Alison Roberts - Single Dad In Her Stocking / A Puppy And A Christmas Proposal

It seemed that Max was thinking the same thing because they both got to their feet in the same moment. He stepped towards Emma and took the sleeping baby from her arms.

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I can manage.’

‘I’m here,’ Emma reminded him gently. ‘I may as well help you manage for tonight, yes?’

There was always something about a man holding a baby that tugged at the heartstrings. But there was something else about this particular man holding a baby that actually brought a lump to Emma’s throat. This had to be his worst nightmare, inheriting a ready-made family including a baby, but he was stepping up to the challenge and determined to do his best and that was courageous and kind and…it tugged at her heart so hard she couldn’t look away from his eyes.

She hadn’t remembered them being quite such a dark blue.

Or quite so…intense.

It almost felt as if he was seeing her… really seeing her…for the first time ever.

Man…

Those eyes… So dark they looked bottomless. You could fall into eyes like that and get totally lost. And, just for a heartbeat, that was exactly what Max wanted to do. The rollercoaster of emotions he was currently riding was proving even more overwhelming than he’d feared it would be.

His heart had gone out to his nephew and nieces the moment he’d seen them but he was little more than a stranger to them and, oddly, that hurt. There was so much stuff that had come with the children and he wouldn’t have even known how to make up a bottle if Maggie hadn’t helped. He might have failed in feeding Alice if he hadn’t forced Emma to help so he could add a sense of failure into the mix. He was worried about how his father was coping, especially after that question about the Christmas tree. They hadn’t put a tree up in this house since his mother had died, leaving a huge pine tree undecorated and a shattered family that barely noticed the showers of dead needles that came weeks later.

On top of that, there were feelings of heartbreak for these children. Part of him just wanted to gather them all into his arms and somehow let them know that he was going to protect them for ever, but he could sense their shyness and knew he would make things worse if he tried to force closeness. He felt gratitude to Maggie for all her extra work and, currently, he was just so, so glad that Emma was here in the house. Trying to convince her that he was up to this task was giving him a lot more courage than he might have otherwise found in the face of such a daunting challenge.

There was also the way she’d been looking at him after Ben had asked about where the Christmas tree was. It had made him think that she knew the answer to that innocent question, which was not unlikely given that she’d spent time with Terry and Jenny. Jenny wasn’t a gossip by any means but she was one of the villagers who all knew the Cunninghams’ history and she was a woman who loved to chat. Max didn’t mind if Emma did know because there was also something in that look that gave him the impression that she understood how much it might hurt and, in turn, that was giving him the oddest feeling of connection. Something that was disconcerting because he’d never associated a feeling like that with any woman. It had to be just another side effect of this strange situation. It was also something that was irrelevant because the children were the only people that mattered right now.

‘What’s first?’ he asked. ‘Shall I feed the children?’

‘How ’bout you and your dad sort some of their things out? Find things like pyjamas and toothbrushes? You could put Alice in her pram for the moment while she’s asleep. Show me where the kitchen is and I’ll sort out the pie.’

‘And chips.’ The small voice came from right beside Max’s leg and he looked down to find Ben standing close by. ‘And sauce. Red sauce.’

‘Is that a rule?’ Max asked. ‘Red sauce for chips?’

Ben nodded. He was holding out his hand towards Matilda. ‘Come on, Tilly,’ he said. ‘It’s time for tea.’

‘It is,’ Emma said, as Matilda slid off the couch. ‘And after that it will be bath time and…what happens after bath time?’

‘Storytime,’ Ben said. ‘And…and then…’

His small mouth wobbled as it turned down at the corners. It was painfully obvious that the prospect of bedtime in this new, scary house was too much even for a very brave child who was doing his best to look after his younger sister himself. The squeeze in Max’s chest was so sharp it made the back of his eyes prickle. He bent down so that he could say something quietly, just for Ben.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ he whispered. ‘I promise.’

Ben’s eyes were a dark blue. Like his father’s had been. Like all the Cunningham men, for that matter. They were also far too serious for a six-year-old boy.

‘It’s a new rule,’ Max added gravely. ‘And I try very hard to never break rules.’

Having so much to do to start getting the children settled into what was going to be their new home was helpful for the next few hours. Having Emma there to answer the questions James and Max kept coming up with was also very helpful.

‘Should we put Alice’s cot in the same room as Tilly and Ben?’

‘It might be better to put it in your room to start with. That way, if she wakes up, she won’t wake up the others.’

‘But…what will I do with her if she does wake up?’

Emma’s smile was kind enough not to make Max feel inadequate in any way. ‘Give her a bottle of milk. Change her nappy. Cuddle her.’

Ben and Matilda ate enough of their dinner for Emma to be looking pleased when Max went to tell her that he had unpacked the suitcases to find pyjamas.

‘Shall we go up those big stairs?’ She made it sound like an adventure. ‘I know where there’s a bath that’s got feet.’

Ben shook his head. ‘A bath doesn’t have feet,’ he told Emma. ‘It can’t walk.’

‘No. This one just stands there but it really does have feet. Like a lion’s paws. Do you want to see?’

Max watched her go up the stairs with a child on each side of her, holding her hands. Ben still had the little Christmas tree in his other hand, he noticed. And Tilly was holding her rabbit by one foot so that its head, with those chewed ears, was bumping on every tread. James was coming down as they reached the halfway curve.

‘Have you got hot-water bottles?’ Emma asked him. ‘It would be good to put them in Ben’s and Tilly’s beds. And put some of their toys there too, so it’ll feel more like home.’

The men didn’t get the distribution of stuffed toys quite right but it was easy enough to fix as the children climbed into the twin beds that were side by side in one of the smallest bedrooms. It was James who agreed to read a bedtime story to his grandchildren while Pirate lay outside the bedroom door. Max was learning how to bath Alice and get her ready for bed. At six months old she was nothing like as fragile as a newborn, of course, but she still felt very small in Max’s hands and it was fiddly enough to get her into her nappy and her stretchy sleepsuit to make him break out in a bit of a sweat.

‘So you’ve put her cot in your room?’ Emma asked.

‘Well…the room I use when I’m staying, yes. It might be a good one for the nanny to use when she gets here.’

‘Have you plugged in the baby monitor?’

‘Yes. And, if I leave the door open, I should be able to hear if Ben or Tilly wakes up too. You don’t think they’ll sleepwalk or anything, do you? What would I do if they did?’