Yuletide Hearts (14 page)

Did he just glance wistfully at the stack of boxes? Like a little boy lost, gazing in a Christmas window?

No.

He headed toward the door, bagels in hand, almost hurrying, as if he couldn't wait to leave.
Or because he badly longed to stay.

“Matt, can you help us?” Callie's voice stretched high, nerves showing.

“Really?” He turned, caught off guard, as if making sure he heard correctly.

“Sure, Matt!”

“I mean, if you're too busy…” Callie went on, offering him a way out. If he wanted one, that is.

“He's not, are you, Matt?” Jake implored. “Because you can work this afternoon when I'm at the party, right?”

“I can,” Matt told him, his voice deep and easy. “Happy to do that, bud.”

“Matt loved helping with Christmas when he was little,” Don added.

A shot of pain darkened Matt's gaze, but Callie drew him forward, ready to fix old wrongs. Now was a time for hope. Happiness. Health. “Good, then you're experienced.” She grinned at him and directed him to a spot on the couch. “You sit here and open these.” She slid a pile of boxes to his left as the guys grabbed hats and gloves.

“The guys and I will start getting those plumbing lines laid in number twenty-three, Matt,” Hank said smoothly, “because we can't finish those last two roofs until the weather clears. And then Don can head back to seaming the model once it's clear of people.”

“I love plumbing,” Buck announced. He headed for the door. “You sure it won't bother the folks looking around?”

Matt shook his head. “They know we have to work. And they've had more than a half hour already.”

“And time's money,” added Hank, but he winked Matt's way, “although we wouldn't mind nailing down that first contract.”

“That would be wonderful,” Matt agreed.

A
s the aging but earnest military crew trooped out, Matt turned, catching Callie's look. “A little obvious?”

Callie smiled. “Blatantly, but sweet.”

Matt snorted as Jake dragged a box closer. “What soldier wants to be called sweet?” he asked, making a face.

Too late he realized his mistake as he caught Callie's look. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So what's first?” He surveyed the boxes and let Callie take the lead.

“The manger scene goes on the painted chest alongside the fireplace.”

“This box.” Jake pulled a smaller one front and center. “And this one,” he added, shifting another one forward.

“Great. Let me just grab a—”

“Gotcha covered, marine.” Callie slipped alongside Matt and handed off a cup of coffee, fragrant and steaming hot, her thoughtfulness curling around his heart, the scent of coffee, Callie and a hint of wood smoke feeling like he'd come home to a greeting card Christmas. He leaned forward and bumped foreheads with her, ever so gently. “Thank you.”

Her smile said so much. Too much? He hoped not. Prayed not. “You're welcome.”

“So.” He sat on the floor, balanced his coffee on a side table
and opened the first box. “I'll unpack while you guys direct. Is that okay?”

“It's great, Matt!” Jake grinned in wide enthusiasm, his bright blue eyes different from his mother's jade green, but his gentle joy at grasping life? That was Callie all the way.

Matt reached into the first box and withdrew a rugged barnlike structure. “The stable.”

“Which might have been a cave,” Jake explained solemnly. “People aren't really sure, but we know they kept animals there.”

“History lesson noted.” Matt smiled up at him and handed him an unwrapped camel.

“These guys go over here,” Jake continued, intent on detail. He moved the camel off to the side. “The wise men didn't get to see Jesus for a while, but we like to remember their visit at Christmas so we include them.”

Matt angled a glance up to Callie. “Does he get his love of history from you?”

She sent him a dubious look. “Dad's been teaching him history since birth. And Jake eats it up. I'm lucky I remember breakfast.”

“I get it.” He unwrapped more figures and smiled as Jake set them carefully around the rough, wooden stable, frequently stepping back to see if they were placed just right. “The fussiness he gets from you,” Matt observed, grinning, a few minutes later.

“I prefer to call it attention to detail,” Callie shot back as she attempted to unravel a tangled set of twinkle lights. “Which is why that model kitchen might just sell a house for you.”

“For us,” Matt corrected.

