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A Gift of Family
Mia Ross


WHO IS THIS WOUNDED WARRIOR?A man with secrets, ex-soldier Seth Hansen comes to the small town of Harland, North Carolina, to heal. The last thing he wants is to get involved—with the community, or with lovely waitress Lisa Sawyer, who has big dreams of leaving Harland.When a massive storm hits, it’ll take a dramatic rescue, and Lisa’s unshakable belief, to wake a part of Seth he thought he’d lost forever. Suddenly one reluctant hero finds himself captivated by Christmas spirit. If only he can help Lisa discover the place she really wants to be…







Who Is This Wounded Warrior?

A man with secrets, ex-soldier Seth Hansen comes to the small town of Harland, North Carolina, to heal. The last thing he wants is to get involved—with the community, or with lovely waitress Lisa Sawyer, who has big dreams of leaving Harland. When a massive storm hits, it will take a dramatic rescue, and Lisa’s unshakable belief, to wake a part of Seth he thought he’d lost forever. Suddenly one reluctant hero finds himself captivated by Christmas spirit. If only he can help Lisa discover the place she really wants to be....


“Need some help up there?”

Hearing an unfamiliar drawl, Lisa Sawyer steadied herself where she was perched trying to string Christmas lights. The staff of Ruthy’s Place was in full-on holiday decorating mode. She wouldn’t mind a little help.

Turning, she found a man standing behind her who reminded her of a Greek statue. Maybe it was the granite-hard contours of his face. Maybe it was his razor-sharp crew cut, or the almost clear blue of his eyes. Or maybe it was the way his stained gray T-shirt rippled over muscles that ran from his shoulders to the tops of his paint-spattered work boots.

Wow, was the first coherent word that popped into her head. Since she couldn’t say that, she smiled. “Thank you—”

“Seth,” he said quietly. “Seth Hansen.”

“Oh, Ruthy’s nephew. She said you were coming to help out with some maintenance and stuff.” Reaching over, she held out her hand. “Lisa Sawyer.”

Considering how strong his grip must be, she was amazed by how gentle his touch was.


MIA ROSS

loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at www.miaross.com (http://www.miaross.com).


A Gift of Family

Mia Ross






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


Be strong and courageous.

—Joshua 1:9


For Ashley and Christopher—

the two best gifts I’ve ever gotten.


Contents

Chapter One (#ub1d3bbda-c178-5601-81aa-5542efc6d1db)

Chapter Two (#u3879bad4-b174-54e5-b265-0b766e8e9647)

Chapter Three (#u949fc3af-92f0-5a11-ad1f-28f4ee76c7e9)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

“Need some help up there?”

Hearing an unfamiliar drawl, Lisa Sawyer steadied herself against the bay window where she was perched trying to string Christmas lights. It was the Monday after Thanksgiving, and the staff of Ruthy’s Place was in full-on holiday decorating mode. With the long cord in one hand and a dozen thumbtacks in the other, she wouldn’t mind a little help.

Turning, she found a man standing behind her who reminded her of a Greek statue she’d seen on the Travel Channel. Maybe it was the granite-hard contours of his face. Maybe it was his razor-sharp crew cut, or the almost clear blue of his eyes. Or maybe it was the way his stained gray T-shirt rippled over muscles that ran from his shoulders to the tops of his paint-spattered work boots. Instinct told her he hadn’t bought his ratty jeans that way. The way they bagged on his tall, lean frame made them look as if they belonged to someone else.

Wow was the first coherent word that popped into her head. Since she couldn’t say that without looking foolish, she smiled. “Thank you—”

“Seth,” he said quietly. “Seth Hansen.”

“Oh, Ruthy’s nephew.” Lisa filled in the blank with another, less impersonal, smile. “She said you were coming to help out with some maintenance in the diner and the apartments upstairs.”

“That’s me.”

Reaching over, she held out her hand. “Lisa Sawyer.”

Considering how strong his grip must be, she was amazed by how gentle his touch was. Careful, almost, as if he was afraid to hurt her. As the scent of fresh gingerbread wafted in from the kitchen, the ceiling speakers switched over to the opening chords of “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” While she held up one end of the lights and Seth pegged in a thumbtack every six inches or so, Lisa sang along with the lyrics.

“You sing it better than she does,” Lisa’s helper complimented her as he pinned the last length of cord into place on the other side of the diner’s glass-front door.

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The hard planes of his face creased into something like a grin, and he offered a hand to help her down. After she landed, they stood there looking at each other, and she realized he was waiting for her to say something.

“I was off this weekend, so I haven’t seen you around,” she said. “When did you get in?”

“Yesterday morning.”

He didn’t add anything more, and she couldn’t decide if he was shy or rude. Then again, he’d been a total gentleman helping her the way he had, so rude was off the list. That left shy, and she could work with that. “Then welcome to Harland. How are you enjoying it so far?”

“Lisa Jean Sawyer,” Ruthy scolded as she came out of the kitchen with loaded platters for two of their early-bird dinner regulars. “Are you grilling my favorite nephew?”

“Just a little,” Lisa answered with a laugh. “He doesn’t seem to mind too much.”

Looking slightly awkward, Seth didn’t say he minded, but he didn’t say he didn’t, either. The guy was so laid-back, he made a turtle look like an Indy driver. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about fending him off, Lisa mused. Although she couldn’t imagine any woman with a brain rejecting whatever advances he wanted to make.

Eyeing Lisa like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her, he turned to his aunt. “Which idiot jammed the fry skimmer down your sink?”

“Oh,” she confessed without blinking, “that was me.”

Grimacing, he shook his head. “Can I ask what you were thinking?”

“I was thinking there was something stuck in the disposal, and I had to get it out,” she retorted as she poured coffee for her customers. “I’m sure they’ll have whatever parts you need at Harland Hardware. Just ask for Gus and tell him who you are.”

The expression that flashed across Seth’s tanned features had only one name: terror. His jaw was clenched so tight, Lisa knew it must hurt, and her heart went out to him. He was obviously former military of some kind, and she’d expect someone like that to have nerves of steel. Something horrible must have happened to make this imposing guy so jumpy.

Apparently, Ruthy noticed it, too. Putting down the coffeepot, she took one of Seth’s hands in both of hers and gave him a bracing look.

“Tell him you’re my nephew and you’re working on a project for me,” she clarified. “He’ll get you whatever you need and bill me for it.”

Seth relaxed a bit and nodded. “Okay.”

Reaching up, Ruthy pulled his head down to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she said must have been just what he needed to hear, because the tension left his face, and he grinned. He had a really nice smile, Lisa decided. She wondered what a girl would have to do to see it more often.

“So,” he said with a little more confidence. “Where is this place?”

“Lisa’s not busy right now,” Ruthy replied casually. “She can go with you, introduce you to Gus.”

They both glanced toward Lisa, and she smiled. “Sure. No problem.”

Taking off her ruffly white apron, she draped it over the back of a chair and met Seth at the door. He glanced at the mistletoe kissing ball suspended overhead and shook his head again before opening the door for her. The silver jingle bells hanging from the knob alerted everyone in the diner that they were leaving.

Just as they were about to go, she heard the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter. Looking back, she saw Ruthy standing on the other side of the lunch counter, a digital camera in hand.

“What on earth are you doing?” Lisa demanded with a laugh.

“I always take a picture of the first couple under the mistletoe. Then I add it to the collage.” Motioning to the frame beside the door, she added, “It’s tradition.”

Seth groaned. “We’re not a couple.”

“You’re two people under the mistletoe,” she argued.

“We just met, Aunt Ruth. We’re not the kind of couple you’re talking about.”

“You could be.”

When he glared at her, she gave up. “Fine. I’ll delete it.” Glancing down at the display, she sighed. “It’s such a nice shot, though.”

Four people sidled past them into the diner, with three more close behind. Lisa suspected that if she didn’t do something, these two would argue so long the dining room would be overflowing by the time she got back to help.

“It’s not a big deal, Ruthy. Just keep it.”

She marched out, figuring Seth would follow quickly enough. He did, but out on the sidewalk, he looked down at Lisa and grumbled, “She jammed that disposal on purpose, didn’t she?”

“Why would she do that?”

“My hunch is she wanted me to notice you. She invented a kitchen crisis to get me downstairs.”

“I wasn’t even in the kitchen,” Lisa pointed out. “How could she know you’d see me out in the dining room?”

“Those swinging doors aren’t that high. With you up in the window like that, I saw you right off.”

