Книга - Her Holiday Family

Her Holiday Family
Ruth Logan Herne


Kirkwood Lake: A town full of heart and hopeWhen her café goes up in smoke, Tina Martinelli decides to make a big change. She plans to leave Kirkwood Lake and start over–somewhere without the haunting memories of family and failure. But just as she's plotting her new life, her girlhood crush Max Campbell returns to town…and suddenly takes notice of Tina all grown up. Having retired from his military career, Max's ready to start over, too. He's given his heart to her. Now, if only Max can convince Tina to stick around this Christmas–and forever after.Kirkwood Lake: A town full of heart and hope







Home for the Holidays

When her café goes up in smoke, Tina Martinelli decides to make a big change. She plans to leave Kirkwood Lake and start over—somewhere without the haunting memories of family and failure. But just as she’s plotting her new life, her girlhood crush Max Campbell returns to town…and suddenly takes notice of Tina all grown up. Having retired from his military career, Max’s ready to start over, too. He’s given his heart to her. Now, if only Max can convince Tina to stick around this Christmas—and forever after.

Kirkwood Lake: A town full of heart and hope


“I love baking.”

“Can’t prove it by me,” Max retorted. “We’ve worked together for over a week and I’ve seen two measly cookies. Kind of lame, Tina.”

She laughed, and it felt good. They got to her door and she swung about, surprised. “That’s the first time I’ve passed the café site without getting emotional. I didn’t even realize we’d gone by.”

“The company, perhaps?” Max bumped shoulders with her, a friendly gesture.

“Indubitably,” she joked back, then looked up.

His eyes, his gaze…

Dark and questing, smiling and wondering.

He glanced down at her, then waited interminable seconds…for what? Her to move toward him?

She did.

His arms wrapped around her, tugging her close. The cool texture of his collar brushed her cheek, a contrast to the warmth he emanated.

He smelled like leather, dish soap and fresh lemons, a delightful mingling of scents in the chill of a Christmas-lit night.


RUTH LOGAN HERNE

Born into poverty, Ruth puts great stock in one of her favorite Ben Franklinisms: “Having been poor is no shame. Being ashamed of it is.” With God-given appreciation for the amazing opportunities abounding in our land, Ruth finds simple gifts in the everyday blessings of smudge-faced small children, bright flowers, freshly baked goods, good friends, family, puppies and higher education. She believes a good woman should never fear dirt, snakes or spiders, all of which like to infest her aged farmhouse, necessitating a good pair of tongs for extracting the snakes, a flat-bottomed shoe for the spiders, and for the dirt…

Simply put, she’s learned that some things aren’t worth fretting about! If you laugh in the face of dust and love to talk about God, men, romance, great shoes and wonderful food, feel free to contact Ruth through her website, www.ruthloganherne.com (http://www.ruthloganherne.com).


Her Holiday Family

Ruth Logan Herne






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For if you forgive others their trespasses,

your heavenly Father will also forgive you.

—Matthew 6:14


To the real Tina, one of the strongest and most amazing women I know. God blessed me the day we crossed paths in Denver, and He’s continued to do so ever since. I love you, Teenster. And to Terry, Sean, Dan and Ronnie, my siblings who served when I was too young to understand the amazing sacrifice they made. Thank you. I love you. Your dedication is inspiration to so many!

Acknowledgments

Big thanks to Tony and Debby Giusti who are always willing to offer me advice on my military heroes. Your expertise is invaluable and I’m so grateful! To Melissa Endlich and Giselle Regus for their well-tuned advice about how to strengthen Tina and Max’s story. Your advice produced a stronger book and I thank you! To Natasha Kern, my beloved agent, a woman with amazing patience and insight. I am so blessed to be working with you!

To Beth for all of her help and advice on how to write a better story. To the Seekers who are always there, ready to have my back as needed! To Basel’s Restaurant, a fun, family style Greek restaurant here in upstate where I spent eleven years waiting tables. Real life is the VERY BEST research. And to Lakeshore Supply Company, our new local hardware store: I’m so glad you moved to town! Charlie Campbell’s store came alive because of your delightful Hamlin and Hilton stores.


Contents

Cover (#u31b002a3-ec25-5297-b934-0c52dc494d65)

Back Cover Text (#ubc565d68-869b-5806-bfbe-af0259b80752)

Introduction (#uf03ebe28-5df6-564e-b152-88638f2c0aa6)

About the Author (#u3dc20f3c-b8af-522f-92dc-5e1937c1421e)

Title Page (#ue159ec01-1938-5436-bc72-903425403847)

Bible Verse (#u585f176e-93ec-5a75-bf28-f73195848b43)

Dedication (#u033d3ff3-7479-5264-b308-58f36232a8dc)

Chapter One (#ulink_fb90dac5-1ab4-530f-9419-d498c47440cf)

Chapter Two (#ulink_19ab7ac3-ab82-5435-8a88-5113112d272c)

Chapter Three (#ulink_1b7e9b9c-6e33-5925-9337-1967ebc0d8f1)

Chapter Four (#ulink_1a63481f-28ee-5962-9606-18d1a8454747)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_b20e02c6-22b6-5e43-8046-fa3653305b2d)

The old familiar voice stopped Tina Martinelli in her tracks as she stepped through the back door of Campbell’s Hardware Store late Sunday morning. “I’ll do whatever you need, Dad. I’m here to stay.”

Max Campbell was here? In Kirkwood Lake?

Max Campbell, her teenage crush. The Campbell son who’d enlisted in the army and had never looked back. Max Campbell, the to-die-for, dark-haired, brown-eyed, adopted Latino son who’d broken countless hearts back in the day? The guy who used to hang out at her neighbor’s house, until Pete Sawyer and his girlfriend lost their lives in a tragic late-night boating accident.

She’d never seen Max at the Sawyers’ again. Not to visit Pete’s parents. Not to offer Pete’s little sister, Sherrie, a hug. Abnormally quiet became the new normal.

No more Max, no more Pete, no more parties.

A lot had changed on one warm, dark summer’s night.

The wooden back door of Campbell’s Hardware swung shut before she could stop it, the friendly squeak announcing her arrival. She did a very feminine mental reassessment before moving forward.

Hair?

Typical elfin crazy.

Nails?

Short and stubby, perfect for a hardware clerk, but not for coming face-to-face with Max Campbell over a decade later.

Makeup?

She hadn’t bothered with any. She’d spent her early morning testing a new recipe, something she hoped to use in the not-too-distant future.

“Tina? That you?” The forced heartiness of Charlie Campbell’s voice said she had little choice but to move forward, so that’s what she did.

“I’m here, Charlie.” She strode into the store, shoulders back, chin high, when what she wanted was a thirty-minute makeover. Why hadn’t she worn her favorite jeans, the ones that made her feel young, jazzed and totally able to handle whatever life handed out?

Because you were coming to work in a hardware store, and who wears their best jeans to work in a hardware store?

The two men turned in tandem.

Her heart stopped when she locked eyes with Max.

She set it right back to beating with a stern internal warning because, despite Max’s short, dark hair and dangerously attractive good looks, the guy had left his adoptive family when he’d finished college and hadn’t come back since. And that was plain wrong.

“Tina, you remember our son Max, don’t you?” Pride strengthened Charlie’s voice, while the effects of his ongoing chemotherapy showed the reality of his current battle with pancreatic cancer. “He’s a captain now, but he’s come back home for a while.”

“For good, Dad.” Max’s gaze offered assurance tinged with regret, but life taught Tina that assurances often meant little and ended badly. Around Kirkwood Lake the proof was in the pudding, as Jenny Campbell liked to say. And Max had a lot of proving to do.

She stepped forward and extended her hand, wishing her skin was smoother, her nails prettier, her—

He wrapped her hand in a broad, warm clasp, sure and strong but gentle, too.

And then he did the unthinkable.

He noticed her.

His gaze sharpened. His eyes widened. He gripped his other hand around the first, embracing her hand with both of his. “This is little Tina? Little Tina Martinelli? For real?”

The blush started somewhere around her toes and climbed quickly.

Little Tina.

That’s what she’d been to him, an awestruck kid stargazing as the wretchedly good-looking youngest Campbell brother broke hearts across the lakeside villages. Max wasn’t what you’d call a bad boy...

But no one accused him of being all that good, either.

“It’s me.” She flashed him a smile, hoping her Italian skin softened the blush, but the frankness of Charlie’s grin said it hadn’t come close. “I—”

“It’s good to see you, Tina.”

Warmth. Honesty. Integrity.

His tone and words professed all three, so maybe the army had done him good, but she’d locked down her teenage crush a long time back. Over. Done. Finished. “You, too.”

Did he hold her hand a moment too long?

Of course not, he was just being nice.

But when she pulled her hand away, a tiny glint in his eye set her heart beating faster.

Clearly she needed a pacemaker, because she wasn’t about to let Max Campbell’s inviting smile and good looks tempt her from her newly planned road. Life had offered an unwelcome detour less than four weeks ago, when her popular café burned to the ground on a windswept October night. She’d watched the flames devour ten years of hard work and sacrifice, everything gone in two short hours. It made her heart ache to think how quickly things could change.

“You’re working here, Tina?” Max angled his head slightly, and his appreciative look said this was an interesting—and nice—turn of events.

