Yuletide Hearts (16 page)

“Uh-huh.”

He grinned down at her, glad he had a few inches on her in her work shoes, a height advantage that disappeared when she wore heels.

He didn't care. Tall, short, thin, wide, messy or dressed up, to him she was just Callie, the most delightful creature God could have put in his path. As the bus brakes squealed to a stop, he drew her forward. “Let's go meet the kid. I've got a surprise for us.”

“A surprise?”

He smiled, set her roller down, then ushered her out the door.

The quick drop in temperature made the forecasted snow seem more real. Callie tugged her flannel tighter as she and Matt waited. Jake raced to see them, excitement showing in every step. “Hey, I got another A on my math paper, Mom!”

“Wonderful!” Callie high-fived him, then stepped back inside the warm house. “Seriously, Matt? It's freezing out there.”

Matt and Jake followed her inside and Matt shut the door. “I know, it started dropping about the time we got on that roof.”

“So we're patching it just in time,” Callie noted.

“Yes.” Matt ruffled Jake's hair and added, “Looks like snow tomorrow. And from then on, who knows?”

“I love snow!”

“Most kids do,” Matt told him. He reached into his back pocket and held up a flat rectangular piece of card stock. “And once it snows, we're taking a sleigh ride. If that's okay?” he asked Callie, raising his gaze to her as Jake attacked his legs.

“Matt, you shouldn't have…”

“Sure he should,” Jake told her, astonished. “Because he knew I wanted to go and it's cheaper if three go, right? Because then we can each pay a third.”

“Well, that's a mighty generous offer, bud,” Matt drawled, making sure graciousness hid the laughter in his tone. “But I've got this one covered. Kind of a thank-you to you and your mom for all the hard work you do over here.”

“But isn't that why you pay us?” Jake wondered out loud. “That's what Mom says anyway. You work hard and get paid
for the work you do. She didn't say anything about a sleigh ride in the park with the lights.”

“That's a fringe benefit, Jake,” Matt explained, exchanging smiles with Callie. “When you work really hard, sometimes extra benefits go with the job.”

His words drove up the heat in Callie's cheeks, and that delighted him.

“Then I like those fringe benefit things,” Jake declared.

Matt sent a teasing look to Jake's mother. “Me, too.”

“And on that note…” Callie headed back to the family room. “I need to get this finished. And our fire is probably out at home, so can you guys start one? And let The General out for a run?”

“Will do.”

Jake headed out, but Matt lingered. “So, Finch's visit…” he trailed the words, an eyebrow arched.

“Something we'll talk about without little ears around,” Callie told him.

Matt weighed the words and her expression. “He told you about my past.”

“Yes. And I reminded him,” Callie kept her voice even as she rolled the wall, “that everybody makes mistakes. And nothing's unfixable.”

Matt clenched his hands, wishing that was true.

“Even Katie's leg,” Callie went on. She met his gaze across the room and noted his hands with a glance. “We move on. We try harder. Stay strong. Everyone has a past, Matt.”

“Even you?”

Her flush said yes. Her eyes said it wasn't a topic she was ready to explore which meant she'd buried the hurt, just like him. That only made him more determined to fix it. “Don't you have a fire to start?”

“I'm on it.”

“Good. And Matt?”

He turned, the sound of her voice a sweeter draw than wood fire flames on a dark December night. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For?” He frowned, not understanding, then nodded and raised the ticket. “Oh. Of course. You're welcome.”

Callie shook her head and met his look across the room, then waved a hand indicating the house, the road, the subdivision. Herself. “For all of it. Thank you.”

He loved her. He knew it fully and truly, standing there, seeing her decked out in spattered work clothes, a day's labor behind her and still ready to do whatever it took to be a good mother. A fine daughter. And maybe, just maybe, something more.

He sighed, smiled and nodded, wishing he could kick his heels in the air like Jake and the pooch. “You're welcome, Cal.”

He headed across the field, whistling the “Marine's Hymn,” keeping pace with the rhythm and the beat, his soul blessed, his heart… Well, full was the best way to describe that, and while it was an unfamiliar feeling, Matt decided he liked it. A lot.

He eyed the Quiltin' Bee as he passed through Jamison a couple of hours later, then parked the truck and headed inside, determined to make sure Callie had a great Christmas. He waited while Maude finished up with a customer, then frowned when she reached beneath the counter and withdrew a festively-wrapped box topped by a big red bow.