“She’s quite the matchmaker, so it sounds like something she’d do.” Since he didn’t seem seriously upset by his aunt’s supposed meddling, Lisa laughed. “I can’t imagine what she’s thinking.”

Being Lisa’s godmother, Ruthy knew her better than most. Well enough to know this soft-spoken handyman was nothing like the brash, outgoing guys she enjoyed dating.

“Christmas lights and mistletoe,” he replied grimly. “They make folks nuttier than usual.”

“I think it’s sweet, her wanting to set you up for the holidays. Of course, you should get to pick the girl,” Lisa added to make it absolutely clear she wasn’t even remotely interested in being his Christmas crush.

“I’m not real good at that,” he confided quietly.

“Most guys aren’t.”

“She’s just like my mom. They think I need somebody,” he said, looking over Lisa’s head as a tractor rumbled down Main Street.

“Do you?”

As soon as the words jumped from her mouth, she regretted them. It was none of her business if he needed someone. Or no one. Still, she couldn’t help being curious about why he constantly avoided her eyes. She also couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his hesitance than simple shyness.

After a long pause, he shrugged. “I’ve always done fine on my own.”

“I like my independence, too,” she rambled to avoid another awkward silence. “Being the youngest, everyone was always telling me what to do. The best part of being a grown-up is finally getting to do my own thing.”

“Independence is different from being alone.” With an appreciative glance, he added, “Something tells me you’re not alone all that much.”

Her intuition told her he was trying to say something without insulting her, and she wasn’t sure she liked his tone. “I have company when I want it, if that’s what you mean.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

Irritated now, she had to admit his comment about being alone was dead-on. She hated it but she couldn’t imagine how this stranger had picked up on it so quickly. Both of them seemed uncomfortable with the subject, so she decided it was better to switch to a less personal topic. Seth wasn’t big on conversation, which left her pretty much on her own.

“What are your plans for the holidays?” she asked.

“Home with my family. After that...” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him one way or another.

Having grown up in Harland, the baby in a large, loving family, Lisa couldn’t begin to understand his careless manner. But God wired everyone differently for a reason, and she never questioned His logic.

As they headed down Main Street, she noticed everyone had gotten into the spirit. Garlands and multicolored lights framed every window and door, and wreaths hung from the vintage streetlights. Up ahead, she heard a Santa bell ringing, followed by a hearty, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!”

After a few blocks that felt much farther, they reached Harland Hardware. The brick building was like all the others in town, old but well kept, with a blue-and-white-striped awning shading the glass-front door. Red, green and silver garlands were draped everywhere, and a set of speakers was pumping some kind of shop tool Christmas song out to the sidewalk.

“Now I’ve heard it all,” Lisa commented with a giggle. “Did you know drills and saws could even play ‘Jingle Bells’?”

“Nope.”

She’d finally had enough of his distant manner. “Seth, do you think I’ve been pleasant?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t hate brunettes or waitresses on general principle?”

“Course not.”

She gave him a chance to elaborate, but he didn’t take it. No one had ever treated her so coolly, and she was done putting up with it. Glowering up at him, she demanded, “Then what is it about me that you don’t like?”

“Nothing. Honest,” he added, as if that would help.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

* * *

Lisa huffed so hard, her bangs fluttered above her crystal-blue eyes. As she glared at him, Seth pitied any guy foolish enough to fall for her. Sweet as she appeared to be, behind that amazing smile was tempered steel. No man alive could possibly handle all that attitude.

Even though the top of her head barely reached his shoulder, she didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him. She also didn’t seem inclined to end their pointless staring contest, so Seth broke it off.

Looking behind her, he was almost surprised to see the latest rechargeable power tools displayed in the store’s large bay windows. A building like this seemed better suited to old-fashioned planes and handsaws. As he reached for the large brass handle on the door, his heart suddenly seized in his chest, and he could barely breathe.

Panic attack, he reminded himself, pulling away from the door to take a deep breath and give his nerves a chance to settle. Hard as he’d worked to get them under control, they still flared up when he found himself in unfamiliar territory. That was why he sometimes froze up when people talked to him. He’d made enough progress in his recovery to understand what caused the bizarre reaction. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

A quick glance around showed him no one was paying any particular attention to him, which was a relief. Lisa’s concerned look told him she’d noticed, though, and he forced himself to act as though nothing was wrong. To avoid her gaze, he looked into the other window, pretending to admire the latest in battery-powered drills.

The face reflected in the glass looked petrified, and he let out a disgusted sigh. It was a hardware store in a Podunk little town, run by a friend of Aunt Ruth’s. Thinking of her gave Seth’s confidence a much-needed boost. Honest errand or sham, she believed he could manage this, or she wouldn’t have sent him. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her. Once his heart had settled into an uneasy trot, he reached for the handle again.

As he opened the door and stepped back for Lisa to go through, the bell overhead chimed in welcome.

“Is that Lisa Sawyer?” The gray-haired man behind the counter gaped in obvious disbelief. “Never thought I’d be seeing you in here, princess.”

“My nickname,” she muttered to Seth. “My big brothers think it’s hysterical.”

“Is it accurate?”

“What do you think?” she demanded in a haughty tone he thought matched her nickname pretty well.

“I think I’d rather not know.”

“Smart man.” As they reached the counter, she greeted the owner. “You should be nice to me, Gus. I brought you someone to talk shop with. Seth Hansen, Gus Williams. Seth is Ruth’s nephew.”

As the two men shook hands, Seth noticed the Semper Fi tattoo on Gus’s forearm. Faded but still clear, he could tell it had been there a long time.

“I’m not much for tools and such,” Lisa announced, wrinkling her cute little nose in distaste. “I’ll be in the decorating section.”

She went left, looking up at the aisle markers as she went. Gus chuckled and called out, “Head to your right, you’ll find that stuff in the back.”

With a melodramatic sigh, she changed direction and turned down an aisle advertising window treatments. Turning back to Gus, Seth was surprised to find the man smiling at him.

“Marines,” he said proudly. “How ’bout you?”

Gus’s quick assessment kicked his pulse up again, and Seth waited a beat to make sure he spoke normally. “How’d you know?”

“Son, it’s written all over you.”

Feeling awkward, Seth ran a hand over his crew cut. Maybe if he let his hair grow out, people wouldn’t peg him quite so easily. Sure, and he could get an earring, too. His mother would love that.

“Oh, it ain’t just the hair,” Gus told him. Leaning in, he added, “It’ll get easier, I promise.”

Inexplicably, Seth blurted out, “It’s been almost two years.”

“Some recover quicker’n others.” Gus frowned. “Some come home but never quite make it back, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Seth had seen a few of them when he was in the hospital. Staring vacantly at nothing, muttering to themselves, imprisoned by memories that might never let them go. Watching them had been the motivation he’d needed to push himself hard every single day, even when his body had protested. With relentless determination, he’d whipped through his rehab in record time.

However difficult normal life was for him, it was a cakewalk compared to others.

“I pray for ’em every day,” Gus confided. “Those poor souls need all the help they can get.”

Seth was careful to keep his expression neutral. While he respected everyone’s right to worship, his own faith in God had withered under the brutal desert sun. The horrible things he’d experienced had convinced him that if there was a divine presence watching over the earth, He was far from the compassionate, omnipotent being he’d learned about in Sunday school. That God would have ended all the wars and restored peace.

Since that had yet to happen, Seth figured the whole thing was nothing more than a nice story aimed at teaching people how they should behave. If the Golden Rule were the law of the land, the world would be a much better place.

Gus seemed to take Seth’s silence for agreement, and he smiled. “If you ever want to jaw with a fellow soldier, I’m a real good listener.”

While most people’s sympathy made him stiffen up defensively, Seth understood that the old Marine empathized with what he was going through. He wondered if his aunt had sent him here hoping he and Gus would hit it off. Knowing her penchant for aiding folks in need, Seth certainly wouldn’t put it past her.

Accepting help was tough for him, but he acknowledged the generous offer with what he hoped came across as a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Gus rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Now, what can I get for you?”

“Aunt Ruth jammed something in the disposal.”

“Again? That woman sure is tough on her equipment.” Chuckling, he lifted the hinged butcher block to step out from behind the counter. “My professional plumbing stuff’s out back. Have a look around while I fetch it for you.”

“Thanks.”

Whistling along with the power tools’ version of “Deck the Halls,” Gus headed through a door sporting a sign that read No Customers—This Means You. While he waited, Seth cruised the well-stocked store. Neatly arranged shelves and hooks held everything from plumbing and electrical parts to livestock supplies. There was even a section of sturdy work clothes. Several versions of the denim shirt Gus wore hung on a rack beside jeans and steel-toed boots. The prices were reasonable, which told Seth the owner recognized how much money his customers had to work with and made sure they could afford to shop in his store.