“Tina came on board to help when I got sick,” Charlie explained. He indicated the waterfront southwest of them with a thrust of his chin. “She had the nicest little café right over there in Sol Rigby’s old mechanics shop. Put a lot of time and money into that place, a bunch of years. Her coffee shop became one of those places folks love to stop at, but it caught fire a few weeks back. The local volunteers did their best to save it, but the sharp north wind and the fire’s head start was too much. So Tina’s helping us out while we’re waiting for the dust to settle with my treatments.”

Concern darkened Max’s gaze as he turned her way, as if the loss of her beloved business mattered, as if she mattered.

Don’t look like that, Max.

Don’t look like you care that my hopes and dreams went up in smoke. That despite how I invested every penny and ounce of energy into building that business, it evaporated in one crazy, flame-filled night. You’re not the caring type, remember? When life turns tragic, you tend to disappear. And I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.

Tears pricked her eyes.

She’d been doing better these past few weeks. She could walk past the burned-out building and not shed a tear. Oh, she shed some mental ones each time, but she hadn’t cried for real since that first week, when rain or a puff of wind sent the smell of burned-out wood wafting through the village.

“Tina, I’m so sorry.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself. He appraised her, then stepped back. “You don’t mind teaching me stuff, do you? I’m pretty good with a grappling hook or an all-terrain vehicle on caterpillar treads. Put a semiautomatic in my hands and I’m on my game.” He made a G.I. Joe–type motion and stance, ready to stand guard for truth, justice and the American way. “But Dad’s new computerized cash registers?” He made a face of fear, and the fact that he steered the conversation away from her pain meant he recognized the emotion and cared.

Sure he cares. Like you’re a kid sister who just broke her favorite toy. Get hold of yourself, will you? “I’ll be glad to show you whatever you need, Max.” She shifted her gaze left. “Charlie, are you staying today?”

“Naw.” Frustration marred Charlie’s normal smile. “The treatments are catching up with me. When Max showed up at the house yesterday and said he was here to run the store for as long as we need him, well, I’ll tell you.” Charlie slapped a hand on his youngest son’s back. “It was a gift from God. I’d just told Jenny we needed someone here to help you and Earl, with the holidays coming up and all. And while I hate that your pretty little restaurant burned—”

The anxious look in the older man’s eyes made Tina recognize a timeline she was loathe to see.

“Having you here, and now Max, well...” Charlie breathed deep. “It’s easier for me to focus on getting well, knowing the store is in good hands. I know you’re not planning to stay in Kirkwood, Tina, but I thank God every night that we’ve got you here now. I hate having your mother—” he moved his gaze to Max while Tina fought a new lump of throat-tightening emotion “—worrying over me all the time. But you know her, there’s no keeping her from it. And while I’m not one to be fussed over, it’s good to have her on my side right now.”

* * *

Old guilt and his new reality gut-stabbed Max.

Time had gone by. Mistakes had been made. No matter how many battles he fought, no matter how many medals the army pinned on his chest, a part of him couldn’t move beyond the teenage boy who’d made a grievous error in judgment years ago.

He swallowed hard but kept his face even. “I should have come back sooner, Dad. I know that. But I’m here now, and I’ll do everything I can to make things easier for you and Mom. That’s if I can keep my mind on hardware with such pretty help.” He slanted a glance of pretended innocence Tina’s way.

His ruse of humor worked.

Charlie’s laugh lightened the moment. Tina looked like she wanted to mop the floor with him, making jokes at a moment of truth, but Max knew his father. Charlie Campbell would be the first to say that getting crazy emotional over must-have treatments and their outcomes wasn’t in anyone’s best interests.

You could have come back. You chose not to. That one’s all on you, soldier.

Max’s heart weighed heavy as Charlie picked up his car keys. Ten years of staying away, grabbing for a future because he couldn’t face the past. He’d lost time with his mother, his father, his siblings. Time that could never be regained.

Now he was home, determined to make amends and begin again. Charlie and Jenny Campbell had taken in a five-year-old boy, dumped by his mother the week before Christmas, and brought him to their sprawling lakeside home. They’d changed his life that day, given him a second chance not all children get.

He loved them for it. Now? Time to give back. And if reconnecting with his hometown meant facing old wrongs? Then it was about time he manned up and did just that because staying away hadn’t fixed anything. Over the years he’d faced enemies on three separate continents. He could handle Kirkwood Lake.

Once his father left the store, Max turned toward Tina.

“Don’t you dare break their hearts again, Max Campbell.”

He’d come home expecting emotional shrapnel.

Tina’s flat-out decree was more like a direct hit at close range. He started to speak, but Tina moved a half step forward, invading his space. “What were you thinking disappearing like that? All those years gone. What were you doing all that time?”

“My job?” He let his inflection say the answer was obvious, but he knew Tina was right. He could have come back. Should have come back. He’d missed weddings, baptisms, anniversaries and holidays. And he’d done it on purpose, because it was easier to face current danger than past lapses in judgment. He got careless and stupid, but he didn’t need this drop-dead gorgeous gray-eyed beauty to ream him out over it.

Although he preferred her sass to the tears she’d been fighting minutes before. Tears went hand in hand with high drama. If there was something Max steered clear of, it was high-drama women.

“Your job wasn’t 24/7/365.” She folded her hands across her chest, leveled him a look and didn’t seem at all fazed that he had her by a good seven inches and sixty pounds. Or that he was a munitions expert. Her bravado made him smile inside, but he held back, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate his amusement.

“I should have come back. Phone calls weren’t enough. I know that now.” He’d known it then, too, but it had been easier to stay away. Still, this was his personal business, not hers. Fortunately his straightforward admission helped take the wind out of her sails.

Good. He had no intention of being yelled at all day. With the high-volume sales of winter and holiday items upon them, he knew Campbell’s Hardware would be cranking. His job was to learn the new aspects of an old business ASAP, shouldering the work his parents did so naturally. “For the moment, if you can take a break from yelling at me, I need to learn as much as I can as quickly as I can to help out. Now we either do this together—” he mimicked her stance and saw her wince as if recognizing her stubbornness “—or we work as separate entities. But, Tina?” He held her gaze, waiting until she blinked in concession to continue.

Only she didn’t.

He shrugged that off mentally and stood his ground. “We’ve got to take care of this for Dad’s sake. And Mom’s. No matter how you might feel about me. Which means we might have to declare a truce, at least during working hours. Agreed?”

Her expression softened. She stared over his shoulder, sighed, then brought her eyes back to his. “Agreed.”

He refused to acknowledge her reluctance. Ten years in the service taught him to pick his battles. He’d seen her face when they’d talked of her business burning. He understood that working side by side with the Campbell prodigal probably hadn’t made her short list, and life had done a number on her.

But when she took a deep breath and stuck out her hand again, he realized that Tina Martinelli was made of pretty strong stuff. “Do-over,” she instructed.

He smiled, nodded and accepted her hand in his.

“Max, you might not remember me. I’m Tina Martinelli and I’m here to help your parents.”

He should resist. He knew it, knew it the minute her eyes locked with his. Held.

But he couldn’t and so he gave her hand a light squeeze and smiled. “Well, Tina, I do remember you, but what I remember is a pesky tomboy who whistled louder, ran faster and jumped higher than most of the guys around.”

The blush heightened again. Was it because he remembered or because he’d brought up her penchant for sports and winning? Max wasn’t sure, but he leaned closer, just enough to punctuate his meaning. “This Tina?” He shook his head, dropped her hand and stepped back. He didn’t give her a once-over because he didn’t have to. Her face said she understood. “This Tina is a surprise and I can’t say I’m sorry to be working with her. Reason enough to clean up and hurry into work each morning.”

“Which means we need to set ground rules.” She glossed over his compliment as if it hadn’t affected her. Max allotted her extra points for that and played along. “Employees are not allowed to fraternize outside of work.”

Max frowned. “My parents own this place and I’m going to guarantee they fraternize outside of work. That’s how they got to be parents.”

She bristled, looking really cute as she did. But he couldn’t think of that. There was work to be done so he held up a hand. “You’re right. I know you and Earl have been picking up a lot of slack, so my goal is to help you any way I can. If we can keep Mom and Dad from worrying about the store, Dad can focus on getting through his treatments. Getting well.”

“Then we share the same objective. Perfect.” She gave him a crisp nod as she moved to a stack of holiday-themed boxes. “As long as we keep our focus on that, we shouldn’t have any problems.”

Saucy and determined, the grown-up Tina wasn’t much different than she’d been years ago. He knew he should stop. Let her have the last word. But when she slanted a “keep your distance” look over her shoulder, he couldn’t resist. “Working for the government taught me to get around problems efficiently, Tina Martinelli. I expect that might come in handy now and then.”

* * *

Come in handy?

Not with her, it wouldn’t.

Oh, she saw the charm and self-assuredness that had drawn girls to Max back in their youth. Refined now, the charisma was more dangerous, almost volatile. But Tina hadn’t spent the last decade pining for her childhood crush. She’d managed to have her heart broken twice since, so Max could flirt and tempt all he wanted. It would do him no good.

Tina was immune.

You want to be immune, but face it, darling. Damp palms say something else entirely.

