Margaret Daley - His Holiday Family

“You’re dead meat. How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff?” Kip sat on Jared’s chest, pinning his brother’s arms to the carpet with his knees. He raised his hands and balled them.

“Kip, get off Jared.”

Kip flashed her a scowl, his fists still hovering over Jared’s face. “He tore up my notebook. I had my homework in it for school tomorrow.”

Kathleen settled her hand on Kip’s shoulder. “I’ll take it from here.”

“But, Mom, I’ve got to do my homework over. It’s all torn up. It was hard. I hate math, and now I’ve got to figure it all out again.”

Gideon stepped into Kip’s line of vision. “You know I’m pretty good with math. I’ll help you while your mom and Jared have a talk.”

Kip’s eyes grew round. “You will?”

Gideon nodded.

“I’ll get my book. There’s paper in the desk in the kitchen.” Kip bounced once on his brother’s stomach, which produced a grunt from Jared, then stood.

Scrambling to his feet, Jared grimaced, holding his middle. “Mom, did you see him? He hurt me. On purpose.”

Kathleen waited to answer him until Kip and Gideon disappeared down the hallway, then she whirled to face Jared. “You used your brother’s school notebook to make paper wads?”

He suddenly found a spot on the floor by his feet extremely interesting. Scuffing his tennis shoe against the carpet, he murmured, “He hadn’t finished his homework. He only had four problems done. He’d told Nana he had done more than he had after school.”

“That’s not the point. You have to respect your brother’s things.”

Jared lifted his head. “I want my own room like I had in Colorado. I hate sharing with him. He’s always bothering my stuff. He always has to be first. He always has to have the last word.”

“That isn’t going to happen anytime soon.”

“Why did we move here? I hate this place. I miss my friends.” Tears glistening in his eyes, he curled his fingers into tight balls, his face screwed up into a frown.

“I had to sell our house in Colorado. We needed a place to live. I grew up here, and I thought you all would enjoy it like I did.”

The frown deepened into a scowl. “You’re a girl. All my friends are back home. Not here.”

“You’ve got friends. How about Charlie down the street? How about the kids who signed your cast?”

A teardrop shone on his eyelash then rolled down his cheek. He knuckled it away. “It’s not the same.” He spun on his heel and raced into his room, throwing himself on his bed and burying his face in his pillow.

After entering, Kathleen sat next to her son and laid her hand on his arm. “Honey, I know this house is small, but it’s all I can afford. One day we’ll get to move to a bigger place.”

Jared popped back up, his eyes flaring wide in hope. “Back home?”

“No. We’re staying in Hope. I need my family around me.”

“They can come visit. I’ll even let Nana have my room when she does and share with Kip.”

“Honey, that’s not possible.”

Jared turned his back on her and hugged his pillow to his chest. “You don’t care about what I want. We were fine where we were.”

Coming to Hope hadn’t been an easy decision. She’d hated asking for help, but she’d had no choice. She’d needed a support system and a means to save money to pay off the debts. “I’ll always care, but we had to move. The cost of living was too high in Colorado.”

Still facing away from her, he murmured, “Cost of living?”

“How much it takes to pay for things you need.”

“I don’t have to have ice cream, and you can forget I want a new bike for Christmas. The one at Nana’s is just fine, even if it’s a girl’s.” He twisted toward her. “And I can wear Kip’s clothes when he can’t anymore. Can we move back?”

“As much as I appreciate your offers, we still can’t move back to Denver. This is our home now.”

The frown returned, and he faced away from her. “You never listen to me. Only Kip.”

“One day you’ll understand there are some things that can’t be changed no matter how much you want otherwise.” Something she had learned painfully the past couple of years. She sat for a few more minutes, but when Jared didn’t say anything else, she pushed to her feet. “You need to apologize to your brother. If you bother his things anymore, you’ll be grounded next time. Understand?”

“Yeah, you love him more than me.”

She leaned over and kissed the side of his head. “I love you both the same. Don’t forget to tell your brother you’re sorry.”

Jared scrubbed her kiss away and put his pillow over his head.

Kathleen walked from the bedroom, releasing a long sigh. Lord, I need help.

With his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, Kip wrote down the answer and waited to see if Gideon said it was right. When he did, Kip beamed. “Thanks, Gideon, I think I get this long division now.”

“I’m glad. I used to struggle with math until one year I had this teacher who I connected with. I finally understood what I was supposed to do. After that, math has come easy to me.”

“I’ve only got one more problem. I’ve never done my homework this fast.”

Gideon watched him finish his math sheet. When the hairs on his nape stood up, he knew that Kathleen had come into the kitchen. He felt her gaze on him and straightened his shoulders, resisting the urge to peer back at her. He dated women all the time, but none of them had caught his attention like she had.

Deep down he sensed a connection as if she knew what it was to be hurt deeply and had held herself back from others because of that. Like him. Was that why he’d gotten the bright idea to bring dinner to her tonight?

No, it was her sons. When he’d talked to them there was something that reminded him of his younger brother and him growing up in foster homes—until one day a family had adopted Zach, leaving Gideon alone. It was obvious she needed help with her sons, and for the next seven weeks or so, he would have more time on his hands than usual while he recovered from his injuries and finally could return to full duty.

He pivoted toward her, transfixed by the soft blue of her eyes. Run. The one word set off an alarm bell in his mind. His chest constricted.

“Is this right, Gideon?”

In the distance he heard Kip speaking to him, but Gideon couldn’t tear his eyes from Kathleen, her delicate features forming a beautiful picture that could haunt him if he allowed her to get too close. But he wouldn’t do that.

Run. Now.

He wrenched his gaze away and glanced down at the last problem. “Sure. You did great. I’d better be going. I imagine you need to go to bed early with school tomorrow, and I have a lot to do in the morning. I…” He clamped his jaws closed before he made a fool of himself with his ramblings.

“I’m going to show Gideon out, Kip. You stay in here. Do not go to your bedroom until I get back.”

“Can I have some ice cream? I finished my homework, and it’s all correct. Gideon said so.”

“One small bowl.”

As Kip jumped up and went to the refrigerator, Kathleen swung around and exited the kitchen.

“See you soon, sport. I’ll see about that tour of the station.” Gideon left and found Kathleen in the foyer, waiting for him. “I told Kip I’ll arrange a tour of Station Two for him—for all of you. But only if you say it’s okay.”

“He wants to be a firefighter or a doctor. He hasn’t made up his mind.”

“I’d say he has a few years to do that. How about Jared?”

She shrugged. “He hasn’t said anything. But the way he’s going, I could see him being a test pilot or some other kind of job that is daring. Danger means nothing to him while I’m getting gray hairs at the young age of thirty-two.”