“Browsing?” Lisa asked from behind him. When Seth turned, she laughed. “Please don’t tell me you’re seriously thinking of buying clothes here.”

“Maybe.”

“We have some nice stores in town,” she went on. “Just wander up and down Main Street and you’ll find pretty much everything you need.”

Seth looked at the racks, then back at her. “Jeans, shirts, boots. What else is there?”

She groaned. “You sound like my brothers.”

“Is that bad?”

“Mostly.”

When she smiled, he realized she was teasing him, and he felt himself loosen up a little. Apparently, she’d gotten past her earlier frustration with him. While he didn’t do it on purpose, he knew his reticence made it impossible for strangers to warm up to him. He appreciated her cutting him some slack.

“They sound like my kinda guys.” He put a little extra emotion into the comment so she’d know he wasn’t a robot. He wasn’t sure why that mattered to him, but it did.

“Oh, you’d love them,” she assured him. “And my brother-in-law, too. Men’s men, straight through every strand of their mulishly stubborn Y chromosomes.”

Seth laughed. The way she rolled her eyes was so cute, he couldn’t help it. The wattage on her smile actually increased, and he had a tough time paying attention to what she was saying to him.

“...actual shoes, shirts made of something besides denim, a sweater or two,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers. “You know, things to wear when you’re not working.”

Seth couldn’t recall the last time he’d chosen his own clothes. When he was younger, Mom took care of all that. Then he’d worn one type of uniform after another. Lately, it was Mom again, because he didn’t have the inclination to do any more than reach into a drawer for something old and comfortable to wear.

Until today, he hadn’t cared much whether they even fit or not. He wasn’t sure why it mattered all of a sudden, and he decided it was best not to examine it too closely.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, steering her away from the clothing.

While his very entertaining companion chattered on about designer wallpaper borders, Seth hummed over the price of a new table saw. Not bad. Maybe he could barter some handyman help to Gus and get a discount. Then once he got settled somewhere, he could set up a carpentry shop and start making things again.

Appealing at first, the idea quickly turned Seth’s stomach, and he sighed. Looking down at his hands, he flexed his left arm, testing the scar that ran along his chest and circled his shoulder. It still wasn’t completely healed, but he knew he was lucky to have his arm. Thinking of that horrific injury always led him back to the afternoon that had changed his life forever. He’d done his job that day, and by all accounts their mission had been a success. But on a personal level, it had cost Seth far more than he could afford to pay.

Very firmly, he shut the door on those memories. He couldn’t do anything about the past, and these days his future was on pretty shaky ground. So that left him with the present. Sometimes he felt stalled, as if his life had stopped moving forward. The trouble was, he had no clue how to get it going again.

He loved his parents, but their constant worry had become suffocating. When Aunt Ruth had asked for his help, he’d jumped at the chance to come to Harland. He was hoping a change of scenery would help him get his life back on track.

If that didn’t work, he was out of ideas.


Chapter Two

When Lisa arrived at the diner for her shift the next day, lunch was in full swing. So were Seth’s renovations. Trying to blot out the constant screech of his circular saw overhead, she bopped from table to table refilling drinks and making sure everyone had what they needed. Around noon, she helped Ruthy prepare standing orders for the contractor’s crew that was rehabbing the Harland Courthouse, a quaint old building that had stood in the center of town since before the Civil War.

Then, because their busboy was up to his elbows in dishes, Lisa piled the cartons of food and drinks onto one of Ruthy’s catering carts and rolled the whole shebang down the street. The twenty-dollar tip the guys insisted on giving her more than made up for the extra trouble.

As she strolled back into the diner, she realized the sawing had stopped. In its place she heard the sound of hammering, and she wondered if it was time to buy herself some earplugs.

“That boy just doesn’t stop,” Ruthy muttered, shaking her head. “He’s been at it since eight this morning.”

Having been raised on a farm, Lisa could appreciate anyone who put that much effort into something. Aggravating as her brothers were, she admired their willingness to work at a job until it was done. Whatever flaws he might have, Seth’s devotion to his task earned him a healthy dose of respect from her.

“He should have something to eat.” She ladled up some of Ruthy’s famous Irish stew and dropped in a spoon. Setting the bowl on a small serving tray, she added a thick hunk of soda bread. “Does he like sweet tea?”

Ruthy’s withering look told her that was a stupid question, and Lisa laughed as she poured him a glass of it. “I’ll take it up to him. Be right back.”

To her surprise, Ruthy stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Thank you, honey.”

“It’s just food.”

The older woman looked confused, then gave her a sad smile. “That’s not what I meant. I’m grateful to you for being nice to my boy.”

Intrigued, Lisa asked, “What was he exactly? I mean, we see lots of veterans in here, but none like him. What happened to him?”

Ruthy didn’t respond, and she tried again. “He was a Navy SEAL.” Nothing. “Black ops. No, wait, he was a spy.”

“I really can’t tell you,” her boss confided while she banded a stack of twenties for the deposit. “I don’t know.”

“But he was military. I could tell that as soon as I laid eyes on him.”

Ruthy’s eyes flicked up to her, then back to the money she was counting.

“Has he always been so frustrating?” Lisa asked, feeling a little frustrated herself.

Finally, her boss stopped fanning bills and looked directly at her. “Seth is a wonderful, caring man who’s been through things you and I couldn’t begin to comprehend.”

Of course, Lisa thought with a mental forehead slap. Post-traumatic stress disorder. That explained his odd reactions to everyday occurrences, his hesitation with her when she was just trying to be friendly. He came across as cold and withdrawn because his emotions were literally frozen inside him.

“That’s so sad. I don’t know much about PTSD, but I could do some research online. Maybe if I understood it better, I could—”

“PTSD,” Ruthy scoffed, which was very unlike her. “That’s the least of his problems. Seth has lost his faith.”

“In what?”

“Everything. Anyone he hasn’t known his entire life, and even some people he used to know well.” Her voice had started to tremble, and she firmed her chin in an obvious attempt to keep back tears. “He thinks God deserted him.”

Lisa couldn’t imagine the closed-off handyman confiding that to anyone, not even his adoring aunt. “Seth told you that?”

Eyes glistening with sorrow, she nodded. “We were all together for Thanksgiving at my sister’s house. He was so sulky, barely talking to anyone, looking mad at the world. I couldn’t bear to see him that way, so I kept at him until we got down to the real problem.”

Frowning, Lisa said, “I remember when Matt was like that. It was awful knowing my big brother was so lost.”

“Lost,” Ruthy repeated. “That’s the word for Seth right now, but I’m not leaving it that way. I asked him to come here, hoping a new place would help him work through his troubles and get back to the way he used to be.”

Lisa smiled. “Does Santa know about you?”

“You’re distracting me.” Waving her away, Ruthy turned the stack of money over to begin counting again. But her pleased expression revealed how she felt about the compliment. “And that food is getting cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lisa took the tray and turned toward the steps. “I won’t be long.”

“Stay up there and see if you can get him to take a break. I don’t want him wearing himself out,” she added in a worried tone.

“What makes you think he’ll listen to me?”

Ruthy laughed as if she’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. “Oh, honey, there’s not a man alive who wouldn’t drop whatever he’s doing to talk to you.”

“Not Seth,” Lisa grumbled. “He’s immune to my charm.”

As she headed upstairs, behind her she heard Ruthy mutter, “That’s what you think.”

* * *

Hearing light footsteps on the stairs, Seth expected it to be his aunt coming to check on him. When he glanced up from the oak plank he was measuring for a cut, he was shocked to see Lisa instead. Flustered by her unexpected visit, he stood up so fast he knocked his head on the sharp corner of the wall.

“Are you okay?” she asked, hurrying toward him.

“Yeah.” Rubbing his head, he added, “Just a klutz.”

While she looked up at him, he hoped she didn’t think he was a complete moron. To his relief, she smiled. “You’ve been working really hard up here, so I thought you might be hungry. I left the tray on that table in the hall so the food wouldn’t get sawdust in it.”

He’d been so focused on what he was doing, he hadn’t thought about food at all. The mention of it made his stomach rumble. “Actually, I’m starving.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I showed up when I did.”

Was it good? He hadn’t known her long, but he’d really enjoyed the brief time he’d spent with her. Lighthearted and chatty, she made him forget about everything but how much fun he had listening to her talk.