She shushed the internal warning, but when she leaned in to show Max how to engage cash register functions, the scent of him made her long to draw closer.

She didn’t. She ignored the fact that he smelled of sandalwood and soap and total guy, and that the flash of his smile brightened a room.

She didn’t need any rooms brightened, thank you. A few LED lightbulbs took care of that in a cost-effective way.

Over the years, she’d shrugged off her teenage attraction to Max as silly adolescent stuff. But today, seeing the straightforward warmth of the hardened but humorous man he’d become?

That might be tough to resist.

Fortunately Tina wasn’t in the market for anything in Kirkwood Lake these days. Least of all another broken heart. Been there, done that. Overrated.

She showed him through the layout of the store. His parents had done a complete remodel four years previous, making Max’s memories obsolete, and the first thing he noted out loud were the rotational seasonal displays set at four separate locations. “I expect this was my mother’s idea.”

Tina nodded as she unlocked the front door and officially opened the story for business. “She likes to go to regional conferences that teach how to build sales while keeping overhead in check.”

“Always a trick in retail.” Max nodded to the first customer in the door, a woman, carrying an older-model chain saw that had seen better days.

“Is Earl here yet?” The look she gave Tina and Max said she didn’t put much trust in their abilities.

“No, ma’am,” Max told her. “Not ’til noon. But maybe I can help?”

She looked at him, really looked, then formed her mouth into a grim line. “Maxwell Campbell, I do believe you still owe me for some flowers that went missing from my garden about twelve years back. Give or take a summer or two.”

Max’s grimace said his memory clicked to a younger version of the woman before him. “You’re absolutely correct, Mrs. Hyatt. Those would be red roses and I believe they found their way over to Sophie Benedict’s house. I’ll be happy to make that up to you now with my apologies for the delay. And ask your forgiveness, of course.”

The look she settled on him said maybe that was okay, and maybe it wasn’t. “How long have you served our country, young man?”

“Over a decade.”

Her mouth softened. Her shoulders relaxed. “I’d say we’re more than even.” She clapped a hand to his shoulder, hometown pride showing in her eyes, her smile. “Welcome home, Max. I expect your parents are most pleased to have you here, and just in time to share the holidays together.”

“Yes, ma’am. My mom goes a little bit crazy over Thanksgiving and Christmas, that’s for sure. And about that saw?” He dropped his gaze to the chain saw in her arms.

Her face said she was inclined to wait until Earl’s arrival nearly three hours later.

“If you bring it to Dad’s tool bench, I’d be glad to have a look.”

“If you think you can.” She didn’t try to mask the dubious note in her voice. “It’s been a long time since you’ve worked with your dad.”

“True.” He led the way to Charlie’s well-lit bench and table at the back corner, a popular gathering place for small-town talk and broken tools. “But I remember a thing or two. And working for Uncle Sam taught me a few new tricks. Let’s see what’s going on.” He examined the pieces, then nodded. “We’ve got a bad clutch. Tina, does Dad carry parts for all models in the back or just current ones?”

His quiet confidence in his abilities lightened Tina’s angst. Working for the Campbells helped them and her, but with Charlie out of commission and Earl on limited hours, she’d been fielding a lot of questions with few answers the past two weeks. Maybe having Max around wouldn’t be so bad, not if he could actually make sense out of the more difficult hardware inquiries. “I’ll check and see. If we have to order it, we won’t get it until next Tuesday, Mrs. Hyatt. Is that all right?”

“Tuesday’s fine with me. Then would you be able to fix it right away?” she wondered. She hesitated, looking a little uncomfortable, then explained, “I hate to push, knowing what’s going on with your dad and all, but I promised my husband I’d get this fixed before wood-cutting season. Once the cold hits, he’ll take to the woods for next year’s heating supply, but he can’t cut without his saw. And with the Festival of Lights coming up, I’m going to have my hands full. I expect you’re taking that over for your father, as well?”

Max sent a blank look from her to Tina and back. “Festival of Lights? I’m not following you.”

“The annual Christmas lighting event we’ve been doing for years,” Mrs. Hyatt replied. “This year it’s the final big event of our bicentennial celebration,” she continued. “Your dad heads up the committee, we use the funds raised from the park drive-through to support the women’s shelter in Clearwater, and Tina and I handle the food venues with a bunch of volunteers. That money helps stock food pantries all year long. Joe Burns is helping.” She ticked off her fingers, listing familiar names. “The Radcliffes, Sawyers and Morgans are all on board, as well. We’ve got everything planned out, of course, because it starts soon, but no one knows how to do lighting grids as well as Charlie Campbell.”

* * *

One phrase stood out.

The Sawyers. Pete’s family, Tina’s neighbors on Upper Lake Road. Pete used to love ditching both his little sister, Sherrie, and Tina. He and Max would take their small boat out and go fishing or girl-watching. When they were young, fishing took precedence. By the time they finished high school?

Partying had replaced fishing for Pete.

Regret speared Max. He shelved it purposely. He’d come back to help and make amends. Right now, helping took precedence, even if it meant coming face-to-face with Pete’s family sooner rather than later.

Business owners were taking advantage of today’s nice weather to hang festive garland. Town crews had manned a cherry-picker truck to string lights through Main Street trees, and decorated wreaths marked each old-fashioned light pole. Like it or not they were two weeks shy of Thanksgiving and the town was knee-deep in a project that depended on Charlie’s calm help and expertise.

“I’ll talk to my dad and see what I can do to help. We’ll cover it, Mrs. Hyatt. No worries.”

Her sigh of relief said he’d answered correctly. “And you’re okay with me coming by next Wednesday to pick up the saw?”

“I’ll put the part in as soon as it arrives,” Max promised. “If there’s any delay, we’ll give you a call.”

“That would be wonderful.” She watched as he filled out a tag with her name, gave him her phone number, then smiled, more relaxed than when she came into the store. “I expect you’ll both be at the final committee meeting Wednesday night?”

Special ops had prepared Max to tack with the prevailing wind, no matter what the mission. “Absolutely. When and where?”

“We used to have them at my café.” The resignation in Tina’s tone said her loss rubbed raw. “But Carmen Bianchi said we could meet in her apartment behind Vintage Place instead. Seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be there,” Max promised. “And we’ll be ready to implement Dad’s action plan, Mrs. Hyatt.”

“Good!” Her smile said his confidence appeased her concerns. Which meant he hadn’t lost his touch, but if he was coming face-to-face with the Sawyers in a few days, and expected to run this light show thing, he needed to get his mental ducks in a row. Fast.

Max watched Mrs. Hyatt walk out the door, then took the broken saw to the second bench. “I know Dad always puts them in back in the order they come in, but I don’t want to forget my promise to her.”

“Seeing it is a good reminder,” Tina replied. “And the back room is kind of crowded right now anyway.” She greeted someone, then waved another pair of customers upstairs to the “country store” shop, another one of his mother’s ideas. Fifteen years ago, folks had kind of ridiculed the idea of a home shop in a hardware store, but no one scoffed now. Campbell’s “Country Cove” on the second floor did enough winter business to pay the bills and record a profit, a huge plus in northern towns.

When Tina came back to the front, Max indicated the door and Mrs. Hyatt’s retreating back with a quick glance. “What have you been doing the past few weeks when customers like that came in? Did you send them elsewhere?”

“Come with me.” Tina led him into the back room, threaded a path through the overstock and the glass-cutting corner, then waved toward Charlie’s equipment fix-it zone for larger repairs. “This is what Earl’s been working on this past week when he was healthy enough to be here.”

Max counted eighteen separate tools in various stages of repair. “Are these due to be picked up soon?”

“Tomorrow. That’s our regular tool pickup day now.”

Tomorrow. Of course Earl was scheduled to work a one-to-five shift today, but that was a lot of fixing to do before they opened tomorrow morning. “Are the necessary parts available? Have they been delivered?”

“With the exception of Herb Langdon’s snowblower, yes. And I called and told him the part was on back order. Earl was out sick this week so all this stuff is here, waiting. Tomorrow morning we’ll have a bunch of people coming in to pick up tools that most likely won’t be ready.”

“So that’s why my mother came in yesterday.” Max made a face of realization. “Earl was sick.”

“And you know your mother. She said it was fine because your brothers took care of keeping Charlie company while she was here, but I could tell she was torn.”

“Luke and Seth aren’t exactly nursing material.” Max respected his older brothers, two decorated county sheriff’s deputies, but nursing care wasn’t their forte.

“He needs company more than care right now,” Tina answered. “And your mom needs to get out now and again. Catch her breath. You know.”

Max didn’t know any such thing. His mother was the most dedicated and loving person he’d ever met. The thought of her wanting to leave Charlie’s side seemed alien. “I expect she’d rather be with Dad. Just in case.”

The uncertainty in Tina’s expression said he might know tools but he’d just flunked Women 101. And that was somewhat surprising, because Max thought he knew women fairly well. But maybe not Kirkwood Lake women.

Despite Earl’s help that afternoon, by the time they locked the doors at five o’clock, there were still three lawn mowers, two leaf blowers, two power-washers and two log-splitters awaiting repair.