She looked embarrassed but pleased to be included.

“I mean it, Cal. I couldn't have gotten this done without a great crew and having your family on hand. And the guys.” Matt winked at Jake as he handed off a statue of Joseph. “Made all the difference in the world.”

“We could just all work together forever,” Jake announced, serious and cute. “That way we can build houses and everyone has a job.”

“Jake.”

“Great idea.” Matt handed Jake a slightly chipped gray donkey and sent a lazy smile Callie's way. “We'll have to see how things go, okay?”

“Okay!” He grinned as Matt continued helping, the easy act of unwrapping history binding in its simplicity.

Callie finished unraveling the lights, plugged them in, then groaned.

Matt hid a chuckle behind a cough. “Might want to test 'em first the next time.”

When she turned to scowl at him he tugged her down beside him, pointing to the second box. “Let's do these together. Then the lights. Is there garland for the mantel?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.”

“And Mom always puts Christmas cards up there, and candles,” Jake explained. “It's real pretty.”

“Like your mom.”

Jake turned, suspicious. “Are you guys getting mushy?”

“No,” Callie said.

“Well…” Matt grinned at her, tweaked her nose, then handed Jake the next figure. She blushed, and in that heightened color Matt read the possibility of a future he'd denied himself, the thought of working with the Mareks, coming home to this family, a gift like no other. He watched Callie hand up a lamb to Jake, then asked, “How about if you and I do some shopping tonight?”

“Can I come?” Jake asked instantly.

“May I,” Callie corrected. She shook her head, chin down, and continued to unwrap figures. “We probably shouldn't.”

“Sure we should.” Matt stretched across her and tugged the box of lights closer. “Jake can stay with Hank and you and I can get our Christmas shopping done.”

“I'll be good,” Jake wheedled.

“You'll be in bed,” Matt corrected him mildly. He gave a lock of Callie's hair a tug. “What do you think? Good idea?”

 

Instinct had told her to say no after seeing Matt and Katie canoodling at a cozy table in the acoustic café. Shopping with Matt might possibly be the
worst
idea she'd ever heard, so why did she say yes?

Because you're a sucker for the little boy you see behind the rugged marine.

Either way, here they were at the mall later that night, the sweet glow of Christmas lights framing windows and doors, their bright presence climbing columns and archways. “This must look like fairyland to a kid like Jake,” Matt mused as they walked through the food court surrounded by mouth-watering smells. Soft notes of Christmas music floated from a keyboard player centered amid the tables.

“You never came to the mall at Christmas when you were a kid?” Callie asked. One look at his face answered that. “Then I'm glad to be with you this time,” she told him and hugged his arm.

“You think Jake's mad at us because we wouldn't let him come?”

Honesty was the best policy.
Most times.
“I think Jake has a wicked case of hero worship and thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread.”

“No argument there.” Matt grinned at her. “The boy's smart. So what are we shopping for?”

“Not much.” She paused and faced him, determined to be up front, although admitting her limits made them seem more constraining. “My budget is small. Think miniscule. So is Dad's. Jake needs a new bike, so that's it. And some new socks and art supplies for school. Crayons, markers, cool pencils, tablets, et cetera.”

Matt accepted what she said easily. “So if I got him some miniature cars and trucks, would that be okay?”

“He'd love that.”

“And maybe his first power drill?”

“Matt—”

“And I could build him a workbench.”

“Stop!” She put two fingers against his mouth to shush him, and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the feel of his face, his mouth against her skin. Right then she wished she had soft, feminine fingers, uncalloused, unworn, the silky-soft skin she saw advertised everywhere. And despite her attempts to heal the roughened skin with creams, her fingers showed the effects of working in cold, dry conditions on a steady basis.

Matt caught her hand, kissed it, smiled and said, “Okay, I'm a little excited. I've never shopped for a kid before. Maybe I should do the tool thing for him instead of cars.”