Then again, she probably had that effect on every guy within ten miles. Seth wished he could just relax and let things happen between them naturally, but he was painfully aware he couldn’t let himself get too attached to anyone in particular. He’d come a long way, but he didn’t think he was ready for a sassy handful like Lisa Sawyer. He knew for a fact she wasn’t ready for him.

That left them at friends, he supposed. For someone who felt adrift in his own life, there were much worse places he could find himself.

“It’s pretty dusty in here,” he said. “You don’t have a mask, so you should really stay out in the hallway.”

“Okay.”

After he’d closed the door behind them, she asked, “Should I get out of your hair, or would you like some company while you eat?”

In reply, he pulled up a wooden chair and brushed off the plaster dust that had accumulated while he was putting up Sheetrock in one of the rooms. When he motioned her to it, she smiled and sat down. “That new floor you’re putting down in there looks nice.”

“The old one was pretty beat-up,” he agreed as he pulled up another chair and started in on his stew. Humming appreciation, he said, “Aunt Ruth’s a great cook, but this has always been my favorite. Thanks for bringing it.”

“There’s plenty more if you want it. She always makes way too much.”

“Then she takes the leftovers to that shelter in Kenwood,” Seth added.

“That’s our Ruthy,” Lisa said fondly. “Feeding the world one mouth at a time.”

After swallowing some sweet tea, Seth said, “You really love her, don’t you?”

“Since I was a baby. She’s my godmother, and she insists I picked her the first time she held me.”

“She was a friend of your parents, then.”

Lisa’s nostalgic smile dipped into a frown, and she nodded. Seth felt awful for upsetting her, and he did something he never did. He asked a near-stranger a very personal question.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she responded with a sigh. “My parents are both gone is all. Dad died a couple of years ago, and I miss him most at the holidays.”

Seth had pegged Lisa at about his age, and twenty-eight was way too young to have lost both parents. His heart twisted with an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long, long time: sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” After a couple of seconds, she appeared to shake off the sadness and asked, “So, do you have any plans after you’re done here?”

“Not really.”

“But you’re not staying in Harland?” When he shook his head, she laughed. “Yeah, me neither. It was great growing up here, but I know every nook and cranny of this place. I want to get out and see some of the world.”

He managed a tight smile that he hoped told her he had no desire to pursue the subject of exploring any part of the world other than where he was currently standing. Thankfully, she switched tracks.

“Your parents must be so proud of you, coming to help out like this,” she said. “Not many people would drop what they were doing to take on this job all by themselves.”

Scooping gravy from the bottom of his bowl, he shrugged. “No big deal.”

“Seth, look at me.”

He dragged his eyes up to meet hers, and she rewarded him with another of her beautiful smiles. So far, he’d noticed six different versions, each one as amazing as the others. Not that he was counting.

“You’re a good guy, and what you’re doing to help Ruthy is really nice. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Her words were like salve to a soul that had taken more than its share of beatings, and he couldn’t help grinning. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Do you want some more?” she asked, pointing to the bowl he’d scraped clean with the soft bread.

“No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

Giving him a parting smile, she headed back downstairs. The scent of her perfume lingered where she’d been sitting, and he debated what fragrance it was. He wasn’t much for gardening, so he settled on something flowery. It made him think of summertime when he was younger, when the biggest decision he had to make was where the fish would be biting that day. And which fishing hole attracted the prettiest girls for swimming.

Those were the days, he thought with a sigh, full of simple plans and even simpler pleasures. It was a shame he hadn’t appreciated them more when he had the chance. Pushing the past into the rear of his mind where it belonged, he stood up and got back to work.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon, Seth caught up with Lisa while she was at the lunch counter, filling a long row of sugar shakers. “Are you busy?”

Pausing in midpour, she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Do I look busy?”

“Kinda.”

“Trust me, I’m not. Go ahead.”

“This morning at breakfast, Aunt Ruth told me she wants to change out all the drapes and bedding in the apartments I’m working on. Then she mentioned putting new trim and a feature wall in each one.” He made a sour face. “I know Gus carries all that decorating stuff, but I’m no good at figuring out what goes together. I was hoping you could help me out.”

Glancing up from her task, she smiled. “You don’t trust Gus to be your interior designer?”

“Not a chance. After seeing his store, I’m guessing he’s not any better at it than I am.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m doing anything important here.” Taking off her ruffled apron, she went to the pass-through and yelled into the kitchen. “Taking my break!”

A muffled response came back, and she joined him on the far side of the counter. “I’m all yours.”

Even though he knew the comment didn’t mean anything special, he liked the way that sounded. As they left the diner, Seth noticed how men’s heads turned when Lisa walked by. The attention didn’t seem to faze her, though. She was either oblivious to it or immune. Since her sparkle struck him as being completely natural, his guess was the latter.

“Don’t those garlands look nice?” she asked, pointing to workers suspended in two cherry pickers, stringing long boughs over Main Street. “They’re going to put lanterns in the upswing parts. That’ll be so pretty.”

“Yeah, this place really goes all out for the holidays. You don’t see that much anymore, with money being so tight.”

“People donate the funds to make it happen,” Lisa told him in a proud tone. “It’s important, so we make sure it gets done.”

“Gotta admire that.” As he pulled open the door of Harland Hardware, they were greeted by a unique version of “Carol of the Bells.”

“Are they banging on metal?” Lisa asked Gus, who was filling a rack with work gloves.

“Hammers on anvils,” he replied with a grin. “That’s the name of their band, too.”

Laughing, she shook her head. “Where do you find these albums?”

“Santa brings ’em.” Sliding the last pair of gloves in place, he asked, “What can I do for you two?”

Lisa didn’t answer, and Seth realized she was letting him take the lead. After months of enduring people’s well-intentioned coddling, he liked that she was allowing him to stand on his own. “Aunt Ruth wants some redecorating done in those apartments. Lisa’s here to make sure I don’t pick out anything stupid.”

Laughing, she patted his arm. “Why don’t you hang with Gus while I check out the new stock? When I find some things I think Ruthy will like, I’ll holler.”

“Works for me,” Seth agreed quickly.

After she’d gone, Gus gave Seth a knowing look. “That girl likes taking care of you, doesn’t she?”

Seth’s first impulse was to deny it, but after a second thought he had to admit Gus might be right. Because he didn’t want to consider it any further right now, he opted for an old military tactic. He turned the tables.

“Mind if I ask you something?” he asked as he followed Gus to the main counter.

“Sure. Might not get an answer, but fire away.”

“What’s going on with you and my aunt?”

Looking neither pleased nor angry, the old Marine studied him through narrowed eyes. “What makes you think there’s anything going on?”

Seth knew he’d hit the nail squarely on the head, but he shrugged to keep things casual. “You’re in the diner at least twice a day, and even if she’s up to her ears in orders she always takes your table herself.” Grinning, he added, “There’s a huge mug behind the counter with your name on it.”

“Those fancy teacups of hers are too small for me. I’m just saving her time by getting all my coffee at once.”

“Uh-huh.”

After a few seconds, Gus relented with a hearty laugh. “All right, you got me. I think the world of that woman, and she doesn’t seem to mind me too much, either. Happy now?”

“I would be if you’d do something about it.”

Seth knew he was pushing it, but his aunt had been a widow for more than twenty years. She never complained, but he hated thinking of her rattling around in her big, beautiful Victorian house all alone. He was pretty sure if his uncle Paul had the chance, he’d tell her the same thing.

“And what about you?” Gus challenged with a knowing look. “When are you gonna do something about Lisa Sawyer?”

Feeling as if he’d been ambushed, Seth tried to spit out the answer that should have come easily. He had no intention of doing anything about Lisa, but for some reason he couldn’t form the words. What was wrong with him, anyway?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Grinning, Gus deftly changed the subject. “So what is it you two are looking for?”

“I’m not sure,” Seth replied with a grimace. “Aunt Ruth wants something called ‘feature walls’ in these rooms, and Lisa thought wallpaper would look nice. I’m no good with that fancy stuff, so she’s helping me out.”

Lisa shouted for Seth, and he grinned. “There’s my cue.”

As he strolled past the counter, Gus called after him, “I’ve got shower curtains and bathroom googaws back there, too. Be sure to check those out.”

In reply, Seth just groaned, and Gus’s laughter followed him back into the decorator section of the store.

* * *

By the time they were finished at the hardware store, the storm that had been predicted all week was picking up steam. Lisa decided it would be smart to collect the bistro chairs and take them inside before they ended up down the street. There were twenty of them clustered around five tables, and she was fighting the wind every step of the way.