Earl held his knit cap in his hand, sheepish. “I shoulda knowed I wasn’t gonna get to all those with Charlie gone, Max. I can come in early tomorrow and help.” He slapped a hand to his head, then shook his head. “No, I’m wrong, Mavis is havin’ some eye thing done tomorrow mornin’ and I promised to drive her. If she breaks the appointment who knows how long it will take to get another. And she’d have my head for puttin’ her off.”

“Oh, those women,” Tina muttered, just out of Earl’s range of hearing.

Max fought a smile and sent Earl off. “I’ll stay late, see what I can do. Thanks for today, though, Earl. It was great working with you.”

“Same here.” Earl made his way to the door, paused, thought, then continued as if he’d never stopped at all. Tina watched him go before she faced Max.

“Do you want me to stay and help? If you show me what to do, I might be able to take some of the pressure off you.”

Assessing the number of tools and the variety of fixes, Max wished that were true, but— “It would take me longer to train you tonight than it would to fix them myself, but I appreciate the offer, Tina. And working with Earl today gave me a refresher course in small-engine repair.” He pointed to a stack of thin books alongside the bench. “I’ve got manuals for each of the models from the internet.” He shrugged, pulled on one of his dad’s sweatshirts from the rack behind the workroom bench and waved her on. “I’ll be fine. Not like I haven’t pulled double duty in my time.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I am. I’ll call Mom, tell her I’m running late. It’s all good.”

“All right. I’ll open in the morning, so if you need to sleep in, go ahead. I’ll have things covered.”

“Thanks. I just might do that.” He wouldn’t, but he appreciated the offer, just the same. In fact, looking at the work spread out before him, he wasn’t sure he’d make it home at all, but that was okay. Jenny and Charlie Campbell had rocked him to sleep at night, held him through a phase of unrelenting nightmares and ran him from town to town as he tore up soccer fields across the county. Staying up late to help them out?

Not a big deal at all.


Chapter Two (#ulink_40b526dd-3bc5-5f73-890b-5aa56212da5e)

Tina grabbed the hardware store door handle Monday morning, emotionally sorting through the scene she had just passed. A crew of uniformed firemen, sifting through the remains of her café, searching for evidence of arson. Tina shivered at the thought that anyone would deliberately burn a building, risk harming others and destroy property.

It couldn’t be true. Mild crime was unusual here in Kirkwood Lake. Felony crimes like arson? Assault?

Virtually unheard of.

The door swung open beneath her grip, and she stepped in cautiously, looking left and right. Had Max forgotten to lock up? That seemed unlikely for a guy who made his living completing surreptitious missions, but—

“Tina, is that you? I’ve got coffee back here. Come get some. If you drink coffee, that is.”

“I owned a café. I live on coffee. Gimme.” She reached for the cup as she entered the back room, then stopped, surprised. “Max. They’re all done. Every last one.”

The array of broken equipment had been put back together, each one tagged with the owner’s name and the cost of repair. They formed a pretty line along Charlie’s back-room bench, then marched across the work floor, ready to be loaded into vehicles from the rear loading dock. There would be no reckoning with angry customers, no putting folks off, no begging for more time, hoping people understood business limitations brought on by Charlie’s illness. “I can’t believe this.” Tina turned in a full circle, then stopped when she faced Max again. “You stayed all night.”

“Not the first time I’ve stayed late somewhere. Won’t be the last.” He brushed off the sacrifice like it was no big deal, and that almost made her like him. She’d had enough of guys who promised one thing, then did another. Max’s casual treatment of his sacrifice for his family touched too many of those empty-promise buttons. He directed his attention to the coffee cup. “I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got flavored creamers and regular. And sugar. And artificial sugar.”

“Covering all the bases.” The fact that he’d gone the distance for his parents surprised her. And that he’d provided for her despite his lack of sleep? Downright sweet of him. “Max, this is so nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hesitated a moment, coffee in hand, as if wanting to say something. Tina prodded him as she stirred hazelnut creamer into her cup. “And?”

His next words surprised her. Because it was old news or because the sympathy in Max’s voice rang with quiet sincerity? Maybe both.

“I didn’t realize your parents were gone, Tina.” His gaze showed regret. “I’m truly sorry.”

Max’s years away had wrought lots of local change. Losing her parents had become a big part of that “new normal.” She sighed. “Me, too.”

“And your aunt owns The Pelican’s Nest now?” He sipped his coffee and shifted his attention to the east window. The steep peak of the restaurant profile was just visible beyond the parking lot. “I would have thought they’d leave it to you. Or give it to you. Something for all those years of work you put in.”

“Well. They didn’t.”

“Because?”

She didn’t want to talk about this. She didn’t want to rehash old Martinelli news the whole town already knew. But Tina knew if she didn’t answer, he’d just ask his parents. It wasn’t like anything stayed a secret in a small town. “My aunt and uncle were in a position to buy in. They promised to let me manage the business. My father had developed a bad heart, a combination of genetics and smoking, and he needed to step down. Mom and Dad moved to Florida to escape the tough winters and my uncle booted me to the curb.”

“He fired you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, man.”

He was feeling sorry for her, and the expression on his face said he couldn’t understand family acting like that, treating each other that way. Well.

Neither could she. “It was a long time ago.”

“Yes. But then you opened a café there.” He indicated the burned-out shell visible through the west-facing window. “With their restaurant right here.” He turned back toward the window facing the parking lot and whistled lightly. “Gutsy.”

Tina made a face. “Gutsy, yes. And maybe a little mean.”

“Mean?” He put away a handful of small tools as he scrunched his forehead. “How can that be mean?”

“Because as my business grew, their customers dwindled,” Tina admitted. “And that made my uncle grumpier than usual, and he was pretty miserable already. That couldn’t have been fun for Aunt Laura and Ryan.”

He raised one absolutely gorgeous brow at the mention of her cousin’s name.

“My cousin. Their only child. And now my uncle’s dead, my aunt’s running the place on her own with half the help she needs, and raising a kid who’s hanging with a rough bunch from Clearwater. So maybe if I hadn’t been bullheaded and put my café right under their noses...”

“Where your success would be painfully obvious...”

She frowned. “Exactly. Maybe things would be different. Maybe we could actually be like a normal family. Like yours.”

“Ah.”

“You have so much to be grateful for, Max.”

His face said he knew that.

“So staying away, leaving your parents and brothers and sisters, shrugging them all off...” She set her coffee cup down and faced him. “I don’t get it. I’d give anything to have a family. My parents are gone, my mom died two years after my dad, I’ve got no brothers or sisters, and my one aunt won’t acknowledge me if we pass on the street. I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.”

Sympathy deepened his expression. “You know, I never thought of family in terms of temporary until Mom called me with Dad’s prognosis. Reality smacked me upside the head and said head home, soldier. But you’re right, Tina. I’ve got a lot to make up for, but standing and talking won’t do anything but put me to sleep this morning. I’m going to pull the last of those Christmas displays out of the shed and bring them in. I promised Mom we’d get them into place today.”

He wanted a change of subject. So did she. She turned, flipped the Closed sign to Open and turned the key in the door. “Bring ’em in, Max. I’ll be happy to help.”

“Thank you, Tina. I’d appreciate it.”

He was playing nice

His generosity rankled Tina more. After seeing investigators comb through the cold morning rubble of her beloved business, discussing her family’s casual disregard for each other was more unwelcome than usual. But Max would know nothing about that, because Campbells looked out for one another.

She took care of a handful of customers while Max built a Christmas lights display case in their seasonal corner. Once he had it firmly in place, she helped stock the wide range of holiday lighting kits.

“Doesn’t it seem early to be putting out Christmas stuff?”

Tina gaped at him, then laughed. “You’ve been in the army too long. The stores start shelving Christmas items as soon as their back-to-school displays are depleted. By mid-September, most places are stocked, lit up and ready to roll with holiday sales.”

“And Thanksgiving gets lost in the shuffle.” Max’s lament surprised her, because it was a feeling they shared.

“I love Thanksgiving,” she admitted. “I love the simplicity, the warmth, the food. Of course, I’m Italian, why wouldn’t I love the food?” The look she sent him made him smile, but his grin turned to understanding when she added, “The whole idea of an entire country, praying their thanks to God, regardless of faith. I just love it.”

“You know, it’s funny.” Max eased a hip onto the sales counter as he grabbed a bottle of water. “When you’re in the field on holidays, most of the guys seem to feel the loss of Thanksgiving more than any other.”

“More than Christmas?”

“Yeah. I might be wrong.” He shrugged, thinking. “Most soldiers get stuff at Christmas. Even the ones who don’t have family are hooked up with agencies that send care packages to deployed soldiers. But on Thanksgiving, there’s nothing but memories of what was. What could have been. What might be again. If you make it back. Maybe it was just me.” He stood, stretched and tossed his bottle into the recycling tote. “But I don’t think so.”

She’d never thought of it that way. She’d helped on Wounded Warrior projects, she’d arranged pickups for the Vietnam Veterans thrift shops, but she’d never thought about how lonely Thanksgiving must be when you’re thousands of miles away from anything American. “Hey, if you need to catch some sleep, head home. I’ve got this. Earl will be here in an hour and we’ll be all set.”