“This is?”

“Callie's quilt.” She handed him a bill and added, “And if you don't have the money now, I'll wait.”

“I've got it,” Matt told her as he withdrew his wallet. “What I'm wondering is how you knew I'd be back.”

She sent him a wizened grin. “At my age, there's less I don't know than I do. One look at you and Callie on the park round, well…” She softened the smile and shrugged. “Things just seemed to fit.”

Matt couldn't disagree. He handed her his debit card,
signed his name, then tucked the box carefully behind the seat of his truck, feeling like he was truly getting ready for the old-fashioned Christmas he'd dreamed of as a kid.

C
allie watched Matt tuck the lap robe snug around Jake's legs a few nights later and tumbled right back into the danger zone she'd pledged to avoid. Matt's grin and Jake's answering broad smile made it seem less dangerous and more charming.

Matt climbed into the sleigh, slipped an arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss to her hair.

If she hadn't tilted head over heels before, she did then, the feel of a strong, rugged marine taking charge, leading in ways of goodness and grace, here with her and Jake, fulfilling a little boy's dream. And maybe a big boy's as well, if the look on his face was any indication. She leaned closer. “I'm not sure which one of you is smiling more,” she noted as they passed beneath a lighted arch made of naturally entwined tree branches and thousands of tiny twinkle lights.

“This is amazing.”

“It is.” Jake grinned up at Matt, his joy palpable. He wriggled beneath the blanket as they came upon an action scene of animatronic elves in Santa's workshop. “Mom, look! They're building a tool bench!”

Callie laughed out loud. “Those are my kind of elves, Jake. And see what Mrs. Santa's doing?” She pointed toward the left of the scene, where Mrs. Santa and a couple of girl elves fashioned baby dolls. “So sweet.”

Jake snorted. “They're dolls.”

Matt gave Callie's arm a gentle squeeze. “Did you like
playing with dolls when you were little or were you always a tomboy?”

“Both,” she told him, smiling. “I was never afraid to get dirty or run with the boys and play sports, but…” she slanted him a teasing look, “even then I cleaned up well.”

He hugged her shoulder tighter, laughing. “Some things never change. Hey, do you see those reindeer?”

“A real Santa scene,” breathed Jake as they drew closer, the horse hooves clip-clopping along the curved road. A well-dressed robust Santa groomed a small herd of reindeer, on loan from a local organic farm, and the picture added a dose of reality to the fantasyland surrounding them.

“Nice,” Matt observed, his gaze roaming as if hungering for the next sight, the coming scene. They passed through a tree-lined path bathed in white twinkle lights, a Currier and Ives setting with the sleigh, the horse, the driver, the trees. A photographer snapped their photo as they emerged from the boughs, and Callie wondered if the photo would capture how perfect the moment felt.

Lighted scenes peppered the woods on both sides until they turned a corner that led them into the midst of a living nativity, spot-lit from all angles. Mary and Joseph hovered over a hay-filled manger, concern painting their features, while shepherds gathered in awe, chatting and exclaiming.

Sheep wandered the area, their thick woolly coats dusted with snow. A donkey stood to the right, placidly munching hay. Two well-dressed angels watched over the scene from above, their raised platforms hidden by dark draperies, while two more knelt below, paying homage to a newborn king, a child of the poor.

“Oh, Matt.” Jake clenched Matt's arm and the sincerity in his young voice had Callie fighting tears. “They did it just right,” Jake continued, awestruck. “The wise men aren't here, but the angels are gathering around. And the shepherds came back to see if the angels were right. And they were.”

“Of course they were,” Matt assured him.

Did his voice break a little? Callie peeked up, and the loving expression on his face made suppressing an overload of emotions impossible.

“Whenever I think of what Jesus did for us, I regret every time I whine or crab about anything. Born in a manger, hung on a cross.” Matt shook his head and sighed. “And when I feel the most unworthy, I remember he did it for the least of us. And then I feel better.”

Jake reached over Callie and hugged Matt. “I love you, Matt.”

Fear and hope mixed like concrete and stone in Callie's gut. The thought of how bad this could be began to rise up, but then Jake leaned back and stared up into Matt's face. “If I had a dad, I'd want him to be like you. You're nice to kids like me and that's a good thing for a dad to do.”

