hair, causing the copper ringlets to spring forward. She brushed them back to no avail.
“Oh, no, nothing so daring. Right before I left, someone wrecked my apartment. I assume it was my uncle looking for the rings. When I got there and saw my stuff everywhere, I just took off. I’d been looking for a change anyway. There’s nothing in Boston to keep me there, and it was lonely after my parents passed. Everything there reminded me of them. It was as if I were stuck in slow motion, day in and day out. The apartment thing just gave me the push I needed to make a move.” She straightened her shoulders and gave them a small smile. “I’m glad I did it.”
“Your uncle ransacked your apartment?”
“Well,” she hedged, “I thought so. Now, I’m not so sure.”
Ellie reached around the square table’s corner and patted her arm. “That’s a pretty big accusation. I’m glad you’re rethinking it. Have you talked to him at all?”
Jessica shook her head. “I’ve never talked to him. We’re estranged. He wrote me a note after my parents passed and mentioned the rings. Said he needed the money from them. It wasn’t threatening or anything, just really odd. Who could bring up money at a time like that? And like I said, I don’t even know him. So, yeah, it could have been him. But I never checked into it.” She frowned briefly before brightening. “Everything here is so much simpler, so much nicer.”
“Oh, we’ve got our problems, child,” Harold said. “Like this one.” He punched Ben lightly in the shoulder. “He’s got some explaining to do about why he thought it was okay to just abandon us here without so much as a ‘hello, how are you’ for months at a time.”
“I’m sorry about that, Dad—”
Harold held up his hand, cutting him off. “But now is not the time for that. Now is a time of celebration. Family is one of life’s greatest joys and shouldn’t be tarnished. You know we love you, son.”
Ben nodded and shot a glance at Jessica. Her pale skin brought out the natural pink of her lips—lips that just minutes ago were kissing his own. The ease in which he could picture her as part of their family frightened him. He’d only just met her. Was there such a thing as love at first sight, after all?
She seemed so strong for all her fear, so capable in spite of her troubles. Sure, she’d run away from them, but hadn’t he done that as well? The only difference between them was that she was succeeding where he had failed. She was making a new life for herself from scratch, with no support, no money and nothing but hope and faith in herself.
* * * *
The sky was inky black when Jessica awoke at four a.m. to head to the barn. Harold had a sick cow that needed tending, day in and day out. She got ready as quickly as possible, throwing on some old trousers and a beat-up, navy-blue sweatshirt before pulling her woolen socks up to her knees to guard her skin from the frigid outside air. The window panes were etched in lacy ice patterns. Grabbing her flashlight and some old blankets, she headed for the door and put on her boots at the very last second so as not to awaken Ben in the living room.