“I’ll leave once Earl’s here,” Max answered. He rolled his shoulders, stretched once more, and she did her best to ignore the amazing muscle definition formed by long years in the armed services. He moved to the front of the store. “I’m going to use the Cat to level the parking-lot stone. I can see where the water’s been puddling, and that won’t get any better once the snow hits.”

“Good.”

“And when I come back in, can you give me the lowdown on this festival thing we talked about yesterday? There’s not much time left, and I work better with a plan in my head.”

“From the looks of that back room, you do pretty well without a plan, too.” She didn’t say how she’d dreaded facing disappointed customers today, their expected equipment lying unfixed in the back room.

He shot her a grin over his shoulder. “Let’s see if they work before giving me too much credit.”

“You tested them, right?”

He ignored her question and kept on walking. Was he laughing? At her?

She finished the Christmas lights display as a customer arrived to pick up one of the newly fixed lawn mowers. When they wheeled their repaired machine out the back door, she felt a stab of pride. It might not be a big deal that Chuck Beadle was going to be able to give his yard a last mowing it didn’t really need, but it was important that their efforts to maintain Charlie and Jenny’s business as he fought his battle with cancer were successful. And without Max, it wouldn’t have happened, so she needed to give credit where credit was due.

Her cell phone signaled an incoming call. She pulled it out, saw the realty office number and picked up quickly. “Myra, good morning.”

“Hey, good morning to you, Tina! I’m emailing you a short list of potential sites for your café if you’re still thinking of Spencerport as your go-to place.”

“I am,” she replied. “That or Brockport.” She’d done her homework and these Erie Canal locations in Western New York had lots of potential. “They both have proximity to the expressway, and they’re on main-feeder corridor to other towns. What I want is a west-side-of-the-road location and a drive-through for those a.m. customers.”

“Did you have a drive-through in Kirkwood?” Myra asked.

“I was lakefront, so no, I didn’t. And we’re a destination spot, not a commuter town, so it’s a different configuration.”

“Won’t you miss the water?”

Miss the water?

Yeah, absolutely. But if she wasn’t willing to sacrifice something to change things up, nothing would ever happen, and that option didn’t cut it anymore. The time for change was here. Now. “Not if I have a view of the canal,” she promised. “Or at least proximity to it so folks can grab a cuppa, head for the canal walkway and stroll along the banks watching the boats. Those villages are a walker’s dream, so no. I won’t miss the water.”

It was an outright lie. She knew it, and she was pretty sure Myra’s silence said she recognized Tina’s resignation, but was kind enough not to call her on it.

Tina loved the water. She loved taking her little boat out on calm summer days. Dropping a line just off the docks outside the Kirkwood Lodge where perch and bass gathered in the heat of summer. She’d caught her share of fish that way, a sweet respite from work. Private time, time to think. And pray. And dream.

But her dreams were gone now. Ruined.

She promised Myra she’d look at the property listings in the email and get back to her. Another customer walked in, then another, and pretty soon she was too busy to think about smoldering dreams and ruined hopes. She’d promised herself she’d never get mired in the past again. She meant to keep that promise.

* * *

“I brought Beezer in to keep you company,” Jenny Campbell announced as she came through the back door of the shop a little later. “And I’m going to drag Max home to catch some sleep. I think that’s a good trade, don’t you, Tina?”

“Leave the dog and take Max?” Tina sent Max a look that said she approved fully. “I think I’m getting the better end of this deal.”

“Hey, Beeze.” As Tina moved their way, Max squatted low and gave the aging golden retriever a long belly rub the dog loved. “You missing the action, old boy?”

“He is.” Jenny tipped a mock frown down to the beloved pet. “I reminded him that his master is sick and good dogs stay by their master’s side.”

“They do in books,” Tina agreed. “But Beeze was raised in town. He likes to check out the hustle and bustle of the shop.”

“He’s restless if he’s home too much,” Jenny admitted. “When I let him out, he starts prowling the yard as if looking for a way down to the village. I’m afraid he’ll wander close to the road and won’t hear a car coming around the bend.”

“Well, he can keep an eye on Tina if I’m heading home.” Max grabbed his bomber jacket from the back hook as Earl finished up with a customer. The thought of a few hours of sleep sounded real good now. “You guys will be okay?”

“Tina will boss me around, and I’ll answer any fix-it questions that arise.” Earl’s wry tone said he was only partially kidding. “Same old, same old.”

“Women are bossy creatures.” Max smiled at the older man, then turned his attention to Tina. “We never did talk about the festival thing. My bad. It got busy and—”

“Max, we can’t expect you to do the festival, too.” Jenny frowned as she caught the gist of the conversation. “That’s not fair. You came home to have time with Dad. If we keep you working day and night, then—”

“We’ll make time for both, I promise. I managed to run a unit with a lot of guys and barely got my hands dirty, Mom. I’m good at delegating. But first I need to know what’s going on.” He turned back to Tina. “I don’t suppose you have time to come over tonight and go over things? That way we could have Mom and Dad’s input, too.”

“You can have supper with us.” Jenny’s face said inviting Tina to supper made everything better. Max wasn’t so sure Tina would agree now that he was on hand, but she’d been civil all day, and that was a sweet improvement. Of course they’d been busy from the moment they unlocked the doors, so maybe the key to keeping Tina happy was keeping her busy.

“I’ll come over once we close up,” Tina promised. “And I’ll bring Beeze along. That way he’s got the best of both worlds.”

“Thank you, Tina.” When Jenny gave Tina a big old hug, Max realized their relationship had grown close over his years away. His mother’s next words confirmed it.

“I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Jenny’s voice stopped short of saying she wanted Tina to stay right here in Kirkwood, but the inflection was clear.

Tina winked as she headed for the register area. “Back at ya. Gotta go. Mrs. Lana is here for her leaf blower, and last night’s killing frost means she’ll be really glad to have it back, especially with snow in the late-week forecast.”

“I love this.” Max stopped at the back door and swept the town center a long, slow look of appreciation. “The old town buildings. The lake. The decorations that look like an old New England village. Now that I’m home and see it all again, I realize how much I missed it.”

Jenny looped her arm through his as they went through the back doorway. “Always something to miss, no matter where we are. But I’m glad you’re here, that I don’t have to run down the coast to see you. As fun as that is, I prefer having you home for a while. And I’m making your favorite dinner, so once you’ve gotten some sleep, I intend to fatten you up.”

“A mother’s prerogative.” Max yawned as he moved toward his upgraded sports car. “It feels good to be home.”

* * *

Tina watched him pull away from inside the store.

He drove a muscle car, a total chick magnet. He flashed those big brown eyes and that smile like it was nothing, nothing at all. And every now and again he’d watch her, as if appraising.

Was he comparing the old her with the new?

And if so, what did he see? And why did it matter to her?

Sherrie Morgan breezed through the front door a few minutes later. “The promised cold snap has arrived,” she noted as the screen door bumped shut behind her. “And tell me if the 4-1-1 is right. Max Campbell is back and unattached? Girlfriend, this is not news anyone should keep to themselves unless, of course, one really, truly wants to keep it to herself?”

Tina retrieved the last repaired lawn mower and cautioned Sherrie with a look. “He is back, yes, to help his parents. Sherrie, come on, you know the situation. They’re delighted to have him here and I’m pleased to have someone with hardware knowledge on hand. I was totally in over my head last week. But you know Max as well as anyone. Here today, gone tomorrow.”

“Oh. Ouch. Unfair.” Sherrie picked out three boxes of Christmas lights, paused, then added a fourth to her stack. “He was eighteen,” Sherrie reminded her. “And people react to sadness differently. I think back to that day, losing Pete and Amy, and for years I kept wondering what I could have done differently. If I’d been less pesky, less bothersome, would they have stayed at home? Hung out by the campfire? Maybe knowing there’d be a kid sister around later pushed them to take the boat out. Have some romantic boyfriend/girlfriend time.”

“Sherrie—”

“I know it wasn’t my fault.” Sherrie brushed off Tina’s protest with a shrug. “I’m all grown up now, I know people make choices every day, and that I was just a normal kid, pestering her big brother and wishing I was as pretty as Amy with her long blond hair and those big blue eyes. And then they were gone, and it left such a hole. But just because Max didn’t come around doesn’t make him a bad person, Tina. He might have been older than us, but he was still a kid who’d just lost his best friend. And that couldn’t have been easy.”

Sherrie’s argument made perfect sense, but Sherrie hadn’t done a decade-long disappearing act after college. Max had. And Tina was done with capricious men, even if her heart managed to skip a beat every time Max walked into a room. Clearly hearts knew nothing and were not to be trusted. End of story.

“So you’re working together.” Sherrie ended the sentence on a note of question, hunting for an informational update. Tina gave her a look that said nothing interesting was happening. Or would happen.

“Of necessity. Jenny and Charlie need help. Max and I are available. Simple math, one plus one and all that.”

“Except you had a crush on him all through high school,” Sherrie mused as she pulled out her debit card. “Honey, when God plants your dream right in front of you, I think it’s an invitation to grab hold. See where life leads.”

“I know exactly where my life is heading, thanks.” Tina patted the thin stack of computer printouts. “These are possible café sites near the Erie Canal. Not so far away that I can’t visit, but far enough to wipe the slate clean, Sherrie. And that’s something I desperately need. A new beginning, a fresh start.”