“He does have some cars already,” Callie agreed, trying to ignore the feel of her hand clasped in his and failing. “And we couldn't afford to get him a real tool kit of his own once everything went bad. He's got a few, but…”

“Tools it is,” Matt decided. “And I'd like to get something for Jeff and Hannah. Besides what I'm getting for their wedding,” he added. “And something for Dana Brennan and Helen Walker. Helen's always been good to me, and Dana, well…” He paused as though choosing his words, then said, “Dana has treated me kindly through thick and thin. She's one special lady.”

“She is.” Callie squeezed his hand. “And I'm delighted that Jeff and Hannah are having a New Year's wedding.”

Matt bumped her arm. “That we're both attending.”

“I—”

“I'll take that as a yes.” He grinned, then tugged her along. “Already this is a productive night. I've got a Christmas plan
and
a date for the wedding.”

“I didn't say yes,” she retorted, shrugging her purse up her other arm. “And you didn't ask. You assumed.”

“Will you go with me? Save me from a night of food, romance and music all alone?”

Callie flashed him a once-over. “I don't think you'd be all that lonely.”

“Your presence ensures it.” He paused outside the cookie and coffee shop. “Want a quick coffee? My treat.”

“I'd love one.” The piano notes paused as Matt ordered their coffees, then began again, different this time, as though…

Callie jumped as a voice rang out right next to her. Another voice joined in from across the way, followed by two, harmonizing, about eight tables back.

The piano danced along, the flow of voices joined by others as random people stood and sang around the center court.

“A flash mob,” Callie breathed, gripping Matt's arm.

He shook his head, not understanding.

“Choral groups and dance troupes put these together and then randomly perform,” Callie whispered. She squeezed his arm tighter. “I've always wanted to see one.”

“Well, here you go.” He smiled down at her as the far-flung choir offered a rousing Christmas medley, their voices blending harmony and praise. As the medley wound down, a lone man mounted a chair in the middle, his haggard appearance making him look cast-out. Wondering. Wandering. Slowly, note by note, he began singing “Joseph's Song,” the poignant hymn expressing the awesome wonder and responsibility of guiding God's son through life.

 

The lone man was singing to him.
Of him,
Matt decided as emotions grabbed hold and refused to let go.

The words filled Matt's heart, easing more of the angst. Simple piano notes balanced the strong tenor of the prayerful man, seeking God's will, a father's advice, wondering where a common man like him fit into such a wondrous plan.

The words, meant for Christ's earthly father, fit any man guiding a child not his own. A part of Matt wished Don had felt this way, that he'd been strong enough to ask God's help and be part of Matt's life.

Another part envisioned Jake, another man's son, a child so sweet, so invested in life that Matt wondered if his presence would bless the boy's life. Could it?

Joseph was a simple carpenter.

Like Matt.

He accepted a child not his own.

A boy, like Jake, to father. Guide. Love. And Joseph embraced his wife despite questionable circumstances. He latched on to faith and clung to an angel's direction.

Could Matt be that strong? Could he embrace Callie and Jake, and be a father in the image of Joseph?

A tiny tear slipped down Callie's cheek, the spiritual words working womanly magic. Matt caught the tear and tugged her closer, holding her. Cherishing her. Wondering what he'd done to have this family put in his path, how this perfect timing had come about. No matter. She was here, and unless he messed up big time, her feelings for him reflected his for her. Just right.

The song came to a whispered close, the soft chain of notes like a puff of wind.

“Here.” Matt handed her a napkin, rolled his eyes and smiled. “Women. Always mushy.”

“Like that didn't affect you?” she asked. She poked him with her elbow. “Seriously?”

“Oh, it did.” He didn't dare tell her how much. “But the coffee's getting cold and the mall's open only three more hours.”

“Then it's good we've got a short list,” she told him.

He smiled and sipped his coffee, thinking the list might grow, whispers of promises and forever afters niggling his brain. But for now, they'd shop. Figure things out. Take this blessed night for what it was: a time to be together. Get to know one another away from the clatter and chatter that surrounded them at work. Tonight they were just a pair of shoppers, out to have a little fun.

He couldn't have asked for more.