The look of love Matt settled on the boy was enhanced by the big, broad hand he laid against Jake's cheek. “You're right, bud. That's exactly what dads should do.”

Jake matched and met Matt's smile, then sat back. “This is the most beautiful night I ever had.”

 

Matt heard the boy's words and glimpsed Callie's tear-streaked face and realized he was in for the long haul. Only a rotter would back out now, and Matt had no intention of backing away from this family.

Callie fumbled for a tissue, wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then mock-scowled at him for sending a laughing glance her way. “It's cold out here.”

“Uh-huh.” He leaned closer, his mouth to her ear. “I think you're a sap, soldier. But pretty enough to be kissed.” And he did that, right there, a sweet, gentle kiss feathering over her face, her mouth, not caring if Jake saw because Matt had every intention of establishing his very own family in Cobbled Creek.

If she'd have him, of course. But from the look on her face Matt was pretty sure nothing could get in their way.

 

“Hey, Matt. What's up?” Jeff Brennan pulled up next to Matt's car at a Wellsville gas station the next afternoon. “I keep meaning to get over to Cobbled Creek, but the factory's crazy busy. How are things going? Okay?”

Matt turned and shot a smile toward his half brother.
Brother,
he corrected himself, determined to mend every relationship he could, regardless of legality.

He nodded. “Amazing, actually. And you were right when you told me the Mareks are wonderful people. And I've got my stepdad doing drywall for me.”

He hesitated saying that last bit, pretty sure Jeff would think it weird. As if their convoluted relationships could get any stranger than they already were.

“Awkward.” Jeff sent Matt a look of understanding. “But because that describes our family to a tee, it's a good place to start over.”

“He's sick, too.”

“Yeah?” Jeff's sympathetic expression said he empathized. “What's his prognosis?”

“Good. Just a road to travel. A rough go, alone.”

“So it's nice he has you.”

“I guess.” At this moment Matt wasn't too sure what purpose he served anywhere, except with a hammer in his hands. Give him a toolbox and suddenly everything made sense. “Everybody's gotta have someone, right? How are the wedding plans coming?”

Jeff grinned. “Hannah and I put them in Mom's capable hands. She's happy, she's got Meredith to help her, and we're delighted to let things happen around us.”

“Your mother's great,” Matt told him. Jeff's mother had been the only person other than Grandpa Gus to visit Matt in juvie, and that was after Dana Brennan had her private life gossiped about in every home when the world discovered Matt was her husband's illegitimate son.

“She is. And you're coming over for Christmas, right?”

“Well…”

“Like you've got a better offer?” Jeff's teasing tone said he doubted that.

“I…um…”

“You
do
have a better offer,” Jeff mused. His left eyebrow shifted up. “Which means the Marek family, because you've been holed up in Cobbled Creek for weeks.”

“I might be spending it with them. Yes.”

“With Callie, you mean.”

Matt was hoping for that very thing, but… “Keep a spot at the table open for me. Just in case.”

Jeff gave him a brotherly arm punch. “Will do. Although Mom likes nothing more than planning special events. So she'd be glad to jump in and help with anything you might need. You know that, don't you?”

Maybe he'd said too much. Or at least too soon. Matt leaned down. “Hey, about Christmas and the Mareks, don't say anything, okay?”

Jeff's grin spread wide. “You'll owe me.”

Maybe having a brother wasn't such a great thing after all. “For?”

“Buying my silence.”

Matt thought of how convoluted his life had just become and didn't hold back his sigh. “This one time, it will be worth it.”

Jeff laughed and drove off, leaving Matt feeling like life was racing forward at break-neck speed and he'd forgotten how to apply the brakes. Except he didn't want to, not really. And he was surprised at how good that felt.

 

She should stay home, Callie decided, eyeing the storm and the clock on Saturday afternoon.

She moved toward the phone, then paused and studied her hands, strong and blunt. Weathered. Tough.

She should be working. Helping. The guys had been at it all
day, with her at their side, until she took Jake to Cole's house to play.

And that was the difference, she realized. Jake was a little boy. Playtime was important for his growth and development. Hers?

Not so much.

She reached for the phone, but paused again, wondering. Was it so bad to take a little time for herself? Do something frivolous?

Not to mention pricey. With money scarce, why would she even consider seeing Matt's sister about something as useless as a manicure?