Fortunately, Seth pitched in, lifting two of the wrought-iron tables as if they were made of paper. With his help, the job went much quicker. She was holding the door open for him when a gust of wind roared down the sidewalk with the force of a runaway eighteen-wheeler. Behind it came a chilling rain, and Lisa was grateful when Seth lined himself up to shield her from the water coming in sideways under the awnings. Signs creaked overhead, and the trees lining the sidewalk were bent almost double trying to absorb the wind.

“Wow, this is really something!” she yelled over the noise.

“Almost done.”

He sounded so calm, she glanced over at him. Despite the power of that swirling wind, he looked as though he was doing nothing tougher than wading through ankle-deep water at the beach. Light as she was, Lisa knew if he stepped aside, she’d be blown into the brick wall behind her.

Suddenly, there was a harsh crack as a streak of lightning touched down close by. The roar of thunder was immediate, and she found herself flattened against the wall she’d just been thinking about. She could feel Seth’s heart thumping a measured, reassuring beat against her cheek, even though her own was racing along in sheer panic. After a few seconds, he pulled away, and she saw someone she’d never met before.

Alert and rigid, his hands braced on either side of her, he looked ready for a fight. As if that wasn’t unsettling enough, his eyes had gone a breathtaking icy hue. As his expression mellowed, the color came back into them, and he looked her over with genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“You mean other than the fact that you just scared me half to death?” More than a little rattled, she hoped she’d managed to sound more or less normal.

“Sorry. Reflex.”

Nobody she knew had reflexes like that. Quick and violent, they gave her a terrifying glimpse into his past. It was a view she’d rather not have gotten.

“What did you think was going to happen?” she asked.

Before he could answer, she heard the ominous groan of a tree and looked over to the town square. She watched in horror as an ancient oak the size of a tanker truck crashed through the roof of the oldest church in Harland. Whipping out her cell phone, she dialed 911 with one hand and dragged Seth along with the other.

“Pastor Charles’s car is in the parking lot,” she explained as they ran toward the little white church. “He’s probably in there.”

Before she even finished speaking, Seth broke into a full-on gallop, leaving her far behind. By the time Lisa shouted their location to the county emergency operator and got to the chapel, he was yanking boards away from the ruined doorway.

“He’s in there, all right,” Seth ground out between clenched teeth. “He heard me and called for help. Said the roof caved in on him and he can’t move.”

Sending up an urgent prayer for the pastor’s safety, Lisa helped Seth clear a space just wide enough for them to get through. When they had one, he turned to her and gripped her shoulders in his scratched, bleeding hands.

“Lisa, I want you to wait in the parking lot for the EMTs.”

“But—”

The look he gave her would have cowed the Devil himself, and for once in her life she went the meek route. Above their heads, one of the remaining roof trusses creaked and shifted, sending decades-old dust down on them.

“Be careful!” she cautioned as Seth slipped inside.

She peeked in behind him, watching him wade through pews and hymnals scattered everywhere, then duck under the enormous tree felled by the storm. Tossing aside beams as if they were Lincoln Logs, he made his way to the front of the church.

As the wind’s howling intensified, more debris rained down, and she lost sight of him. The idea of anything happening to this bewildering, courageous man terrified her more than anything had in her entire life.

“Seth?”

“Why are you still here?” he barked as the wail of a siren broke through the screeching wind.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He muttered a few things that should never be said inside the walls of a church, then she heard the word “woman” tacked on the end. She gathered he was referring to her, and not in a nice way.

“I’m fine,” he growled. “Go tell the EMTs to come in the back.”

This time, she did as he asked. Lisa scrambled away from the door just before the jamb splintered overhead.

“Please, God,” she murmured as she ran to meet the ambulance. “We could use Your help down here.”

* * *

Choking and squinting against the dust floating in the air, Seth pushed his way through the mess. Near the altar, he found an older man dressed in a gray suit pinned under a fallen rafter. Covered in splinters and dirt, somehow he managed to beam like the cherubs Seth had seen flying around the Sistine Chapel when he’d visited Rome years ago.

“Oh, praise the Lord! I wasn’t sure anyone would hear me over the storm.”

“Lisa Sawyer and I saw the roof go in,” Seth explained.

Despite his own predicament, the trapped man frowned in concern. “She’s not in here, too, is she?”

“No, she’s safe. The ambulance just pulled in, and she’s talking to the EMTs.” Falling back on relentless training that had become instinct, Seth quickly assessed the situation. Hunkering down beside the frightened pastor, he asked, “Can you move at all?”

“A little.”

Ideally, he’d have a couple of guys to help him shore up the pile so it wouldn’t shift uncontrollably and crush either of them. Unfortunately, ideal wasn’t the usual picture for him, so by necessity he’d gotten good at improvising.

Taking the handkerchief from his back pocket, he said, “This could get messy, and I don’t want you breathing in any more of it than you have to.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. It might take a little doing, but I’m gonna lift this beam up. When you feel things loosen up under there, I want you to slide as far to your right as you can.”

Clearly fighting his fear, the pastor nodded, determination in his dark eyes. Seth tied the handkerchief into place for him and asked, “Are you ready, sir?”

“Ready.”

Seth yoked the beam on his shoulders and braced his legs for a test shove. The pile shifted but nothing big came crashing down, which told him the layers of debris were fairly well-balanced. Applying some more muscle, he managed to lever the beam up enough for the man to slide partway out from underneath.

“That’s good,” Seth told him as he carefully lowered the stack of splintered lumber. “Don’t move anymore till we can get a backboard.”

“I won’t.” He held absolutely still, which was a good sign. He was conscious and listening. Most people in this kind of situation wouldn’t be doing much of anything.

“You’re Ruthy’s nephew Seth, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She goes on and on about you.” Sighing, he closed his eyes. “I see now she’s been holding out on us.”

What exactly had she told her friends? Seth wondered. Shaking off the uneasy feeling the question caused him, he focused on getting the pastor out of the church before the building caved in on them.

Now that their position was slightly less precarious, Seth decided to make some more space for the EMTs to move around in. Bracing his hands on the beam that held up one side of the pile, he drove in with every bit of his strength and shoved the stack away with a deafening clatter.

The weight of it carried farther than he’d expected, tearing a hole through the side wall. Fortunately, the framing structure held, but it still wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind.

He traded a look with the pastor. “Sorry about that.”

“There’s a leak behind that wall, anyway. We’ve been wanting to open it up and fix it for years.” Through the dust hanging in the air, those dark eyes twinkled at him. “We could use your help with that.”

As innocent as the offer seemed, Seth couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable about being singled out this way. During his time in the desert, he’d been taught to blend in and disappear, so standing out in any way still felt like a bad thing to him. Harland was a completely different kind of place, he reminded himself. The people here were genuinely kind and helpful to each other. This was his life now—he just had to get used to it.

Something in the way Pastor Charles had phrased his request, making it so personal, made Seth want to agree even though he didn’t know the details. In his experience, leaping before you looked could be deadly, so he hedged. “You need a contractor for a job this big. I’m just a carpenter.”

“You know, son, I work for a carpenter who did some pretty impressive things.”

The reference to the faith he’d abandoned made Seth’s skin crawl. Before he could come up with a polite way to decline, two shocked EMTs appeared on the other side of the hole.

“We thought the whole place was coming down,” one of them said with obvious relief. “You okay?”

“I am, but Pastor Charles needs some attention. You’ll want a stretcher and a backboard, just to be safe.”

The guy cocked his head. “You a doctor or something?”

Hardly in the mood for twenty questions, Seth gave him a stern glare. Fortunately, the EMT backed off, grabbing his partner before hurrying back to the ambulance. Waiting for them to come back would only annoy him, so Seth knelt down beside the injured man.

“How’re you doing, sir?”

“A little sore, but I’ll be good as new in no time,” he replied with a grateful smile. “Thanks to you.”

Seth wasn’t used to being around to get credit for what he’d done, so the praise didn’t settle well. “Just pitching in.”

Fortunately, the medics showed up and saved him from having to make any more conversation. Because moving around in the wrecked church was dangerous, Seth helped steady things while they got their patient strapped in and off to safety. When the scene was as secure as it was going to get, Seth stepped through the hole he’d inadvertently created. Actually, it was a good thing he had. It was a much safer route out than the way he’d come in.

As the ambulance pulled away, out of the corner of his eye Seth noticed something that looked out of place. The red-and-blue emergency lights swirled through the vivid colors of a stained-glass window that had somehow survived the cave-in.

