Kim Watters - A Season of Love

The Soldier’s Gift

Just in time for Christmas, a tall, dark and handsome Scrooge visits Holly Stanwyck’s holiday shop, threatening eviction. But once landlord Ethan Pelligrino sees the single mom’s plight, the former soldier becomes her protector instead. Suddenly he’s helping her with her struggling business and bonding with her troubled son. A wounded veteran come home to heal, Ethan is no stranger to sorrow. But something about the pretty widow fills him with hope. Will Holly be able to let go of her own painful past to see her future by his side?

Ethan momentarily lost himself in Holly’s presence.

Her swept back locks exposed her long, elegant neck and straight, slightly upturned nose. But it was her vulnerability that got to him.

Despite her attempts to keep it all together, he sensed just below the surface she suffered and struggled with her son, the shop, everyday life.

He should step away. Instead, when she turned her head toward him, he found himself staring into her deep green eyes that had seen so much pain. A pain he could identify with. He’d lost his father at a young age, and several of his friends in Afghanistan. But even that couldn’t compare to losing one’s partner, one’s soul mate.

He had no experience with that sort of loss, yet he felt the need to comfort. Protect. He wanted to draw Holly into his arms and absorb her pain and blend it with his own.

KIM WATTERS

At twelve years old, Kim fell in love with romance novels after she borrowed a Harlequin book from her older sister’s bookshelf. An avid reader, she was soon hooked on the happily-ever-after endings. For years she dreamed of writing her own romance novel, but never had the time until she moved from the hustle and bustle of Chicago to a small town north of Phoenix, Arizona.

Kim lives with her two wonderful children, three cats, one neurotic fish and a crazy snail.

A Season of Love

Kim Watters

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Though you have made me see troubles,

many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up.

—Psalms 71:20

For Shane and Emily, who continue to supply me

with endless children’s anecdotes that occasionally make their way into my stories.

For my parents, who instilled the pleasure of reading into me at an early age and taught me to

believe that I could do anything.

For my sister, who introduced me to Harlequin stories.

For Marc, who kept me on track and sane

while writing this book.

For Linda and Kerrie, critique partners extraordinaire.

And a special thanks to Evvere Anthony,

who patiently answered all my questions.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Another Christmas carol drifted through the airwaves and settled on Holly Stanwyck’s shoulders as she sat in her deserted shop. Normally the music would soothe her, but not today. She needed some customers to walk through the front door of ’Tis Always the Season and buy enough merchandise to pay for the day’s overhead expenses. Without being able to put out new offerings in the past few weeks, though, the odds of that happening were nil.

Taking a break from the computer, she opened her mail and stared at another past-due notice before she placed it in the manila folder with the others. The real meaning of Christmas and the reason for the store had died two years ago, along with her dreams of a happily ever after.

“Bah, humbug.” Holly never thought she’d utter those words. Fisting her palms, she rested her chin against them and stared out at the tree behind the wrought-iron fence, its bare limbs scarcely darker than the clouds spitting snowflakes. Even the cold marble pillars and structure of the courthouse in the center of the square seemed to shrink under the weight of the early November storm. She blew her wispy bangs from her eyes.

She missed her husband. The store had been his idea; a way to keep Christmas in their hearts all year round and a way to sell the hand-carved wooden crosses, ornaments, figurines and crèches he made in the workshop behind their bungalow, along with other Christmas merchandise. Only one of his masterpieces remained, and with Jared dead, no new ones would grace the shelves.

In a few moments, she regained her composure and breathed in the scent of cinnamon wafting from the candle on the shelf behind her head. It reminded her of her grandmother’s house in the suburbs of Chicago, and she envisioned Nana Marie’s soft arms cocooning her in comfort. There is nothing in life that you can’t handle, child. Just put your trust in the Lord, and everything will be all right.

Easier said than done. She didn’t believe anymore and only went through the motions for her twelve-year-old son, Cameron. Still, Holly Stanwyck was no quitter. She would not lose everything she and Jared had worked so hard for. The new business venture she’d thought of last night would work. Refocusing on the words on the computer screen, she felt hope blaze through her. She’d get caught up on her bills and give Cam the Christmas he longed for.

Where was Cameron anyway? She glanced at her watch and her heart sank. School had ended an hour ago. If he didn’t show up in the next few minutes, she’d have to close up the shop and go searching for him again.

The bell above the door jingled. Quickly stuffing the folder under the counter, she stood and plastered on a smile, hoping her customer wouldn’t see the desperation lingering in her eyes. “Welcome to ’Tis Always...” Her words died in her throat as the door shut.

A tall, dark-haired stranger stood behind her son, and the scowl on the man’s face didn’t bode well. Cam had obviously forgotten their numerous talks about stranger danger, even in the small town. But then again, from first impressions, she guessed Cam didn’t have much of a choice. Knots formed in her stomach. This wasn’t a social visit. What had her son done now?

The man’s drab olive military-style coat did little to hide his muscular frame and only accentuated his height. Snowflakes clung to his cropped dark hair and dusted his jacket, but a few hugged his long eyelashes, outlining incredible but unsettling sapphire-blue eyes. His lips had yet to break into a fraction of a smile. She straightened her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated by him as she concentrated on her son.

“Cameron.” She glanced at her watch again. “Where have you been?” Trying to keep the censure from her voice and keep her tone light, she failed miserably. “Thank you for bringing him back, Mr....”

“You’re welcome. It’s Pellegrino. Ethan Pellegrino.” He spoke as if she should recognize his name. His lips formed a straight line and fatigue bracketed his eyes. He took his left hand off her son’s shoulder and put it in his pocket, but not before fisting and then flexing his fingers.