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Authors: Margaret Daley

His Holiday Family (18 page)

BOOK: His Holiday Family
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While Kip brought Miss Alice the Christmas card from the front door so she could read the inside, Kathleen watched their neighbor interact with her two sons. A warmth flowed through her. Her sons still bickered, but for this project they had worked side by side with little fighting. In the past week they hadn't said once
they wished they were in Denver. Hope was becoming their home. At least one thing was working out as she'd prayed. If only the rest of it would.

 

At the front of the crowd at Broussard Park in a semicircle around the lighthouse, Kathleen huddled in her light jacket, not having expected the wind to be as cold as it was, blowing off the water. She hugged herself and tried to focus on what Mayor Thomas was saying.

Next to her, Gideon drew her close to him, wrapping his arms around her. His warmth spread through her, alleviating the chill some. She cherished the feel of his embrace, the sense of being protected from the elements. “The temperature is dropping. A front must be moving through. It's always a little cooler here, which is great in the summer.”

She turned her head and whispered, “Some people came better prepared than I did. I'm looking forward to a cup of hot chocolate.”

Gideon's face, only inches from hers, threw her heartbeat into a fast tempo. The cold fled completely as the mayor finished his little speech about the future of Hope.

“It's time to turn on the lights. A beacon of hope in the dark. Ships passing by will be able to see our little light display. Hope may have been hit six weeks ago, but we aren't down. There will be a new Hope rising even better than before. Kip Hart will flip the switch this year on our Lights On Celebration. Kip, are you ready?”

Nodding, her son positioned himself next to a big red button.

“Okay. Ten. Nine,” the mayor said with everyone
as usual joining in the countdown. “Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

Kip pressed the button and bright lights flooded the park—thousands and thousands of them, glittering and dazzling.

But Kathleen's gaze fastened onto the lighthouse the fire department had decorated. Red, white and blue lights covered the whole surface of the white structure as though the building was wrapped in an American flag. “Stunning.”

“I'm glad you like it. It was my idea. A tribute to our soldiers and citizens who continually fight to make this country better. All I have to do is look around at the people in this crowd.”

The warmth of his breath tickled her neck. She shivered.

“Still cold?”

The crowd began to clap at the display not only on the lighthouse, but on the ten-foot Christmas tree standing tall at the edge of the cliff as if it defied the sea to take it down as it had so many others in the hurricane. The park's pines, live oaks, stripped of their Spanish moss, and magnolia trees left from the storm were lit up in white like stars glinting in the night sky.

Kip made his way through the people surrounding the mayor. “Mom, what did ya think?”

“You did great.”

“The mayor told me they found a few more areas along the cliff that had to be shored up. That I prevented others from being hurt. I helped save some people.”

She was glad some good had come out of the tragedy, but it didn't make it any less painful.

“I'm hungry. Can I go get some dessert and hot chocolate?” Jared wedged himself in front of Kathleen.

“I was thinking that very thing.” The church would block a lot of the chilly wind. A much better place to enjoy the treats her mother's ladies' group had fixed. “If we hurry, we can be first in line.”

Jared shot forward, nearly knocking into a young woman in his haste. Kip trailed his brother at a more sedate pace, still not up to his usual active level.

“I probably shouldn't have said that. But then with everyone who turned out for the celebration, it would be nice to be at the front of the line.”

Gideon glanced around. “I think others have the same idea.”

“At least we'll be out of the wind.”

Gideon waved at Pete and his wife. “We could break in line.”

“You're such a rebel.”

“Your mom said something about making divinity.”

“She makes the best in town. Probably the state. I don't know how I'm going to carry on her tradition. Mine isn't nearly as good.”

“Y'all have a lot of traditions at Christmas.”

“Yeah, passed down from my grandmother. There is a comfort to them. Kip and Jared will feel right at home here because we've done the same thing since they were born. We were a little late with the tree because of the accident, but tomorrow we're all going to make Christmas cookies and take them to Hope Retirement Home along with Mom's homemade eggnog. Now that, I have mastered.”

“Even when my parents were alive we didn't have any traditions other than going to church on Christmas Eve.”

“You're welcome to take part in our traditions. Miss
Alice is going to help tomorrow with the cookies and go with us to deliver them.”

“I wish I could, but I promised Pete I would help with some of his repairs at his house. He still has quite a bit of work to do on his place.”