“And you’ve prayed about this, chatted it up with God, right?”

“I think the fire was a good sign that my time in Kirkwood has come to a close,” Tina told her while ignoring the fact she’d done no such thing. A thin ribbon of guilt tweaked her. “If you’re looking for signs, that one was pretty direct.”

Sherrie tucked her debit card back into her purse once Tina ran it through, but refused to be dissuaded. “If someone did set that fire, that’s no message from God, Tina. That’s a depraved act of humanity and shouldn’t go unpunished. And folks around here rebuild after disaster all the time. Look what happened after the floods last year. And those blizzards that took out three old barns? We’re rebuilders. We don’t give up. And I don’t even want to think about you being more than two hours away. We’ve been besties forever, so yes, selfishly, I want you here when my baby comes. Babies should have their godmothers close by, don’t you think?”

“You’re pregnant?” Delight coursed through Tina. Sherrie and her husband had been hoping for a child for years. With two sad outcomes behind them, a well-set pregnancy seemed almost impossible. But a tiny prick of envy niggled the rise of joy, because Tina had thought her life would be on a similar track by now. Married. A cute kid or two. Maybe a dog like Beezer, loving and easygoing. Surging happiness displaced the twinge of envy, and she grabbed her best friend in a big hug. “Tell me when.”

“In less than five months,” Sherrie said. “We kept it quiet until we were far enough along to be more confident, so in four and a half months, I’ll need your help. But you can’t help me if you’re so far away.”

Sherrie was right. She’d be little help from that distance, and starting a new business took a level of dedication that went beyond the norm. She remembered her early days with the café, long, tedious days, keeping overhead down while working to build business up. That meant lots of personal man-hours.

Was she ready to do that again?

The morning’s image cropped up once more, the firemen, sifting through the ashes, their movements kicking up the smell of old, wet, burned wood, a hunk of ugly set in the middle of the season of light.

What if this person was targeting her personally?

She knew the investigators were checking out Sol Rigby to see if he had a reason to torch his own place, but Tina doubted that. Sol was frugal, and he didn’t look well-off, but Tina was pretty sure the old guy was doing okay financially. Which meant he had no reason to want insurance money.

The realization that they would investigate her hit hard. They would check her financials, and while not great, they weren’t bad, either. And no way would she do such a thing.

But clearly the investigators thought someone had purposely burned down her place. The question was who? And why?

“I know the arson investigators talked to your aunt today. And I know this because Jim was with them,” Sherrie offered as if she’d read where her thoughts had wandered. “He didn’t repeat anything that was said, but he said it was a tough interview.”

“My café hurt her business.”

Sherrie nodded. “Which might be motive enough to get it out of the way.”

“Aunt Laura would never do that. Rocco, maybe.” Memories of her uncle’s temperamental tirades hit hard, but Rocco was gone, and Laura wasn’t the hurtful type. She was more mouse than lion and Rocco had taken advantage of that for years. “I know they’re in a tight spot. Rocco didn’t believe in life insurance so Laura and Ryan got left with nothing but a failing business and a stack of bills.”

“Well, he wasn’t the sort to look out for his family,” Sherrie replied. “Which means Laura’s trying to run the place alone because Ryan is no help. Jim said that bunch of boys from Clearwater are a tough group. They’re old enough to drive and he’s sneaking out to hang out with them. Laura’s so busy trying to do things on her own, no one’s watching the kid. And that means trouble’s on the way.”

Talking about this made Tina tired. She’d run the scenario through her head countless times, and had come up with nothing good. All the more reason to start anew somewhere else. She hated drama and avoided it at all costs, but burned-out businesses came with their own spectacle of tragedy.

“Right now let’s focus on this baby. Do we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“A boy.” Sheer delight said Sherrie was more than okay with the change of subject. “We found out today. Jim wanted to be surprised, but I said uh-uh. I wanted to know so I can give him the coolest little kid bedroom ever.”

“And Jim said, ‘Whatever you want, honey.’”

“Exactly!” Sherrie laughed and moved outside where Earl was loading the snowblower into the back of her pickup truck. “We’ll talk soon. Don’t make any rash moves, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“See you later.”

Excitement colored everything about Sherrie today. Her tone, her face, her eyes. And Tina was overjoyed for her friend. She understood the struggles Sherrie had faced, and now she’d pray for a happy ending, a beautiful healthy baby boy for Sherrie and Jim to hold and feed and do all that other stuff one must do with babies.

She and Sherrie had grown up together. Their family homes had been right next to each other. They’d shared classes together, dance instructors and soccer teams. She’d been Sherrie’s maid of honor five years ago, and Sherrie had a rose chiffon bridesmaid dress collecting dust in her closet from Tina’s short-lived engagement a few years after that. Evan Veltre had decided tall, buxom and raven-haired was more his style. Dumping her mid-engagement made her previous boyfriend’s infidelity seem mild by comparison. At least they hadn’t been engaged when the blonde caught his eye.

A niggle of sensibility tweaked her.

Had she been hurrying the process, wanting to fall in love? Had she been trying to fit the guy, rather than letting God’s timing take charge?

The pinch of common sense was nudged by a twinge of guilt. She did like to make her own path, chart her own course, a charge-ahead kind of woman in many ways. Sherrie had asked if she’d turned to prayer.

She hadn’t, not really. Was she too busy, too independent to trust God?

Beezer whined and pawed the door, ready to go. Tina drew a breath, switched off the lights, activated the alarm and went out the door with the big, gold dog ambling alongside her.

Wind tunneled down Main Street, tumbling the last of autumn’s leaves. They scurried along the street, pushed by the stiff breeze, gathering in curves and hollows.

Soon it would snow. And they’d continue to decorate the town in beautiful light, a beacon of Christmas hope and cheer. And once again she’d spend Christmas alone, no family, no beloved, no kids.

Beezer pushed his head up under her arm.

He wanted her to pet him. Talk to him. So she did just that on the drive to the Campbell house, happy that no one could see her talking with the big yellow dog, but more glad of his trusting company.

If nothing else crazy occurred in her life this year, she was determined to get herself a dog. Maybe.

Beezer yipped softly, as if telling her she didn’t need another dog, she could still share him. If she stayed.

And there was the crux of the problem. A big part of Tina didn’t want to stay and face past failures anymore.


Chapter Three (#ulink_45741446-1ed2-5f28-bb7c-689207eb0fd3)

“Hey, Beeze.” Max swung down from the elevated boathouse as Tina rounded the corner of the Campbell house at half past six. He looked sports-channel-commercial-friendly in easy-cut jeans and a long-sleeved Pittsburgh Pirates sweatshirt.

“Did you keep an eye on things, old fella?” He stooped and ruffled the dog’s neck, rubbing Beeze’s favorite spot beneath the wide collar. “All good?” He looked up at her as he asked the question, and the sight of him, caring for the aging dog, looking all sweet and concerned and amazingly good-looking...

She took three seconds to put her heart back in normal sinus rhythm mode. “Everything went fine. Dozens of happy customers picking up their tools and buying fixer-upper stuff to get ready for the holidays.” She frowned as Beeze headed for the water, though she knew she had nothing to worry about. Beeze was a country dog and his daily swim was an old habit now. “He’ll smell like wet dog all night.”

“I’ll put him on the porch. Dad’s gotten sensitive to smells. The chemo, I guess. He says nothing smells right anymore.”

“Will it get better when he’s done?”

Max’s expression said he wasn’t sure anything would get better, ever. Seeing that, her heart softened more.

“Hope so.” Max headed for the house. “Come on in. Beeze will join us once he’s done with his swim.”

Tina knew that. She’d spent an increasing amount of time at the Campbell house over the past decade. Charlie and Jen were good at taking in strays, and when her family had fallen apart, they’d jumped right in. She’d spent holidays here, preserved food with Jenny during the summer, and when Seth Campbell spotted her café on fire a few weeks back from his house across the road, he’d called 9-1-1 and his parents.

They’d helped her then.

She’d help them now. And she’d have done it for no pay, but Charlie wouldn’t hear of it. A true fatherly type, he understood cash was finite in a week-to-week existence, and he insisted on paying her for her time. “You know, if you’re too tired, we can go over this stuff in the morning. I know you’ve had a long day.”

“Except we could really use the light guy’s take on all this.” Max’s nod toward the door said Charlie’s input was key.

“Is he up to it?”

“Let’s ask him.” Max swung the porch door wide and waited while she stepped in. The smell of roast chicken chased away any pale arguments she might have raised about staying for dinner. She used to grab quick food as she prepared orders at the café. She’d never worried about cooking or grocery shopping at home because she ate on the job. Now?

Truth to tell, she’d been barely eating at all. The realization smacked her upside the head as she crossed to Charlie’s big recliner. “Hey, there. We had a great day today, thanks to Max’s overnight efforts.”

“Yeah?” Charlie’s smile was a thin portrait of the one they knew so well. Tiredness dogged his eyes. “Max and Earl got all that stuff fixed?”

“We did. And how about we have you move into the living room, Dad, because when Beeze comes in from the lake, he’s going to smell pretty bad. I’ll leave him outside for a while, but then I’ll tuck him on the porch. If that’s all right.”