Hannah's arrival nixed the cancellation call. She grinned as Callie climbed in the passenger seat, then laughed at the look Callie shot her.

“Cal, seriously, it's not a firing squad. It's a manicure. And it's Meredith. We'll have a great time.”

Callie indicated Cobbled Creek with a thrust of her jaw. “Do you know how many things I should be doing right now?”

Hannah laid a hand atop Callie's. “Listen, Martha…”

Callie smiled and groaned, the biblical analogy clear. Martha was the energetic, hardworking, get-'er-done sister of Lazarus. Mary was the quiet listener at God's feet.

“Every now and again, it's okay to take a little time off. Have some fun. And there's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself.”

They pulled up to Dana Brennan's beautiful home, sprawling on a double village lot, a detached carriage house-style garage around the back. Callie sighed. “This is gorgeous.”

“Isn't it?” Hannah headed for the side entrance. She pushed open the door, waved hello and turned back. “Callie, you remember Meredith, don't you?”

“I do.”

One look at Meredith's flawless beauty, her stylish outfit, and Callie wished she'd opted out.

“Although high school was a long time ago.” Callie reached out a hand, trying not to bumble, wondering if she should make a run for the door. “I was a year behind you.”

“Callie.” Meredith grabbed Callie's hands and drew her in, her smile infectious. “I'm so glad you came over. Hannah said Matt's been working you night and day, and you need a little pampering.”

“No, oh, no.” Callie shook her head in quick denial. She darted a troubled look at Hannah. “Matt wouldn't think of such a thing, I mean, he's always after me to slow down. Take time off. Relax a little.”

Meredith shot Hannah a quick, knowing glance. “Whoa, spot-on. She's got it bad.”

“Told ya.”

“Hey.” Callie frowned Hannah's way, but Hannah moved across the spacious kitchen, ignoring her.

“Come in here.” Meredith tugged her forward, laughing, a feminine version of Matt's laugh. Warm. Enticing. Vibrant. “I was only kidding, but you totally took the bait, so there's no denying the spark going on between you and my brother.”

“We work together,” Callie insisted.

“Oh, we get it, honey.” Hannah set out a box of fresh brownies. “I got these in case we needed to bribe you to talk, but as you can see,” she waved a hand toward Callie but eyed Meredith, “Totally unnecessary.”

“Which means we can probe her for further information about Matt.”

“All the good stuff.” Hannah withdrew a brownie, grinning.

“Every little detail.” Meredith half sang the words in anticipation.

Callie burst out laughing. “Stop. Both of you. I'm not saying a thing. He'd be mortified to think we're talking about him like this.”

“More like complimented beyond belief,” Meredith argued in sister-like fashion. “But we'll shelve that for later.” She took
a seat alongside Callie and seized her hands, her fingers and eyes examining Callie's roughed-up skin. Seeing her hands against Meredith's more feminine version made Callie want to shrink back. Maybe run for her life, but then Meredith met Callie's eyes. “You wondered if I could help you, right?”

Self-conscious, Callie fidgeted. “Yes.”

“Oh, honey.” Meredith squeezed Callie's hands but leaned in, smiling. “I can work wonders on the skin and the nails, but what you've got here,” she raised Callie's hands slightly, “are the hands of a woman unafraid to get the job done. And no matter what you might think up here,” Meredith tapped her head with one tapered, manicured finger, “God has blessed you with beautiful hands to match a wonderful heart. I can create pretty-looking skin.” She met Callie's look with a bright, knowing smile. “But only God can create amazing hands like yours.”

“I—” Callie sat back, touched, pleased and not a little embarrassed.

“Having said that,” Meredith grinned, stood, crossed the room and wheeled back a manicure tray, “let's have a little fun, shall we, girls?” She bent and plugged in a cord, then immersed Callie's hands in the small sink.

Jets of warm water soothed Callie's skin. Her hand muscles. Her fingertips, alternately chilled and dried by nature and job conditions. And as Meredith went through her usual routine of soaking, massaging, oiling and waxing, Callie's heart began to relax along with her skin. By the time Meredith put a finishing coat of clear polish on Callie's French manicure, Callie's hands felt nurtured. Cared for. Pampered.

Not that she'd be able to grow accustomed to this, but for once, to feel soft, feminine hands? Smooth-as-silk skin?