“Somehow I can see you doing that more than baking cookies,” Kathleen said with a chuckle. “It's a lot of fun, but the real work starts after the cookies are boxed up and ready to go.”

His forehead furrowed as he slowly moved forward in the line. “Taking them to the retirement home?”

“No, cleaning up the mess my boys make. Sort of like a mini hurricane blowing through the kitchen. You know flour goes everywhere and in places you don't want when you start throwing it at your brother.”

“Interesting. I would never have figured that.” His laughter filled the air.

Kathleen loved hearing him laugh. It invited her to join in on the merriment. She was falling for him, and she didn't know if that was a smart move. Her marriage problems were still so fresh in her mind. What if she made a mistake as she did with marrying Derek? She had more than herself to consider in this. As she reached her mom behind the first table of goodies, she shook the dilemma from her mind. She wasn't going to let worrying over it ruin her evening.

 

“Thanks for carrying Kip up to bed again. All this activity is wearing him out. It's hard to restrict him at this time of year.” Kathleen opened the front door for Gideon.

He headed up the stairs with Jared following.

“Why does he always get to be carried up the stairs? I should have fallen asleep in the car on the way home,
then you would have to carry me, too. Except I would like you to do a fireman's carry with me.”

Gideon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling at the continual one-upmanship between the two brothers. At least he finally heard from
his
brother overseas. He would be returning to the United States in the spring and wanted to meet Gideon after all these years.

He had vague memories of times spent with Zach as children. Lighthearted, fun times. When he was living at some of the foster homes he'd been at, the atmosphere had been anything but lighthearted. Not all but a few—enough that he always watched his back and guarded his words.

Gideon placed Kip on the bed and covered him as he had the night they had decorated the Christmas tree. The simple action connected him to the child. He backed away, his emotions swelling in his chest, closing his throat.

“I'm going downstairs and probably fall asleep on the couch,” Jared said at the doorway. “Remember the fireman's carry if I happen to fall asleep.”

Gideon strode behind the boy. “Okay, but didn't your mom say something about getting ready for bed?”

He whirled around and began walking backward toward the stairs. “I didn't hear that. I'm not tired a bit.”

“Well, then I guess you won't fall asleep on the couch.”

He swung around and faced forward, grasping the banister. “I can get sleepy real fast.”

“Okay, I'll keep that in mind.”

Downstairs, Jared ran toward the den where the sound of voices was coming from. Gideon paused in the living room and stared at the tree. True to their
word, the boys had filled almost all the blank places on the tree. He could hardly see the pine beneath all the decorations.

“Hi, I thought maybe you had gone home.” Kathleen came up behind him and put her hand on his arm.

The touch zapped him with more feelings of wanting to belong to a family. “I wouldn't leave without telling you good-night. Besides, I have a sneaky suspicion that Jared is going to fall asleep on the couch in the den, and I'm going to have to carry him upstairs using the fireman's carry.”

“You are? So now all I have to do to get him to sleep in the future is to have you here, ready, willing and able to carry him up the stairs over your shoulder. You're hired for the job.”

He tweaked her pert nose. “It's a freebie.” Hooking his arm around her, he pulled her close. “I enjoyed tonight. I've gone every year to the Lights On Celebration, but this year was special.”

“Because we're celebrating more than the beginning of the holiday season. We're celebrating our comeback.”

“I can see that you were a cheerleader in your youth.”

She laughed. “I'm gonna take that as a compliment. Someone has to cheer people on. I'm very good at standing on the sidelines and doing that.”

“Not participating?”

“In this case I guess I did. I still have paint under my fingernails and probably a splinter or two still in my hands.”

He grabbed one of them and turned her palm up. “Where? I'm very good at taking out splinters. Show me and I'll get a needle and alcohol.”

She snatched her hand back. “I think I'll take care of
it. I still have one in my hand from when I was a little girl. It would take surgery to remove it now.”

“I'm a trained paramedic. I probably could do that, too.”

She snuggled closer. “Don't forget our date on the fifteenth. This is your chance to tell me what you want me to cook for you.”

Enjoying her close to him, he looked over her shoulder and up. “Hmm. Let me see. Lobster and T-bone sounds great. Or…” He tilted his head, pretending to be in deep thought. “Actually, surprise me.”

“No lobster and steak?”

“Nope. Although I do like seafood, lobster isn't my favorite.”

“I think I have the perfect recipe in mind.”

