Patricia Johns - A Boy's Christmas Wish

A lot has changed—and a lot hasn’t

Five years ago, Beth Thomas’s engagement to Danny Brockwood ended when his secret child was dropped off on his doorstep. Now eight months pregnant—and about to be a single mother herself—Beth is back in her Alberta hometown, where the rugged mechanic is raising his son.

She wants to hate Danny; discovering he’d hidden his toddler from her was the reason she left. And now Danny’s bought out the beloved corner store that had been in Beth’s family for generations. But their still-simmering chemistry isn’t all they have in common. Can two single parents win back each other’s trust with the help of one determined boy?

“You’ll be okay, Beth.”

Danny took a step closer. He looked down at her pale fingers in his hand, and he longed to lift them to his lips. He was supposed to be over her...

“Are we okay?” Beth asked, looking up at him. She was close enough that he could have bent down and caught those pink lips with his.

“You mean, are we friends?” he asked, his voice catching. He missed her so much it hurt.

She’d walked out on him, broken his heart. She’d been wrong, but that didn’t change the way he still yearned for her.

Dear Reader,

This book revolves around a little boy named Luke whose heart has been broken. He wants a mom—someone to love him and protect him, to be proud of him. And my heroine is the perfect choice, if only she can sort out her issues with his father.

In my real life, my days revolve around my own little boy, who is about the same age as Luke. One day, I was walking my son’s friends home from school as a favor to their mother, and another friend of mine (a mom of a little girl) saw me heading off with this group of sweet, rambunctious boys. She looked rather panicked on my behalf. The thought of caring for that many boys was intimidating to her. But I have a son, so little boys make sense to me. They can be complicated, but they are so worth the work! When I needed to choose a child for my hero, I knew it had to be a boy, because I just had to share that feeling when a pair of arms wrap around your neck and a little boy says, “I love you, Mom!”

If you enjoyed this book, you may enjoy my other books, too. I have two other Heartwarming releases before this one, but I also write for the Western Romance and Love Inspired lines here at Harlequin. All of my stories are sweet, which means the relationship develops without going beyond a kiss. So you can trust my books, regardless of the line they are published under.

If you’d like to connect with me, you can find me at my website, www.patriciajohnsromance.com, or on Facebook. I’d love to meet you.

Patricia

A Boy’s Christmas Wish

Patricia Johns

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PATRICIA JOHNS writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Love Inspired, Western Romance and Heartwarming lines. You can find her at patriciajohnsromance.com.

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To my husband and our little boy.

You’ve had me by the heartstrings from the start. I love you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

BETH THOMAS’S FATHER, Rick, didn’t seem terribly concerned that Granny was missing. He looked up from a basket of laundry he’d been halfheartedly folding and shrugged.

“She’s probably wandered off again,” he said. He was a short man with a full head of iron gray hair and bushy black eyebrows, and he was staring down at the laundry as if he’d rather murder it. He was recently divorced from Beth’s stepmom, Linda, and the housework seemed to irritate him more than the divorce settlement. He was a moderately successful literary novelist, and Beth was still waiting for him to inject all this unprocessed emotion into a new manuscript. So far—nada.

“Does she wander off often?” Beth asked.

“From time to time...yes.”

Beth rubbed a hand over her expanding belly, and the baby wriggled inside her. She was eight months pregnant with sore feet, and Granny had been the buffer zone between Beth and her father since she’d arrived home for the holidays.

“Where does Granny go?” Beth pressed.

“The store.”

For the Thomas family, “the store” never referred to the grocery store or the hardware store. Rick raised his eyes to meet her gaze, and she could see the pain there. Before Linda left, Rick had declared bankruptcy, and the corner store that had belonged to the family for three generations had been put up for sale by the bank. So much for second mortgages.

“I’ll go check there,” she said.

“I can do it—” Rick dropped a T-shirt back into the basket. “You should probably put your feet up or something, kiddo.”

Kiddo. She was thirty-two.

“No, I’m fine, Dad. I’m supposed to get exercise anyway. I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Beth wanted out of the house, away from her father’s irritable household chores and the stuffy smells of toast and pine-scented air freshener. She’d come home because she didn’t have much choice. Her city job as a caregiver for an elderly lady had come to an end when the woman moved to a long-term care facility, and Beth was due to give birth within four short weeks. The baby’s father was out of the picture, hence her return home. But her dad’s divorce and bankruptcy meant that her arrival wasn’t terribly convenient for him, and she could feel his frustration. He needed space, and so did she.

Beth headed down the stairs, stepping carefully. She couldn’t see past her belly, and her center of gravity was off now that she was all tummy, but she made it down, shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her cream woolen coat. It didn’t close properly, but she did up the top few buttons and wrapped a scarf around her neck. It would have to do. The corner store wasn’t far from her dad’s house, and she angled her steps in that direction, keeping her eyes peeled for Granny.

North Fork, Alberta, was a small community on the Canadian prairies with a downtown that consisted of about four crisscrossing streets and a park next to a towering brick church. All winter long, that park had trees decorated for Christmas—an intricate design of twinkling lights that encircled a running track that was flooded to make a skating rink. She’d grown up in this town, learned to skate on that outdoor rink, and she’d even gotten engaged one Christmas in the glow of those Christmas lights to a rugged guy named Danny Brockwood, who’d come to town for a job as a millwright.