A scene of Jesus surrounded by animals, it suited the small-town setting perfectly. The winking effect made him think of the Christmas lights he and Lisa had strung at the diner the other day. He’d seen more than his fair share of carnage, and there had never been anything beautiful left behind.

Did it mean something, or was it just a lucky break? While he was considering the possibilities, Lisa appeared beside him.

“That was amazing,” she breathed, admiration sparkling in her eyes. “I’ve never met a real live hero before.”

“I was just in the right place at the right time,” he said as they moved out of the path of two fire trucks.

“So was I, but I never could’ve gotten him out of there. He and his family will be incredibly grateful to you. Actually, the whole town will be. He means a lot to all of us.”

Perfect, Seth grumbled silently. He’d come here to lend a hand at the diner, not be the center of a lot of unwanted, undeserved attention.

Sighing, he looked down at the pretty waitress who’d been so kind to him. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” she agreed with a bright smile.

“Could you keep this quiet?”

“In Harland?” She laughed. “Are you serious? Everyone already knows.”

“I really don’t want that.”

Clearly puzzled, she tilted her head like a curious cocker spaniel. “Why not?”

“I like being under the radar.”

“What radar?”

He didn’t know how to explain it to her, so he shook his head and started to walk away. When he heard her gasp, he whipped back around. “What’s wrong?”

“Your shirt. Your shoulder.”

Reaching over, he could feel that the shoulder seam on his left sleeve had gotten torn during the rescue. That meant...

“I have to go.” He backed away from her as if that would make her forget what she’d seen.

“Wait!” Pulling off one of her silver hoop earrings, she lifted the flap of his shirt and used the wire to fasten it to the remaining fabric. “That will cover it till we get to the hospital.”

“No.” The harshness in his tone made him wince. “I’m sorry, but I’m fine, really. Nothing to worry about.”

“Seth, your hands are all cut, and you’re bleeding in a dozen places. You at least need to clean up and get some bandages.”

As more emergency vehicles raced toward the square, people started flooding in to see what was going on. Cornered and helpless, Seth’s razor-sharp instincts were screaming for him to drop back and disappear. The problem was, there was no cover in this wide-open town square for him to slither into.

His skin crawled with cold sweat, adrenaline twisting his gut so hard he thought he’d be sick. Another quick survey of the area showed him he was completely out of options.

Swallowing the nausea, he turned to Lisa in desperation. “Will you help me?”


Chapter Three

Panic stiffened his expression, and his entire body looked ready to do battle. Lisa had never been in a war, but Seth reminded her of a trapped animal who was prepared to fight to the death rather than surrender.

But there was no enemy to engage, and he had nowhere to run, which left him no options at all. She sensed that he was on the verge of completely losing control, so priority one was to get him calmed down before that happened. She couldn’t do that here.

The wild swings in his behavior—from heroic to

panicked—were like nothing she’d ever seen, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Then she recalled Ruthy taking his hand and talking quietly, forcing him to listen. If she tried the same, would he go along or turn and run?

Lisa reached for his blood-streaked hand, half expecting him to pull away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he clasped her hand firmly, as if he was holding on to a rope that could save him from falling into nothing. After the horrific view she’d gotten of his shoulder, his shadowy history only made her more curious about him. Maybe someday he’d trust her enough to tell her the truth about himself. For now, he needed her help. Despite her misgivings about him, Seth had taken an enormous risk to rescue a man he’d never met. She wasn’t about to let him down.

“Come on,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “Let’s get out of here.”

They started walking, and she slipped her cell phone from the pocket of her apron.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Hush.” She punched a button and put a determined smile on her face. “Hey, Ruthy. Just wanted to let you know everything’s fine. Pastor Charles is a little banged up, and the EMTs are taking him to Kenwood Hospital just to be safe. Seth’s walking me back to my place to check on Cleo. We should be back in about half an hour.” After a pause, she laughed. “Yeah, you know how she is when the weather gets bad like this. I’ll make up the time later. ’Bye.”

She put the phone away, and he smiled down at her. “For a waitress, you’re pretty good under pressure.”

“It’s not a lie,” she informed him coolly. “I found my cat when she was about four weeks old, out in a bad thunderstorm. Ever since then she’s been terrified of storms. I’ll be glad if she comes out of hiding at all today.”

Turning down a side street, she led him up a set of stairs and unlocked the door of an apartment wrapped on three sides by a wide porch. After being hammered by the wind for so long, the calm inside was a welcome change.

She loved her tidy studio, with its L-shaped kitchen tucked in one corner and a small bathroom in the other. The garlands swagging from the ceiling were real, filling the open space with the outdoorsy scent of pine. Twined into them were long strings of ivy and tiny white lights that popped on when she hit the switch by the door. A nice contrast to the clouds outside, the effect was warm and inviting.

“Cleo?” Lisa called out, moving around in search mode. “The thunder’s gone, baby. You can come out now.”

It took her about two minutes to discover the cat was nowhere to be found. Hands on her hips, she declared, “I’ll guess she’ll turn up when she’s ready.”

Glancing around, Seth frowned. “Can she really get out of here?”

“There’s a hole in the bathroom ceiling that goes up into the eaves. I’ve never checked, but I think she hides in there when she’s scared.”

Moving to the doorway, Seth peered into the bathroom. “Did it ever occur to you that if she can get out, other critters can get in?”

Lisa went into the kitchen and turned on the water to wash the dust off her hands. “Oh, it’s not that big.”

“I don’t know. Mice don’t need much of an opening.”

“Cleo would take care of any that snuck in,” Lisa assured him.

“How is she with bats?”

She’d just opened the cupboard where she kept the first-aid kit, and she stared over her shoulder at him. “Bats?”

“Not your favorite, huh?”

She shuddered as she pulled out the little box. “We have them out at the farm all the time. They’re like rats with wings.”

“If you’ve got some cardboard and tinfoil, I can make a plug for you to put in the hole after your cat comes back.”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, holding up his hands in deference to her temper. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Yeah, no one ever does.” Sighing, she said, “Have a seat. We need to get you cleaned up before anyone else sees you.”

She motioned for him to sit at the kitchen table. Once she had a bowl of warm water, she joined him.

“This might hurt,” she warned as she stirred some rubbing alcohol into the water.

“It’s okay. I’m pretty tough.”

She couldn’t begin to imagine how tough he’d have to be to survive the injury she’d glimpsed before he turned away to hide it from her. While she was trying to think of something to talk about other than that, he gave her a warning look.

“Don’t ask. I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t meaning you can’t stand to talk about it, or can’t meaning you’re not allowed to?”

Grimacing, he clamped his mouth shut and refused to answer her. But his eyes had gone that icy color again, and she decided she’d had enough of his emotional-freezer routine.

Making sure she had his full attention, very carefully she said, “That’s your choice, but you should know I don’t do dark and mysterious. Life is short, and I don’t waste my time chasing after people who can’t come out of themselves long enough to enjoy it.”

He took a minute to absorb that, and his demeanor shifted slightly. “I’m not allowed to talk about it. Not with anyone.”

What a horrible sacrifice to make, she thought wistfully. Unless that order changed, Seth would spend the rest of his life with part of himself locked in the past.

“That can’t have been easy to admit,” she said approvingly as she unwound a length of gauze to wrap around the large pad she’d set on his forearm. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“I wish—”

When his voice faltered, she glanced over at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

While she was dying to know what he wished, she realized this disillusioned man had coiled up tight for a reason. No amount of prodding would convince him to open up to her unless he wanted to. If that meant it would never happen, she had to accept that. She might not like it, but she really didn’t have a choice.

He cleared his throat and said, “I wish I was more like you.”

“Really?” Astonished by his revelation, she laughed. No one had ever told her that before. “Why is that?”

“Some folks can put their feelings right out there for everyone to see. You’re one of ’em.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good,” he answered immediately. “Very good.”

He gave her a shy smile that made her want to hug him. Maddening as he was, he had a vulnerability that made her want to put in a little more effort with him than she normally would. If he was anyone else, she’d shrug at his quirks and be nice but not pursue him as more than a casual acquaintance. But it was Christmas. Goodwill toward men and all that.

And there was something in the way Ruthy had thanked her for being nice to him that made Lisa want to keep trying. Far from home, he needed a friend. She could do that.

“Something smells good.” He complimented her on the spicy aroma wafting over from a Crock-Pot on the counter.

“Chili for supper tonight. It’s great with Ruthy’s corn bread. When the weather gets cold, I have it a lot because it’s easy to make while I’m at work.”

“I should try that sometime. Maybe you could give me the recipe.”

