Ruth Herne - His Mistletoe Family

“Church isn’t stupid,” Haley corrected Todd as she grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and tossed Tyler’s across the small sofa. “It’s nice.”

Tyler snorted.

Todd followed suit.

Neither made a move to put their coats on.

Haley decided reasoning might help. “And you’ve never been to this church—”

“We’ve never been to any church,” Tyler interrupted. He folded his arms and braced his legs, a miniature man-in-the-making and too stubborn for his own good. “And if my mom and dad wanted me to go to church, they’d have taken me.”

Not to be outdone, Todd mimicked the action and the out-thrust lower jaw. “Me, too.”

Nothing in Psych 101 prepared Haley to argue with Tyler. So she wouldn’t. “Mom and Dad were busy. I’m not. Therefore we’re going to church.”

“But!”

“But!”

“No buts. My house. My rules. And Sunday morning is time for God. For worship. For music.”

“Could just get a stupid radio,” Tyler muttered, but he grabbed his jacket, slung it over his head and opened the door.

“I hate this jacket,” Todd whined as Haley bent to help him connect the zipper. “It’s dumb. And Panther doesn’t like it either.”

“Inanimate objects can’t be dumb, but it is a pain-in-the-neck zipper. And I think you’ve almost outgrown it, kid. And Panther’s a pretty smart cat.” She directed her gaze down to the worn stuffed animal. “He wants you warm.”

“Really?” Todd’s face lit up. “Well, that’s nice.” He clutched the black cat tighter. “I can get a new coat maybe?”

“As soon as I find time to shop,” Haley promised. She’d checked her bank account that morning. No transfer of funds as yet, and that meant she’d still have to invent time in her Monday schedule to find out why the second draft of the bank loan hadn’t been initiated. Concern tweaked her. What if the bank backed out? What if they wanted to renegotiate terms? Would her lawyer charge her more? Would the bank do that? Could they do that?

She wasn’t sure, which meant she’d be working under a cloud the rest of the day, wondering. Waiting. Hoping the draft would be released in time to pay her subcontractors by midweek. Contracted workers didn’t take kindly to being stiffed anytime of year, but at Christmas? While finishing up the final phase of a large contract?

Praying nothing was amiss, she got the boys into the car, drove the three-quarters of a mile into Jamison, found a parking spot and realized she’d be almost twenty minutes late for the first service at Good Shepherd, but ten minutes early for the White Church at the Bend.

The ticking clock spelled victory for the White Church.

She grasped a little-boy hand in each of hers and climbed the steps, glad the steady rain had given it a rest, at least for now.

“Haley.”

Matt Cavanaugh’s voice welcomed her as she and the boys entered the newly refinished church. Matt had been her initial contractor for Bennington Station, and he was paid in full, so she didn’t have to feel embarrassed to see him, an emotion she loathed. “Matt. Callie. How nice to see you guys.”

Matt Cavanaugh gave her a half hug, then squatted low to meet the boys. “You must be Tyler.”

Tyler nodded, shy but not too taken aback.

“And you’re Todd.”

“I’m free.” Todd wriggled three chubby fingers into the air like a beacon, his other hand clutching Panther.

“Three?” Matt’s face displayed wide-eyed appreciation for that bit of information. “Great age, buddy. This is my wife, Callie.” He stepped back as his wife smiled down at the boys. “And our son, Jake. And our daughter, Morgan.”

“A baby,” Tyler noted, unimpressed.

“We like babies,” Todd insisted.

“You do,” Tyler argued. His arms clenched his middle again. “I don’t. They smell.”

“Um, well, that’s enough now, boys.” Haley made a face at Callie and Callie laughed, shrugging it off. The newborn baby girl in Matt’s arms slept on, unfazed by the boy’s gruff appraisal.

“They’re just at that age where if it pops in their head, it comes out their mouth,” Callie explained. “No filter.”

“You’ve got that right.” Haley sent a wistful glance Jake’s way. “So it gets better, right? Because Jake is always a sweetheart and he’s what? Nine? Ten?”

“Nine. And yes, it gets better.” Callie Cavanaugh reached out and gave Haley a hug. “Promise. And it’s nice to see you over here. Si will have something to hold over Reverend Hannity’s head when the reverend realizes you came here.”

“Timing.” Haley aimed her gaze to the boys and her watch. “We’ll start earlier next week, but I like coming here sometimes. Listening to Simon. He’s a character.”

Matt laughed. “And then some. And you like the upgrades to the church?”

Haley swept the refreshed church a look and offered Matt a shoulder chuck. “You’re fishing for compliments when you know you did great. Yes, between the new roof and the plaster and paint, it’s a huge difference. But mostly I love what you did with the pews. Cleaning them. Lightening them.” She stroked a hand across the broad-backed oak seating. “It’s beautiful.”

Matt smiled at her, but then his attention shifted up. Way up. “Brett, hey. How’s everything? Good to see you.”

Haley’s heart fluttered, hoping there was only one Brett in town. Heat suffused her cheeks in a childish reaction that felt silly and good all at once.

She turned. Looked up. Her good intentions flew out the window, a neat trick because the cold rain meant no windows were open.

He looked marvelous. Tall. Broad. Freshly shaved. He wore a charcoal, tan and brown tweed jacket over a blended-brown turtleneck that matched his hazel eyes. He was, by definition, gorgeous, and she’d love to pretend he wasn’t, but acting had never been her forte. He looked down, caught her eye and smiled.

Just smiled.

But that smile held her gaze and put a choke hold on her heart despite the fact that they’d met only days before. She couldn’t break the look if she tried, and she really didn’t want to try, but people began seating themselves around them, getting ready for worship.

Which was exactly why she’d come, right? To give the boys a taste of faith. Of family. Of community.

With Brett Stanton so close, the only thing she could wrap her mind around was wondering how a man this big, strong and rugged hadn’t been married off yet. These days, that should raise flags of concern, but not with him. And that made her wonder why.

A soft guitar strum reminded her to find a seat.

Brett stepped back, motioned a hand left and let her and the boys file into the filling pew. There wasn’t enough room for all four of them, and she realized too late he’d given up his seat for her and the boys, but when she turned to thank him, he was gone, into the back, seated quietly in the last row.

“And the first shall be last.”

He didn’t look her way or blanket her with another smile, but it felt good to have him there. To know he sat nearby.

* * *

She was willing to rise to a challenge, Brett decided. He’d suspected as much, but seeing her this morning, with the boys’ stubborn little chins set in determined objection, he knew she had what it takes to make this parenting gig work. But a little help from some friends couldn’t hurt.

You’re not her friend, his conscience scolded.

But I will be, Brett decided. Pastor Simon MacDaniel strolled into the polished and reconditioned sanctuary, and Brett realized two things. One, that Simon’s gentle charismatic nature was drawing more people every week, and two...

That it would take more than Simon’s charm to make him forget that Haley Jennings and two needy little boys sat a mere thirty feet away. If her tumble of golden hair wasn’t enough of a distraction, Todd’s little smile, turned just toward him, clinched the deal.