“What?”

“You wanted me to surprise you so I'm not telling you.”

“That day I'll be at the doctor late. Do you want to use my kitchen earlier?”

“Probably would be better than me carting all the dishes to your house.”

“Are you working that day?”

“No, and I will need all afternoon to prepare my feast.” She grinned. “But that is all I'm telling you about what I'm preparing.”

Their easy repartee only reinforced how comfortable he was with Kathleen. Her smile encompassed her whole face, joy radiating from her. He couldn't take his gaze off her mouth. Inviting. Tempting. He had to taste it.

He slowly lowered his head. “Thank you for this evening.”

Her lips parted slightly, and he swooped in to kiss
them. He pulled her against him, their rapid heartbeats matching tempos, and put everything into the merging of their mouths.

From afar, someone clearing her throat intruded into his dazed mind. He didn't want to end the kiss, but Kathleen disengaged and stepped from his embrace. She shifted to the right.

“Jared is asleep on the couch. He told me when he fell asleep I was to get Gideon. That he'd know what to do.” Amusement laced Ruth's voice.

Bereft without her in his arms, Gideon nodded his head and clicked his shoes. “Duty calls.”

The urge to tickle Jared was strong, but Gideon resisted it. He bent down and hoisted the child over his right shoulder. He weighed next to nothing considering some of the equipment he had to haul in a fire. Mounting the stairs, he sensed Kathleen's gaze on him. That awareness of her heightened an electric sensation that charged his nerves.

Then she was behind him, following him up the steps. What would it feel like to carry his own child to bed, to have his wife accompany him and them both put him down to sleep? The way his life was going, he'd never find out unless he was willing to make a change and risk getting hurt again.

Chapter Twelve

A
s Kathleen sliced up the red pepper for a salad, her hand shook. Finally, she lay it beside the cutting board and gripped the edge of the counter in Gideon's kitchen. How was she going to find the money for the medical bills for Kip? She was still paying off her husband's debt. The doctor's bill had arrived this afternoon, and it was worse than she thought. She didn't even have the energy to call the doctor's office to talk with someone about what she owed. All her mistakes from her past were crushing her, and she didn't know how to get out from under them.

She forced herself to pick up the paring knife and finish making the salad. The scent of shrimp gumbo saturated the room with its spicy seafood aroma. The repetitive motion of dicing the pepper up into small pieces didn't soothe as it usually did. That was one of the reasons she enjoyed cooking—she could forget her troubles for a while. But not this time.

Gideon would be home soon and ready to celebrate after having his cast removed today. And that was the last thing she felt like doing. She wasn't even sure how she was going to get enthusiastic about the holidays.
She had purchased a couple of gifts for her boys before Kip's accident and the car repairs. That would have to be their Christmas. Although she was already working some extra shifts at the hospital, maybe she could find another nursing job. She didn't have anything else she could sell to raise money. Most of her possessions were gone in the hurricane. The more she thought about her mounting debt the more her movements slowed until she couldn't even lift the blade.

Tears blurred her vision, and she closed her eyes, setting the knife on the counter. She didn't have any answers to her problems. She'd thought about filing for bankruptcy, but she didn't want to do that if at all possible.

The sound of the front door opening then closing underscored she wasn't alone anymore. She needed to get her composure together. This was her problem, and she didn't want to burden anyone else, even Gideon, with it. She straightened, wiped the tears from her eyes and picked up the knife to complete the salad.

“Honey, I'm home,” Gideon said as he came into the kitchen. “Now does that not sound like one of those shows in the fifties like
Leave It to Beaver
or
Father Knows Best?

She forced a smile to her lips and turned toward him. “I think, Mr. O'Brien, you've had way too much time on your hands.”

“I beg your pardon. I've been working at a dull desk job.”

“Which must have given you time to daydream.”

“I did find myself drifting off every once in a while, but don't tell the captain.” He held up his cast-free arm and waved it. “Now that I'm back on rotation, he'd have me doing twice the work.”

“Poor guy. You can't have it both ways. Either desk duty or firefighter. Which is it going to be?” She began dicing the rest of the pepper.

“No contest—firefighter.” He closed the distance between them and drew in a deep breath. “Ah, that's a great smell. Shrimp gumbo. How did you know that's one of my favorite dishes?”

“A little sleuthing on my part. I called Pete, and he told me.”