“Two cans of stewed tomatoes, a packet of chili powder and a half-pound of browned hamburger.” As she rinsed her cloth, she grinned over at him. “I’m not much of a cook.”

“You’ve got me beat, that’s for sure.”

“You just need a little practice is all.”

* * *

Yeah, Seth thought, with a lot of things. Like not getting tongue-tied when a pretty woman smiled at him the way Lisa was doing now.

“Y’know,” she said while she rubbed salve into the worst cuts on his arms, “that whole roof could have caved in on you. God was really watching out for you.”

He wasn’t willing to reveal that he and God had parted ways long ago. “It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but he sensed that if he started debating religion with this very determined woman, it wouldn’t end well. This was her house, and if he couldn’t agree with her, the least he could do was not make her angry.

Uncertainty hung in the air between them, and he searched for a way to get past it. “So what does the rest of your week look like? Lots of Christmas shopping?”

Lame, lame, lame, a familiar voice in his head chided him. Fortunately, Lisa was more forgiving.

“Oh, I’ve been done for two weeks now,” she replied as she rinsed out her cloth. “It’s a good thing, because I’ll probably be busy at the church.”

Seth chuckled. “They didn’t even have Pastor Charles strapped on the gurney yet, and he was already trying to talk me into helping with the repairs.”

“That sounds like him.”

“I think he was a little loopy,” Seth continued. “He asked me to head up the crew.”

“Why is that loopy? You’re doing a great job for Ruthy, and the way you rushed into that mess, you’ve got plenty of guts.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “That’s really all you need.”

“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot going on.”

Pinning him with a no-nonsense stare, very quietly she said, “I’ve gone to Christmas Eve service in that church every year since I was born. I can’t imagine it any other way.”

The thought of her being so disappointed made him feel like a heel. It also made him feel as though he should explain his reluctance. “It’s not that I don’t want to help.”

“Then what is it?”

The truth stuck in his throat, but he knew he owed her at least that much. After some hunting, he came up with an explanation he could live with. “I’m not very religious, so working on a church doesn’t seem right.”

As she wrapped a bandage around his left hand, she casually asked, “Is this nonreligious thing a habit or something new?”

“I was raised in it, like you. It just doesn’t work for me anymore.”

“Any particular reason?”

“God quit listening to me.”

Seth was horrified to hear that come out of his mouth. He’d never said it quite so bluntly, and it sounded bitter. Then again, he was bitter, so maybe that was reasonable. To his surprise, Lisa didn’t chide him the way his mother often did. Actually, she didn’t seem all that concerned.

Instead, she bathed him in a gentle, understanding smile. “I know it seems that way sometimes. God’s timing isn’t like ours, because He’s been around so long and He can see so far into the future. He always hears us. He just doesn’t always answer right away.”

“Well, I got tired of waiting.”

He’d endured three years of covert missions in the blazing sun, begging for divine help that never materialized, but Seth didn’t want to get into that with her. Now he understood why smart people never discussed politics or religion with each other. It was the best way to remain friends.

“Maybe,” she suggested as she tied off the bandage, “if you think of the project as a building instead of a church, you’ll feel better about lending a hand.”

When she connected with his eyes, the hopeful look on her face nearly did him in. Then logic kicked in, reminding him that he was treading on very thin ice.

He hated to disappoint her, so he said, “Maybe.” While she started cleaning up his other hand, he ran his bandaged one over the mosaic tabletop. “This is really cool. I’ve never seen one like it.”

“That’s because I made it.”

She made it sound as if it was no big deal, but Seth was impressed. Leaning forward, he studied the design. “Really? How?”

“I got the table for five dollars at a yard sale and crushed up some broken Spanish and Italian tiles Gus was throwing out. After that, I just had fun with it.” Tying the last knot, she said, “All done. If that gash still looks nasty after you take the bandages off, I’ll redo it for you.”

“Thanks.”

Standing, she walked the few steps to the kitchen and started putting her things away. While he waited, Seth wandered into the bathroom to check out the ceiling. After poking around for about thirty seconds, he found several waterlogged ceiling panels. A quick look around told him why.

“You don’t have a fan in here,” he called.

“Does that matter?” she asked from the doorway. “It’s just me.”

“Every bathroom needs an exhaust fan. You should have your landlord put one in.”

Tilting her head, she gave him a get-real look, and he chuckled. “I’ll bring my tools over tomorrow and take care of it.” When her eyes narrowed, he amended his offer with, “If you want.”

“I thought you had a lot going on.” She tossed his flimsy excuse back at him with a healthy dose of sass to make sure he got her point.

He decided not to take the bait. “This is a basic drop ceiling. It’d take me about an hour to put in a fan and replace all the panels. You helped me out today. I’d like to return the favor.”

“What about helping with the church? You don’t have to be the foreman, just sign up for the crew. There’s only three weeks till Christmas, and we need every set of hands we can get.”

“I’ll think about it.” When she gave him a chiding look, he added, “That’s the best I can do.”

Lisa’s expression told him she hated his nonanswer, and he glanced around her apartment, searching for a way to get back in her good graces. He found his inspiration on the walls. Every inch of them was filled with artwork, and he strolled around admiring each one in turn. When he spotted her signature at the bottom of one, he asked, “You painted these?”

Seth recognized it was a stupid question, but it made her smile, which was a relief. After all, she was the only friend he had in this town. He didn’t want her mad at him if he could avoid it.

“Yeah, they’re mine. It’s a hobby.”

Paintings and sketches of various sizes hung everywhere, and in the corner he saw more paintings stacked on end like books. Bright landscapes were mixed with more subdued views of foggy and cloudy days. The people she’d painted had so much dimension and character, he felt as if he could walk up and talk to them.

On an easel stood a portrait in progress, with a picture tacked to the upper corner. The photo was faded, and he assumed it was fairly old. None of the six people in it looked familiar at first. Then the dark-haired woman caught his eye, and he did a quick comparison with Lisa.

“Is this your family?”

“Yes.” She looked completely shocked. “You’ve only met me so far. What made you think that was us?”

“Her.” He pointed to the woman holding the adorable, laughing toddler instinct told him was Lisa. “She looks like you.”

Some emotion he couldn’t describe flooded Lisa’s face, and for a few terrifying seconds, he thought she might cry. Instead, she amazed him with the most incredible smile he’d ever seen. How many did she have, anyway?

“That’s my mother. She died of leukemia a few months after that picture was taken.” Staring at the picture, she continued. “All us kids have a copy of it, but as you can see, they’re not holding up well. I thought it’d be nice to do a full-size oil painting that would last forever. I want to have it ready to hang over the fireplace at our farm in time for Christmas.”

Seth recalled her mentioning her father’s death. He could only imagine how much the painting would mean to the Sawyers. “That’s a real nice idea.”

“I don’t remember her at all.” Lisa tapped her mother’s face with a nail done in cotton-candy pink. “I’m having a terrible time getting her right.”

“Check the mirror,” he suggested. “She has darker hair and eyes than yours, but other than that, you look just like her.”

Lisa beamed with pride. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Normally, Seth would only vaguely understand what she meant. To his astonishment, her revelation did more than that. The part of him that he’d thought had died out in that nightmarish desert rustled, as if it were waking up from a long sleep.

Baffled by the sensation, he moved away from the easel and began flipping through the other canvases. “These are really nice. You should try selling them in a gallery or something.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head with finality. “I’m a total amateur.”

“I’m no expert but these look pretty professional to me. Did you go to art school or something?”

“Just practice,” she said with a shrug.

Clearly, she was uncomfortable talking about her impressive talent, so he thought it best to let the subject drop. From the bathroom came a thud, followed by the most pitiful sound he’d ever heard. Somewhere between a howl and a moan, it bounced off the tiles in a mournful echo. Lisa hurried over with obvious concern, pausing in the doorway with a relieved smile.

“There you are.” Going inside, her voice went all mushy as if she were talking to a child. “Were you scared, Cleo? I’m so sorry. Mama’s here now, and the storm’s over. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Still murmuring reassurance, she came back into the kitchen holding a miniature bobcat in her arms.

“Whoa. What is that?” he asked.

“This is Cleopatra, queen of the Nile.” With a mischievous grin, Lisa angled the cat toward him. “She’s a Maine coon.”

Seth wasn’t too fond of cats, and he eyed it suspiciously. “She looks like she could eat a coon.”

“Not my Cleo,” Lisa crooned, cradling the very fluffy ball of fur in her arms like a baby. Cooing some more, she rubbed noses and planted a kiss between its tufted ears. “She likes Ruthy’s shrimp salad.”