“I can towel him off when he’s done with his swim,” Tina added. “Then he can curl up by the heater. He and I are used to this routine.”

“Are you now?” Max lobbed an old towel her way from the stack they kept inside the back door. “You’re elected, then. Need a hand, Dad?”

“I wouldn’t mind one.” Charlie huffed as he pressed his hands against the wide arms of the chair. He pushed down hard, but paused midway to catch his breath.

Max didn’t fuss, he didn’t act the least bit concerned or surprised, which told her he was skilled at pretense, and that wasn’t something women put in the plus column. She’d had her share of guys who pretended to be happy. Never again. Still, his calm demeanor and strong arm beneath his father’s elbow allowed Charlie the extra support he needed, and Max’s matter-of-fact manner kept the moment drama-free. “Do you want to eat at the table or in the family room? There’s an eight-o’clock game on ESPN.”

“Who’d you say was playing?”

Tina sucked a breath. Charlie Campbell knew sports like no other. He loved catching games on TV, and he’d installed a TV in the hardware store so he could catch Pittsburgh throughout both seasons, baseball and football. He’d been celebrating their growing success all year. Before chemotherapy muddled his mind, Charlie would never forget what game was on, who’d scored the most points or who landed on the disabled list.

But he had.

He passed a hand across his forehead as he settled into the firm family-room chair. “They said I might forget stuff.”

“It appears they were right,” Max teased. “But Dad, that’s normal for chemo. And it all comes back later.”

Charlie stared at Max, stared right at him with a look that said too much, but then he shrugged, playing along. “That’ll be good.”

Tina’s heart sank. For just a moment, she read the realization in Max’s eyes, his face-off with the grim reality of a new timeline, but then he leaned in, hugged his father and backed off. “I’ll bring you a tray, okay?”

Charlie’s face paled further, and Tina hadn’t thought that was possible. She touched Max’s arm to draw his attention to “Plan B.” “Or Charlie and I could just sit and talk while you guys eat,” she offered brightly. “I’ll fill him in on store stuff and pick his brain about the festival of lights.”

“Since I want to be in on that conversation, I bet Mom won’t mind if we hold off supper for a few minutes while we figure this out. Great idea, Tina.”

His praise warmed her. His expression said he recognized her ploy and approved. It was clear that Charlie didn’t want food, and despite the great smells emanating from Jenny Campbell’s kitchen, Tina didn’t mind waiting. Not if it helped Charlie.

* * *

Max set a side chair alongside Tina’s in the family room and took a seat. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her purse. “Charlie, can you give us a quick overview of your normal festival timeline? Max has offered to help, but he hasn’t been here since this tradition started.”

Ouch. Salt in the wound... Max angled her a look she ignored.

“I’ve got some notes on my laptop. I’ll have Mom get you the file,” Charlie promised Max, but then added, “Thing is, I go my own way most times, and your mother told me I should write stuff down, but I was stubborn—”

A distinct cough from the kitchen said Jenny heard and agreed.

“So some of this I just roll with as it happens.”

“Tell me those parts, Dad, then I can roll with it in your place.”

Charlie explained the contracted light display in the park and the circle of lights surrounding the lake supplied by year-round home-owners and lakeshore businesses. A few cottage owners came back in December, too, solely to set up light displays at their summer homes. “The Kirkwood Lady takes dinner cruises around the lake after Thanksgiving,” he added. “It only holds three dozen diners, so it gets booked up fast, but it’s a sight to see, the boat, all lit up, circling the lake, surrounded by Christmas lights.”

The image painted a pretty picture. The big boat, all decked out, surrounded by a ring of lights, trolling the lake’s perimeter.

Max had been raised on the water. He’d learned how to fish, catch bait, water-ski and swim, all along the shores of Kirkwood Lake. But since the Sawyer family tragedy, and with the exception of army-related maneuvers, he’d purposely stayed on land. Losing his best friend, knowing what led up to that tragic night and how he might have prevented the heartbreak that followed, spoiled the beauty of lakeshore living.

As Tina jotted down information about the contracted lighting company, Charlie’s eyes drifted shut.

“Supper’s ready.” Jenny walked into the room, saw Charlie and didn’t hide the look of concern quite quick enough.

“We tuckered him out.” Tina stood, leaned over, kissed Charlie’s forehead, then moved toward the kitchen as if Charlie’s slumber was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t, and Max felt funny leaving his father sleeping in the chair, worn from the influx of medications. He hesitated and remained seated. “I could just sit with him while he sleeps.”

Jenny shifted her attention from son to husband and back, then she crossed the room, took Max’s arm and drew him up. “He’d feel bad if you skipped eating, and the smell of food doesn’t sit well with him now, so come to the kitchen, eat with us, and then you can sit with him. The doctors told us to expect this, all of this.” The wave of her hand included Charlie’s tiredness, his lack of appetite, aversion to smells and the loss of hair. “Though telling us didn’t prepare me for the reality of watching him struggle.” She hugged Max’s arm as they moved into the kitchen he’d loved as a youth. “We’ll take each day as it comes. I’m so glad you’re here to help out, Max. I truly don’t know what I would have done without you. Just having you at the store with Tina has taken such a load off his mind. Last night was the first peaceful night’s sleep he’s had since his diagnosis a few weeks ago. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

Her affirmation confirmed two things for Max. First, he’d made the right decision in coming home. Second? He’d waited far too long, and if God allowed do-overs Max would be at the front of the line, begging. But for now he’d do what he could, when he could, making things easier for his parents. Yes, it meant he’d have to face the past—

And sooner or later he’d run into someone from the Sawyer family. Wanting to take charge of the situation, he decided to make the trip to the Sawyer house a priority. Knock on the door, walk in and talk to Pete’s parents. Would they hate him for not stopping Pete from taking the boat that night?

Maybe. And they’d be justified in feeling that way. But owning his part in his friend’s accident was the right move to make. And way overdue.

* * *

“That was amazing.” Tina glanced at the messed-up dinner table and made a face. “I think I ate half that pan of chicken and biscuits. Which means you two didn’t get enough, and while that should make me feel guilty, I’m too happy and full to apologize properly.”

“Not eating right lately?”

Max’s question made her squirm because she wasn’t looking for sympathy or someone to watch over her. She’d just been downright hungry and Jenny was a great cook.

Downright hungry? I’d go with ravenous. Quick, there’s one last biscuit. Don’t let it get away!

“You don’t know this, but we had a fire once, Tina, a long time ago.” Jenny leaned forward, hands folded. “Charlie and I were newlyweds, living in an apartment in Clearwater. We were saving like crazy to buy a house of our own. Our oldest son, Marcus, was a baby and we’d broken the smoke alarm. I meant to buy a new one, but it was winter, Marcus had a bad cold and I didn’t get out to the stores.

“A space heater in the apartment below us caught fire. Dad was working for the town, and he’d been called in to run the road plows. Marcus woke up to eat.” She frowned, glanced down and clenched her hands tighter. “I wouldn’t have known there was a fire if that baby hadn’t been hungry. What if he hadn’t woken up? Already the smoke was coming through the vents and the heat ducts. I grabbed Marcus and a big coat and some blankets for him, and we got outside, but for weeks afterward, all Dad and I could think was what if he hadn’t woken up? There was no smoke detector, and we knew it. I could barely live with myself, Tina, imagining what-ifs. I couldn’t eat and I don’t think I slept for more than minutes at a time. It was crazy.”

Tina had been doing exactly the same thing. Not eating, barely sleeping. But she’d spent so long pretending everything was okay in her world that having someone—even Jenny Campbell, mother extraordinaire—recognize her weaknesses seemed to put her at risk.

“For once Marcus’s demanding personality did us some good.” Max’s joke eased the moment, but Jenny didn’t let it go. She reached a hand over to Tina’s and said, “Charlie and I will support whatever decisions you make, but we want you to know how much we love having you in Kirkwood. We’ll do whatever it takes to help you reestablish your business if you decide to do that here. Now, I know you’re thinking of starting over elsewhere, so I’m not saying this to pressure you,” she added as she stood. “But we wanted you to know we’re on your side, Tina.”

Jenny’s promise of help during this time of personal struggle should have made Tina feel good.

It didn’t.

She didn’t want to be torn. She didn’t want to weigh options or decisions or pros and cons. She didn’t want to talk to God about it, or waste more time than was absolutely necessary.

She just wanted to leave. Put it all behind her and go, brushing the dust of her family-less hometown off her feet like Jesus directed the disciples to do. She didn’t want to think about broken engagements, loss of family and burned-out businesses. She wanted a clean slate, a new beginning.

Alone? You really want to start all over, someplace else? Absolutely alone?

Jenny’s sincerity made Tina’s decision to pull up stakes and leave town seem less inviting.

Beezer whined at the door. Jenny started to turn, but Tina raised her hand. “I promised Max I’d towel him off when he was ready to come in. I’ll get him, Jenny.”

“Thank you. I’m so distracted lately that I’m afraid I’ll forget to take care of him while I’m helping Dad.”

Tina grabbed her hoodie and went out the front porch door. She toweled Beezer off, then brought him into the warmth of the enclosed porch. “Here you go, old buddy.” She switched the radiant heater on and laid one of Beeze’s favorite worn blankets on the floor.