“And he didn't say a word to me. I didn't think Pete could keep quiet about anything.”

She smiled at him. “This time he did.”

“Can I help you with anything?”

“You can put the French bread into the oven at 375 degrees. Everything else is done.”

“Want me to set the table?”

“I already did. In the dining room.”

Gideon gave a low whistle. “You are going all out.”

“That's the only way to do something. I even brought two of Mom's china place settings.”

“I'm feeling pampered, and all I had to do was go into a burning building and do my job.”

She caught him watching her reaction to his words. “For your information I have forgiven myself weeks ago about my part in your injuries. You have convinced me I wasn't responsible.”

“Good. I was ready to launch into my spiel again if I had to.” He put the bread in the oven then moved toward the dining room. “I have one final touch to add to the table.”

“What?”

He swung around at the doorway. “You are not allowed in here until it is time to eat.”

“Okay. But that's not fair. This was my evening to do for you.”

He headed out of the room. “Who said life is fair?”

Fair? No, it wasn't. Since before Derek's death, it had been one problem after another. When something went wrong, she didn't even have time to recover before another crisis occurred. The tears threatened again. She swallowed them away, but her throat burned.

“All done. I had to lend my finishing touch to the table.”

She picked up the bowl of salad. “I'm done, too. I'm going to put this on the table—”

He plucked it from her hands. “Your ploy won't work. I'll take the food in.”

“While you're in there, bring the bowls for the gumbo. The bread should be done in ten minutes.”

“Great. I'm starved.” He stopped in front of her by the stove and grasped the wooden spoon to stir the pot's contents. Bending over the heat rising from the gumbo, he inhaled and held the breath for a long moment then released it slowly. “I love that smell. I've been wondering all day what you were going to cook and was regretting telling you to surprise me. I don't like surprises normally.”

“Neither do I.” She threw a glance toward the dining room.

“You only have a few more minutes to wait.” He inched toward her. “I can think of a couple of things we could do to pass the time until the bread is done.”

His eyes gleamed as they roved over her face. He reached up and brushed her hair behind her ears, his gaze glued to her mouth. Her heart plummeted. His smoldering look spoke to her feminine side, urging
her to give in to the feelings he generated in her. She couldn't, shouldn't.

When he sought her mouth and touched his to hers, she knew she needed to break it off. Her heart refused to listen to common sense that said she should get her life under control before even thinking of becoming involved with a man. She surrendered, giving him a part of herself she didn't have to give.

When they broke apart, their breathing ragged, Kathleen quickly tried to recapture that elusive part of herself—her heart. She couldn't risk it right now. She could never ask another to take on the kind of debt she had. It was
her
problem. No one else's.

He framed her face between his hands, his eyes leaving a heated trail where they roamed. “This wasn't exactly how I pictured telling you this. I wanted something a little romantic. But here goes. Kathleen Hart, I love you. I have never said that to another woman. Ever. In these past two months you've become so important to me. I hope one day you'll agree to be my wife. You don't have to say anything right now because I know you need time, but please think about it. I want to be a father to Kip and Jared. I want to be a husband to you.”

Each word seared into her.
No. Don't. I can't.
She stared at him, seeing the sparkle in his eyes slowly fade, the smile transform into a look of puzzlement. Still, she couldn't say anything. It wouldn't be fair to Gideon. Her problems weren't his. She couldn't…

She backed away. “You know how I feel about marriage. I had one bad marriage and that was enough. I never want that again.”

“To be married or a bad marriage?” His terse voice sliced through the air.

“Both. Not now.” She whirled around and started toward the doorway into the dining room. She needed to get out of here.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm and rotated her toward him. “Stay. We can talk about this.”

“No, enjoy the gumbo.” The scent of burning bread permeated the kitchen. She gestured toward the oven. “You'd better take the bread out.”

When he dropped her arm and turned toward the stove, she fled, hurrying past the dining room table. A gorgeous bouquet of flowers—lilies, carnations and others she didn't recognize—infused the air with their sweet fragrance. On a plate was a present in a small box. Its sight spurred her to a faster pace.

This wasn't the time to give her heart to another—not with all the complication in her life.
He'll thank me later.
But as she left his house, that thought didn't comfort her one bit.

 

Gideon yanked the burning bread from the oven. In his haste, one of his fingers touched the hot pan. He dropped it and jumped back. Staring at the bread on the floor, he stood rigid from the emotions bombarding him as if he were being hit over and over from all sides.