“Who doesn’t?” he joked, chuckling as he shook his head. Deciding to risk his hand, he reached it out for the cat to sniff. She didn’t bite it off, so he considered the experiment a success. When she rubbed her cheek against his fingers, he grinned. “I think she likes me.”

“Incredible.” Lisa stared up at him with a curious expression. “She hates everyone except for me.”

Seth gave the cat a mock bow. “I’m honored, your highness.”

Calmer now, Cleo dropped to the floor and sashayed over to the couch. Using it as a springboard, she jumped into the wide greenhouse window, settling on a carpeted perch among the potted herbs and flowers. She squirmed around a little, trying to find just the right position. Once she was satisfied, she surveyed the view below with what Seth could only describe as arrogance.

Perfect, he mused with another grin. The cat thought she owned the entire town. It didn’t escape him that in the three days he’d been in Harland, he’d smiled more than he had in the past two years.

“That’s quite a roommate you’ve got there,” he said as he joined Lisa at the kitchen counter.

She pulled a ceramic bowl from the fridge. Covered in multicolored paw prints, Cleo’s name was written across it in flowing script. Lisa set it on the floor, and Cleo came sauntering over for a snack.

“She’s the best,” Lisa commented as she ruffled the cat’s long fur. “Warm and cuddly, and she’s always happy to see me.”

In the confession, he heard that Lisa had been lonely before she took in the stray kitten. There was something seriously wrong with this bright, engaging woman ever feeling that way. Since it wasn’t his place to say anything like that, Seth followed his father’s often-repeated advice for dealing with women. He kept his mouth shut.

Noticing a stack of travel folders on the counter, he motioned toward the colorful brochures. “Going somewhere?”

“Europe. I’m using some of the money my dad left me to book a nice, long tour in the spring,” she explained with an excited-little-girl smile. “I can’t wait.”

“Have you decided where to go?”

“Not yet.”

Leaning over, he fanned through the splashy catalogs and pulled out one called Exploring the Emerald Isle. “You’d like Ireland. It’s wild and beautiful, and the people are real friendly.”

“You’ve been there?”

“I’ve been to all those places.”

Leaning on the counter, she looked up at him. “It sounds like you didn’t enjoy them much.”

Unwilling to dampen her enthusiasm, he didn’t say anything. Unfortunately, she read him like a big, open book. The kind with lots of pictures.

Staring at him, she looked totally appalled. “I can’t believe anyone blessed enough to visit all these fascinating countries would regret doing it.”

Since he couldn’t begin to explain it to her, he settled on something vague. “Traveling gets old after a while.”

“I’ve been to Charlotte, and I went to Chicago once to visit my big sister before she and her kids moved back here. I’ve always wanted to see some of the world, maybe even live in Europe for a while. Whenever I mention it to anybody, they just pat my head and say ‘that’s nice, honey.’ I really hate that,” she added, tilting up her nose in disdain.

“I can see why.”

She rewarded him with an approving smile. “Thank you.”

After that, they chatted some more about arts and crafts while Lisa tidied up. Seth kept waiting for her to ask about his wreck of a shoulder, but she didn’t. While she rummaged around in the single closet and found him a dark blue T-shirt to wear, he expected her to mention what she’d seen.

Instead, she said, “That’s the biggest shirt I’ve got, but I think it’ll work. You can change in the bathroom, and then we should get you back to the diner. Ruthy will be worried sick when she hears you were the one who rescued Pastor Charles.”

Seth’s stomach plunged to the floor. “Nobody knows it was me.”

“Trust me,” Lisa told him with a grin. “Everybody knows it was you. That means Ruthy does, or she will soon. You need to show her you’re okay.”

It hadn’t even occurred to him that his aunt would be worried about him. Feeling awkward and stupid, he stared down at the T-shirt in his hands.

“Seth?”

Out of pure, stubborn pride, he lifted his head and met those beautiful blue eyes.

“I don’t know what’s in your past,” she continued, “and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you’re here now, and you’re safe. Nobody in Harland means you any harm, least of all me. Now, go change your shirt and we’ll walk back to the diner together. Okay?”

Her compassion drove that stupid feeling back a few steps, and he nodded. “Thanks.”

He went into the bathroom and shut the door. He’d just pulled the borrowed shirt on when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his jeans.

Pulling it out, he read the caller ID before clicking it on. “Hey, Aunt Ruth.”

“Where are you?” she demanded in an echoing whisper.

“Lisa’s. You sound like you’re in the storeroom,” he teased.

“That’s because I am.”

“Why?”

“Don’t come back here,” she warned. “Folks are piling up in the diner, waiting to get a look at the town hero.”

Suddenly, the situation wasn’t so funny. The blind panic he’d felt earlier returned almost full force, and his pulse shot into hummingbird range. There was no reason for that, Seth chided himself.

You’re here now, and you’re safe.

Lisa’s reassurance echoed in his mind, soothing his nerves.

“Lisa’s on her way back there. I don’t think I should hang out at her place without her.”

“Come in the back gate,” his aunt suggested. “Then stay up in your room. Once the hoopla settles, I’ll take you home with me and make you a proper meal.”

The thought of being trapped upstairs made Seth’s skin crawl, but going to her house might actually be worse. Nice as it was, the chances of running into more Bentons were almost a hundred percent. After the emotional beating he’d taken today, Seth wasn’t up to trading small talk with one of his happy, successful cousins.

So he chose the better of his two very unappealing options. “I’m kinda tired, so I think I’ll just stay in my room.”

“Sethy, are you okay?” she pressed. “The truth, now.”

He bit back a groan. The childish nickname emphasized just how worried she was about him.

“I’m fine.” Nudging the door open a crack, he peered out to find Lisa waiting by the front door. “Lisa’s ready to go, so I’m on my way.”

“All right,” she relented. “And Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“What you did today was incredibly brave. I’m very proud of you.”

With her praise ringing in his ears, he smiled and told her again he was on his way.

* * *

After making sure Seth got upstairs unseen, Lisa tied on a clean apron and pushed through one of the swinging kitchen doors into the diner. Way over capacity, the place was crammed wall to wall with busybodies who weren’t even pretending they were there for any reason other than to gawk at Seth. Plastering a smile on her face, she grabbed an armload of menus and waded into the crush. If she played this right, she’d make enough in tips this week to cover her rent.

Or a few moonlit boat rides up the Thames, she thought with a grin.

“Lisa!”

She turned to find Priscilla Fairman waving to her from a corner table, where she sat with friends. Going on eighty-five, the petite, frail-looking woman had been the head of the Harland Ladies’ League for the past forty years. Not to mention the town’s gossip mill began and ended with her. If it was worth knowing, Priscilla knew about it. And made sure it was spread around at light speed.

“How are you today, ladies?” Lisa asked, handing each woman a menu. “Would you like to start off with some of our candy-cane tea?”

“Actually, dear,” Priscilla replied, leaning in with an eager expression. “We’re looking for information.”

“Really?” Resting a hand on the back of a chair, Lisa faked complete brainlessness. “About what?”

“Seth Hansen, of course,” one of the others said. “We heard you were the one who called 911, so you must know what happened.”

Priscilla nodded. “When people ask, we want to make sure we have our facts straight.”

Facts had absolutely nothing to do with it, Lisa knew. They just wanted to make sure they scooped their biddy friends who were trying to eavesdrop from another table.

She’d always had a soft spot for the Fairmans, so Lisa asked, “What would you like to know?”

“Did Seth really pull the roof off Pastor Charles?”

“A good chunk of it.”

Dressed head to toe in classic Chanel, Helen Witteridge fanned herself with her hand. “Oh, my.”

Lisa couldn’t keep back a grin. Widowed four times, Helen prided herself on being a connoisseur of men. If Seth gave her the vapors, Lisa could only imagine the effect he’d have on the rest of the women in town. Of course, he’d have to come out of hiding first.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “He’s pretty strong.”

She knew that for herself, having felt that strength when he shielded her from the storm. That sense of being completely safe crept into the front of her mind, and she did her best to ignore it. There was no sense in getting all gooey over Seth. There was a lot of baggage with that one, and Lisa liked her relationships simple. It made it easier to wiggle free when things had run their course and she wanted to move on. Besides, she was going to Europe in a few months. She had every intention of enjoying her foreign adventure to the fullest.

She took the ladies’ orders while they peppered her with more questions. She answered them as truthfully as she could without making Seth sound like Superman. Because, having seen it with her own eyes, she couldn’t blame anyone for making that mistake. What he’d done was astounding.




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