Ruth Herne - His Mistletoe Family

Her approval evoked the boy’s smile, still tentative, but there.

Baby steps, Brett decided. He knew that regimen, all right.

He watched her pull away, then stared with surprise when she angled the car left, then right and pulled into the far right lot alongside the cooperative. A light blinked on in the back of the original furniture store. Then another.

She lived in the recently approved apartment behind the old furniture store. How had he missed that?

Then another thought occurred, bringing back her conversation yesterday, her concern, the money issues, the time constraints.

He let his gaze wander Bennington Station, the new “Street of Shops”-type shopping experience enjoying a grand opening month to beat the band. Realization struck hard and deep.

She was Haley Jennings, Frederick Bennington’s granddaughter, the mastermind behind the burgeoning enterprise spearheading new business opportunities and success in this corner of Allegany County.

And he was slated to do her fire safety inspection Monday morning.

The lights blinked, mocking him, as if daring him to find something wrong on Monday. Like she needed anything else on her plate right now.

But as interim inspector, the job was his while Bud Schmidt recovered from cancer surgery, and until then...

Haley Jennings would have to contend with him. He could only pray none of her merchants or subcontractors had messed up, but Brett knew the score. In the height of holiday shopping frenzy, everyone tried to use as much space as possible to promote themselves and their products. Improperly wired lighting displays, blocked exits, windows that wouldn’t open with the rain or snow...

All things that could spell disaster. People hurt. Lives lost. Too often a little caution could have provided a totally different outcome.

He ground his jaw and wondered how he’d missed her presence all these months, but the reality of that bit hard.

He’d been hiding, plain and simple. And the time for seclusion was over.

Chapter Three

Haley’s cell phone buzzed as she clicked the bedroom door shut, wondering if little boys should bathe every night.

She hoped not.

She withdrew the phone, saw LuAnn’s name and quickly answered. “LuAnn, hi. How’s everything? Is Jess okay? And Shelby Rose? Is she doing fine?”

LuAnn’s laugh held a hint of question. “Jess is fine, Michaela’s excited, the baby’s beautiful and has a healthy set of lungs just like her mother. How did you find out about her? I didn’t want to call you at work because I knew how crazy today would be.”

“Brett told me.”

“Brett told you?” Surprise hiked the older woman’s voice.

“The boys weren’t exactly cooperative today, and by the time I got Rory home, they were starving. All those nice leftovers you provided for us yesterday? They won’t touch them. And by eight o’clock at night, I was too tired to fight it and not mean enough to starve ’em.”

“So you stopped at the Crossroads for food.”

“Brett made them nuggets and fries.”

“He... What?” LuAnn’s surprise pitched higher. “We don’t have chicken nuggets at the Crossroads.”

“I know.” Haley breathed a sigh as she sank into the corner of her “new” resting place. She’d given the boys her big bed and taken the couch. She’d pretend the old cast-off sofa provided great support and she’d ignore the lumps, at least until life settled down after the holidays. Come January she should be able to breathe.

But she wasn’t wishing the biggest shopping season of the year away. These eight weeks of sales provided enough profit for many to stay in business over the cold, dark days of a northern winter. She’d learned that in Lewisburg when she worked at the Street of Shops throughout her college years. She’d watched, listened and learned. When opportunity came her way in the shape of her grandfather’s bequest of the somewhat-worn buildings, she was ready. She hoped.

“Well, I won’t keep you, dear. I just wanted to say that Charlie and I will take the boys tomorrow. They can play here with Michaela and you’re free to work as long as you need to.”

Gratitude clogged Haley’s throat. “LuAnn, that’s a lovely gesture, but—”

“There’ll be no buts,” LuAnn cut in firmly. “We’re two grown adults watching one little girl. Having the boys here will keep her busy. You’re actually doing us a favor. Charlie is insisting that he’s played the last game of Dora Memory in this lifetime, and because that’s Michaela’s current favorite, she wants to play it nonstop.”

That information plugged another piece of the child-puzzle into Haley’s thinking. “So that’s normal for preschoolers?”

LuAnn laughed. “Absolutely. They grab on to a thought or a game and run with it repeatedly. Then they drop that and hang on to the next thing that takes their fancy. All quite normal, dear.”

“And Todd’s stuffed cat? Panther?” She said the little stuffed cat’s name with a firm question mark attached. “It’s not weird that he won’t put it down? Ever? And gets really nervous when he does?”

“He’s lost a great deal.” LuAnn’s voice went soft and reassuring. “Sometimes when we lose what we love, we cling tighter to what’s left behind.”

Words of wisdom. And that would explain why Todd mimicked Tyler repeatedly. There was safety in continuity, in same old, same old. Haley didn’t know that from childhood experience. Her choppy upbringing held no horrid skeletons in the closet, but it didn’t hold much substance either. And her mother would never understand why Haley drove straight to New Jersey when she’d heard of the boys’ plight, grabbed the little fellows and brought them back to the Southern Tier of New York.

No. Her mother would have sent a generous check and moved on with her life, which made Haley more determined to distance herself from the money-is-everything mind-set her mother and stepfather embraced.

“Haley, are you still there?”

“Sorry, LuAnn. Just thinking. You know how dangerous that is for a blonde.”

LuAnn laughed. “Not for you. I’ve never met a sweeter, funnier, smarter or more industrious young woman and I’ve been around a long time, Haley. You’re one of a kind.”

Oh, those words of affirmation. They sparked emotion in Haley. She blinked tears back and put the emotion on hold, a skill she’d learned long ago. She didn’t know if indifference was as painful as physical trials and tribulations in childhood, but she understood the heartache of it firsthand.

An absentee father, an uncaring mother and a posh setting that pretended everything was all right. It had never been all right, but she’d moved up and out, determined to be her own person. This new enterprise achieved that, and made her proud. “LuAnn, you’re sure it’s not too much for you guys?”

“Because we’re old?” LuAnn wondered out loud, laughing.

“No, because...” Haley tripped over her words, trying to backpeddle. She failed miserably. “I—”

“It will be fine, dear. Just fine. Charlie will swing by at eight o’clock. And if they’re still in their jammies, just send clothes along. They can get dressed here.”

Another reprieve. She had no idea that getting children dressed could be such an ordeal and wasn’t sure if that was normal or not. Were they testing her?

Yes.

Were they winning?

She wrinkled her nose. So far, they were. And she couldn’t deny she’d felt a certain sense of relief when she left the boys in Rory’s capable hands that morning. Was that an understandable reaction or was she lacking the mother gene?

“Give it time, Haley.” LuAnn’s gentle wisdom uplifted her. “We live such fast-paced lives today that we forget to sit back. Be still. Breathe. Let things unfold.”