She doesn't want to have anything to do with me. She might as well tell me to get lost.

This was the reason he didn't put himself out there. Anger vied with his hurt. He wanted to be mad at Kathleen. He needed to be. Otherwise, the hurt would win, and he would be back to how it had been after his parents' deaths. He wouldn't go there again. He'd fought to get where he was today.

Lord, what do I do?

 

After a long day putting in overtime, all Kathleen wanted to do was put up her feet and do nothing. But tonight was the time she'd set aside to finish baking some goodies for her gifts to family and friends. It was all she could afford to do. When she entered the kitchen with her two bags of groceries, she found her mother at the table with her two sons painting the Christmas plates the goodies would be placed on. She'd wanted to help with that part, too, but when the overtime opportunity came up, her mom said she'd love to assist Jared and Kip. It would be a treat for her.

“It's about time you got home, Mom,” Kip said, holding up his work of art. “What do you think? This is for Sally.”

In the center of the white plate, he'd painted a green Christmas tree and then put ornaments on it and lots of presents under it, much like the front of Miss Alice's huge card. “Beautiful. She's going to love it.” Her cousin was still living with her mother at least for a few more months until her apartment building was rebuilt.

“I'm doing one for Gideon. What do you think about mine?”

All she saw was Jared's big grin as he showed her his plate with green rolling hills and a night sky with a brilliant star shining in it. “You've done a great job.”

“That's the star the Wise Men followed. I remember Gideon telling me about it when we put the star on our tree.” He tilted his head and furrowed his forehead. “Why haven't we seen him lately? He hasn't been down here in a week. I had to visit him to see him without his cast.”

“Yeah, Mom, is he mad at us or something?”

Kathleen locked gazes with her mother. “I know he
isn't mad at you two, but now that he can work as a firefighter again, he has needed to focus on that.”

“I asked him to go to church with us on Christmas Eve.” Jared set his plate down among the others they had painted. “He said he couldn't. It's sad he doesn't have a family to share Christmas with.”

“Yes, it is,” she murmured and turned away from her children before she started crying in front of them. She'd made such a mess of everything.

“We could be his family this Christmas,” Kip said.

“That looks like the last two plates you need to do.” Her mother glanced at the clock on the wall. “You said something about watching that Christmas movie on TV tonight. It'll be on in five minutes. You need to wash up and get into your pajamas. It'll be late when the movie is over and time for bed.”

After her boys left the room, her mom approached her. “Are you all right?”

“No. Everything is falling apart. I—” Kathleen couldn't find the words to tell her mother how much she'd missed Gideon the past week. She glimpsed him once leaving his house, and it had taken all her willpower not to run after him and beg his forgiveness.

“I haven't wanted to pry—okay, maybe I have—but talking about what happened between y'all last week might help you.”

“I had just gotten the final bill from the doctor and hospital for Kip's accident that day I made dinner for him. When he told me he loved me and—”

“He loves you! Why didn't you tell me? That's great. That's—” Her enthusiasm waned. “Is that the problem? You don't love him?”

“I do love him. I didn't want to fall in love, but this whole week he's all I thought about. I miss him terribly
and yet, Mom, how can I ask a man to take on my debt, especially now that thousands more have been added to it? I can't. It's not his problem. It's mine.”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

“No.”

“Why not? He at least deserves to know you care about him, and why you don't want to see him anymore. You aren't being fair to him.”

“I believe he told me life isn't always fair.”

“That's a cop-out and you know it.” Her mother sighed. “He's good with the boys. They deserve someone like him in their lives. From what you told me, their own father didn't pay much attention to them in the last few years before he died.”

“Yeah, and both Jared and Kip have drunk in Gideon's attention.”

“Did you think they wouldn't ask why he wasn't coming around?”

“I didn't think. I just reacted to him telling me he loved me. I got scared. I still am. What if I make a mistake like I did with Derek?”

“Gideon is a good man. He is nothing like Derek. Whether he is for you is another question and one only you can answer. Do you want Derek to control the rest of your life? He will if you let what happened between you two dictate how you live now.” Her mother took her hands. “Honey, you shouldn't be having this conversation with me but with Gideon.”

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Kathleen hugged her. “I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't come home. I was a mess after Derek died. I should have come back to Hope right away.”

BOOK: His Holiday Family
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