“You have done this before.”

Approval softened the deep timbre of Max’s tone. He stepped down onto the porch and reached low to pet Beezer. “He was little more than a pup when I joined the service.”

“Yup.”

“He’s gotten old.”

“That’ll happen.” She couldn’t sugarcoat things for him. Sure, he was devoted to the service, to making rank, to moving up, but he’d stayed away on purpose. And that was inexcusable.

“I wish I’d been here.”

His honest admission defused her resentment. She expected him to make excuses, to launch a well-prepared defensive explaining his choices and lauding his service.

He did no such thing. He just sank down onto the floor and petted the old dog’s head silently.

She didn’t know what to say, what to do. He’d surprised her. She’d spent years wishing she had a family like this, a family that clung together through thick and thin, while Max had brushed them off.

But she hadn’t expected outright, blatant honesty. Hearing his regret said she might have been too harsh in her initial assessment.

“Do you have a dog, Tina?”

She’d never had any pets. Why was that? she wondered, seeing the love bond reignite between Max and Beeze. “I don’t, no.”

“But you’re so good with him.” Max tipped his head back and looked at her, and there it was again, that glimmer of assessment, appraisal. “Like you’re born to love animals.”

“I get my share of loving when I come over here,” she told him. She stood, gathered her purse and slung it over her shoulder crosswise. “That’s plenty. It’s tough to give an animal all the love and care it needs when you’re working all the time.”

His nod said he understood.

His eyes said something different altogether.

But no matter what Max thought, Tina understood the motivations behind her singular actions. When everything you’ve ever loved...or thought you loved...went away, alone was just plain better.

* * *

Max’s cell phone buzzed him awake in the middle of the night. He answered it quietly, not wanting to disturb his parents, but knowing it must be important for his brother Seth to place a call at that hour. “What’s up? Do you need help? I can be there in five minutes.”

“Only if you break all the speed limits, and yes, I need you here. Now.”

Max was half-ready before his brother placed the request. “Are you okay? Is it the babies? What’s going on?”

“My family’s fine,” Seth assured him.

Max breathed a sigh of relief. Seth’s wife, Gianna, had given birth to fraternal twins in early summer. Mikey and Bella were the sweetest things God ever put on the planet, and he’d felt a fierce shot of protective love when he’d met them for the first time the week before.

“Someone was snooping around the remains of Tina’s place on the water, then cut through the pass between the church and the hardware store. I’d just finished feeding Mikey and saw a flash of movement at the edge of the light. I don’t think he or she knows they’ve been spotted.”

“I’m on my way.”

Max bolted for the car once he’d quietly closed the kitchen door to the side entrance. He started the engine, backed out of his parents’ drive slowly, then picked up speed as he cruised toward the village at the northern point of Kirkwood Lake. In town, he drove past the hardware store as if it was perfectly normal for traffic to pass through Kirkwood in the middle of the night. He turned right onto Overlook Drive, passed Seth’s house deliberately, then let the car glide to a silent stop. He turned the engine off, slipped from the driver’s seat and leaned the door shut. If anyone was still around, he didn’t want to ruin the false sense of security he’d just created.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly. He spotted Seth’s unmoving frame at the far edge of his carriage-style garage. Max walked around the garage, hoping Seth recognized his maneuver. When Seth melded back into the shadows on the far side of the angled garage, Max knew he understood. They met up on the farthest, darkest edge of the building. “Have you seen him again?”

Seth shook his head. “No. But I’ve been watching to see if he came back.”

“Was he at the hardware store? Do you think someone’s trying to break in? Or set another fire?”

Backlit by the outside house lights, Max couldn’t see Seth’s face, but he read the consternation in his tone. “I’m not sure. It seemed the original intent was to find something in the ashes of the café.”

“This person was crawling through a roped-off crime scene?”

“Yes.”

Max could only think of one reason why anyone would grope their way through the ashes of Tina’s cafe in the middle of the night: to find something that might incriminate them. “Man? Woman? Child?”

“No way to tell. Too far and too dark. But whoever it was moved quick and light.”

“Probably a woman or a kid.”

“I hate to think either,” Seth admitted, “but that was my gut reaction, too.”

“I’ll go the long way around the store, circling the outside of the church and the cemetery behind,” Max said. He clicked his watch to mark time. “In four minutes you come around the front to the back entrance of Dad’s store. I’ll flash my pen from the edge of the cemetery woods. And we’ll go in together.”

“You packing?” Seth wondered aloud.

“Always.” Skill with handguns had become intrinsic to Max years ago. Going through life armed and ready was second nature now.

“Just don’t shoot me, okay?”

“It is dark,” Max whispered as he slipped along the back of the garage, then into the shadows of the tree-lined street. Strewn leaves would have marked his presence on a dry night, but the late-day rain silenced his movement. He slipped along the front edge of the graveyard, then through the forested southern border. If this person was targeting area businesses to burn, or searching to remove incriminating evidence, Max was going to make sure he or she didn’t get any farther than Dad’s hardware store parking lot. Unless they’d already made their way home, wherever that was, and in that case, they’d let the authorities figure it out. Right now, with Seth covering his back, Max knew he was in the driver’s seat.

“Stop right there.”

Max froze.

“I’ve already called the police, and if you move, I’ll—”

“Tina?” He turned, hands up, and peered into the trees. “Where are you?” he whispered. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Max?”

If there’d been time or if he was sure she wasn’t pointing a gun at his back, he’d have banged his head against one of the nearby trees in frustration. As it was, he held perfectly still until he made out her shape—well, half her shape—behind one of the sprawling maples planted nearly eighty years before. For one split second he wondered if it had been Tina that Seth had spotted in the rubble...but it couldn’t have been.

Could it?

Why would Tina be snooping around the ruins of her burned-out café, the place she loved so much?

She’s pretty anxious to leave this town behind. Anxiety can push people to do things they’d never do normally.

“I saw someone,” she whispered as she crept through the trees.

Tina lived in an upstairs apartment on Overlook Drive, kitty-corner from Seth’s house. Her front windows overlooked Kirkwood Lake and Main Street. At this point, Max was actually surprised they hadn’t been joined by a cast of thousands, which was just as likely as having four people roaming Main Street in Kirkwood in the dead of night. “What did you see?”

“Someone moving around the timbers of the café.”

“And do you make it a habit of being up in the middle of the night, checking out Main Street?”

“I didn’t used to,” she retorted, and he didn’t have to listen hard to hear the sting in her voice. “I used to sleep soundly. And then someone burned down my business, and I’m lucky I sleep at all. And at this point, the three hours I got tonight will probably be it, because how can I crawl back into bed and fall asleep after all this?”

Jenny’s words rushed back, how she’d lost sleep and her appetite in the aftermath of an accidental fire as a young mother. How much worse must it be to think you were targeted?

Tina pointed west toward Seth’s house. “I woke up and saw Seth’s lights on. I worried that one of the babies might be sick. When he came creeping outside, I knew something was up. I looked further and saw something. Someone,” she corrected herself, “moving through the remains of the café.”

“Doesn’t anyone sleep around here anymore?” Seth’s voice entered the conversation from the near side of the church parking lot.

“It appears not.” Max decided the time for subterfuge was over. He flicked the flashlight of his cell phone on. “Tina saw someone, too.”

“She did, huh?” Seth moved forward, frowned, then yawned. “Well, between the three of us, we’ve managed to give away any tiny advantage we might have had. Max, did you see anything?”

“Other than Tina? No.”

He directed the light toward her. She flushed.

“Me, neither. So whoever it was didn’t hang around tonight, but I don’t like that he or she hightailed it up here toward Dad’s store when he thought he’d been spotted.”

“Me, neither. I could start sleeping here. Add an ounce of Fort Bragg protection to the local mix.”

“Mom would go crazy with that. And Dad would worry, and the last thing we want to do is make Dad worry.”

“No argument there. So what do we do?”

“For now, go home.” Tina offered the suggestion as she turned back toward Overlook Drive. “Although the likelihood of getting more sleep is pretty much impossible now.”

“Because?” Max left the comment open-ended, hoping for the right answer. She supplied it, and wasted no time doing it.

“There’s only one reason someone would be poking around the ashes of my hard work,” she answered quickly, and he read the thick emotion in her voice. “And that’s because they’re looking for evidence that puts them at the scene of the fire. Which means the supposition of arson just became a reality in my head.”


Chapter Four (#ulink_7920269a-22c4-5f44-bc08-bcac6d321acd)

She looked like someone had just stolen her best friend, her favorite toy and her puppy all at once. A sheen of tears brightened her eyes, and Max resisted the pull for sympathy until her chin quivered.

That did it.

He reached out and gathered her in for a hug. Tina’s expression reflected the very emotions his mother had shared over supper. Fear. Questioning. Guilt. Remorse.

Not eating.

Not sleeping.

Barely existing.

He hugged her close, letting her cry against his shoulder. He heard Seth slip off into the shadows, retracing his steps back home. When the tears paused, he looped an arm around her shoulders and headed for the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m walking you home.”

“This is the long way,” she whispered, then scrubbed the arm of her sweatshirt across her face, total tomboy. “No tissues.”





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