Ruth Herne - Yuletide Hearts

“I know. It’s just rough at holiday time, when most kids get presents from their dads. Visits. Cards.”

“He’s happy enough.”

“But he wonders, Dad.” When Hank went to speak, she held up a hand to pause him. “I know he’s content, but it weighs on his mind from time to time. His birthday. Christmas. When they do father-son events at school and church. And those are the times when I could wring Dustin’s neck for brushing him off.”

“And brushing you off.”

She shrugged. “Not so much. We married young, we were both in the service, we thought we could conquer the world and when that didn’t work, we grew apart.”

Hank’s snort said more than words ever could. “In my day skirt-chasing was called just that, and it didn’t involve growing apart. It involved breaking vows, going back on your word. A good soldier never goes back on his or her word.”

His righteous indignation struck a chord with Callie. “You’re right, Dad, but it’s in the past and I’ve moved on. We all have.”

“And the future is ripe with possibilities,” Hank reminded her. “Seek and ye shall find. Knock and the door will be opened unto you.”

Callie leaned forward and planted a kiss on Hank’s bushy cheek. “Are you letting your beard grow to keep your face warm on those rooftops?”

“Yes I am.” Hank scrubbed a hand across the three-day stubble and grinned again. “One of the advantages of age and gender. I can grow my own ski mask.”

Callie shook her head, laughing. “And I’m just as thankful I can’t.” She headed for the stairs. “I’m turning in early so I can work on the front of the house before first light. I’ll turn on the small spotlights to help me see. Another few hours of washing should do it.”

“If we had a power washer…”

Hank’s quiet aside made her shrug. “We don’t want to disturb the paint too much anyway. It’s pretty loose in spots and a power washer might peel it off. Hand washing is fine for this year.”

Hank hugged her shoulders and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You make me proud. You know that, don’t you?”

She did. And she appreciated Hank’s commonsense take on Dustin’s behavior, but the image in the mirror once she climbed the stairs showed a strong, rugged woman, a laborer. And while her father’s approval was a lovely thing, and Callie took pride in her work, her dexterity, her intrinsic knowledge of building, some days it would be nice to look in the mirror and have downright beautiful looking back at her, the gracious swan that evolved from the misunderstood fictional duckling.

But that wasn’t about to happen.

Startled awake, Callie stared at the clock, rubbed her eyes and peered again.

She’d overslept the alarm. Not only would she not be scrubbing clapboard that morning, but she’d be lucky if she got lunches made before the bus pulled up for Jake. And what on earth was that noise?

Her father sent her an amused smirk as she ran down the stairs in her robe. “Tired?”

Grr.

Hank held up Jake’s lunch bag. “We’re good to go.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a half hug as she kissed his cheek on her way to the coffeepot. “I have no memory of turning the radio off or hitting the snooze bar. I must have zonked. And what is going on out there?” She jerked a thumb toward the subdivision.

Hank shook his head. “Not there.” He pointed toward the street side of the house. “Here.”

Here?

Callie followed the direction of his finger, pulled back the curtain and stared.

Matt Cavanaugh had brought over a small power washer. Using care, he splayed the jet of water against the siding in a slow and steady back-and-forth sweep, his attention locked on the task at hand.

“Pretty nice of him.” Hank’s words drew her gaze around.

“Very.”

“Must have seen you working out there.”

Callie was pretty sure the flush started somewhere around her toes and worked its way up. “Probably just wants to make sure we can use daylight hours on the subdivision.”

“Most likely.”

“Dad, I—”

She stopped as Jake clamored down the stairs, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. “Matt’s washing the front of the house!”

“He is, yes.”

“Then we can put up the Christmas lights this weekend!” He raced for the door and barreled across the porch, then down the steps and around the front. Callie watched from inside, pretty sure Matt couldn’t hear a word Jake was saying.

It didn’t matter. Matt’s grin said he understood a little boy’s excitement. He nodded and sent Jake a quick thumbs-up as he guided the spray around the windows. He spotted Callie watching and for a quick beat he forgot to move the water wand.

Oops. His look of chagrin said he’d peeled a bit of paint.

He swept her one more quick look, barely noticeable except for the wink. And the smile, just crooked enough to be endearing.

Callie rolled her eyes, shook a finger at him and tried not to smile. She couldn’t feed this flirtation and she had plenty on her plate dealing with Jake and Dad, but…

She let the curtain fall into place as Jake raced back in to grab a bagel and his lunch. “It looks great out there, Mom.” He switched his look to Hank and raised both brows. “So we can decorate this weekend? Right?”

“When we’re not working,” Hank promised.

“Perfect.” Jake gave Callie a quick hug and pointed toward the clock. “Matt says you’ve got fifteen minutes before you have to be at work and that you might want to get your coffee to go.”

“Oh, he did, did he?”

Jake grinned and headed outside. “He’s funny.”

Funny. Right. She shooed Jake on. “Have a good day.”

“I will.” She heard him hail Matt as he headed for the road, The General at his heels, his voice upbeat. “See you later, Matt!”

She refused to check out Matt’s reply, to see if he heard the boy’s call.

She never overslept. Ever.

Her father poured a fresh cup of coffee into a thermal cup and swept her and the clock a look. “Twelve minutes and counting.”

Laughter bubbled up from somewhere far away, a different kind of laughter. Sweet. Girlish. Kind of silly, actually.

But nice.

She hustled up the stairs, donned her layers and refused to think about the nice thing Matt was doing, saving her work, saving her time, precious commodities these days. And the joy in Jake’s step…

That thought nipped the gladness. She didn’t want Jake hurt. He’d taken a shine to Matt, but Matt was only temporary. If Jake grew too close…

Are you worried about Jake or you?

Both. Callie tugged her hoodie into place, grabbed a pair of fingerless gloves and headed back downstairs.

Matt’s grin was the first thing she saw as she rounded the bottom step, his shirt cuffs damp from the sprayer, his hands wound tight around a mug of coffee. He flicked a gaze toward the clock, then back to her. “Right on time.”

She faced him, tongue-tied. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t get beyond that smile to create a quick comeback. And he saw that. Recognized the reaction. Probably because girls fell at his feet on a regular basis. His grin widened, lighting his eyes.

Not me, not now.

Callie grabbed her insulated coffee mug, not ready to play this game. Maybe she’d never be ready, and that might be okay. She headed out the door with Matt following, but as she passed the front corner of the house, she couldn’t ignore what he’d done. She turned back and caught him studying her, his gaze curious. Maybe a little concerned. “Thank you.” She waved toward the front and a hint of his smile returned.

“You’re welcome.”

“It looks much better.”

He nodded, quiet, still watching her, one eye narrowed as if wondering something.