Gail Martin - Finding Christmas

“Gail Gaymer Martin’s best book to date. Real conflict and very likeable characters enhance this wonderful romantic story.”

—Romantic Times on LOVING HEARTS

“…A romantic suspense novel you’ll want to read—during the day!”

—Romantic Times on A LOVE FOR SAFEKEEPING

“…an emotional, skillfully written story about mature subject matter. You’ll probably need a box of tissues for this one.”

—Romantic Times on UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR

“In The Christmas Kite, Gail Martin probes the depths of love and forgiveness. A tender and heartwarming read.”

—Lyn Cote, author of SUMMER’S END

“The Christmas Kite is a tender romance, the story of two wounded people learning to live and love again. And I guarantee that little Mac will steal your heart. Settle into your favorite chair and enjoy.”

—Robin Lee Hatcher, bestselling author of FIRSTBORN and SPEAK TO ME OF LOVE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For the Son of Man came to seek

and to save what was lost.

—Luke 19:10

To Bob with much love

for making every Christmas a delight.

Many thanks to Marvel Erdodi for her banking information and to Detective Ron Wieczorek of the Grosse Pointe City Department of Public Safety for helping me find the perfect place for a murder. Thanks also to Jennifer Wells at The Parade Company for details on the Michigan Thanksgiving Parade. Finally, to my Chi Libris pals: Robert Whitlow, Jim Bell and Tom Morrisey, who provided helpful law firm info.

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

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Mommy!”

The plea whispered in her mind. Not a voice exactly, but a feeling.

Joanne Fuller spun around, overwhelmed by the sensation. “Mandy?” A chill rolled down her back.

Her legs gave way and she sank to the floor, covering her face with her hands. Her three-year-old’s image hung in her thoughts like a star, once shining but now dimmed.

“Mommy!”

The fear-filled voice resounded in her head again.

Joanne pressed her hand against her heart to steady the beat. Why now, after three years? She knew it couldn’t be real. Yet lately, the cry had come to her in the night more than once.

Steadying herself against a chair, Joanne pushed herself up from the floor and waited for the dizziness to pass. Why was this happening? She’d gone through counseling, and the horrifying nightmares had passed. She’d become stronger, but she’d begun to question her sanity since the night her daughter’s cry had come to her in a dream.

The telephone’s ring pierced the silence and Joanne’s heart rose to her throat. She darted across the room and grasped the receiver, and when she said hello her voice came out breathless and strained.

“Joanne?”

She heard her name reverberating through the line across a canyon.

“Benjamin?”

“It’s me. What in the world is wrong?”

She crumpled into a chair, clutched her chest to calm the thudding that felt as if it would break her ribs. “It’s a long story. I can’t talk about it now.” Tears filled her eyes—tears of relief and anxiety.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice as reassuring as a morning cup of coffee.

“Where are you?” she asked, trying to get her thoughts together.

“Here in Detroit. I’m back.”

“Will you be here for the holidays?” Christmas. The vision rose in Joanne’s mind, and she felt overcome by the feeling of loneliness.

“I sure will. I’m here for good, I hope.”

The news settled over her, and she relaxed her shoulders. “That’s wonderful news. Will I see you soon?”

His warm chuckle met her ear.

“That’s why I’m calling. How about dinner? Tonight.”

Her stomach churned at the thought of food. Stress always affected her that way, but to see her old friend, she would force herself to eat. “Tonight’s good. I need company.”

“It sounds like it,” he said. His voice radiated tenderness. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

After she hung up, Joanne sat without moving, amazed at the emotion that filled her. Benjamin Drake. She hadn’t seen him since the funeral. Gooseflesh rolled down her arms at the memory. She, Greg and Mandy. Such joy. She’d expected it to last a lifetime. A perfect husband, a perfect child—both taken one cold November night. She’d begged God to tell her why, but she’d never heard His answer.

Joanne’s gaze shifted to the calendar stuck to the side of the refrigerator next to the curled, yellowed page of crayon scribbles. Tears pressed against her eyes again, and she tugged her focus from her three-year-old daughter’s drawing to the November dates. They’d died nearly three years ago today.

Drawing back her shoulders, Joanne hoisted herself from the chair, suddenly feeling tired, but thoughts of Benjamin returned and so did a smile. She hurried into her bedroom and pulled off her business suit, then rummaged through her closet and slipped on a skirt and sweater. She replaced her pumps with casual slip-ons, and her knotted calves eased as she settled into the soft suede shoes.

Joanne moved to the vanity and eyed her once-neat hair. She pulled out the clasps and brushed the long strands, ready to capture the wispy ends, but taking another look, she let it fall around her shoulders. Thinking of her old friend, she felt younger than she had in years.

As she turned toward the door, Joanne’s gaze fell on a small photo on her dresser of Mandy playing in a pile of autumn leaves. She’d taken the picture a month before her daughter’s death. Joanne picked up the photo and studied it. She could see Greg’s rake at the edge of the picture. Now she wished she’d stepped back to capture them both, but in those days, she and Greg only had eyes for Mandy. Joanne’s heart felt heavy again as she set the frame on the dresser top and left the room.

While she searched for her handbag, the doorbell rang. When Joanne opened the door she caught her breath. “Benjamin.” A rush of admiration washed over her—his dark wavy hair and chocolate-brown eyes, his familiar easy smile. “You look wonderful.”

His gaze drifted over her as he grinned. “You look beautiful as always.” He grasped her shoulders and pressed his wind-cooled lips against her cheek. “Ready?”

“I am,” she said, lifting a hand to capture his chin. “It’s so good to see you.”

She opened the closet and pulled out her jacket. Benjamin held it while she pushed her arms into the sleeves, then shrugged it on. She tossed her purse over her shoulder and checked the door lock before pulling the door closed.

Benjamin clasped her elbow as she moved down the snowy steps to the sidewalk. He opened the passenger door for Joanne, then rounded the car to the driver side. “What are you in the mood for? Italian? Mexican? American?”

“I’m in the mood to visit,” she said, patting his arm. “Whatever you’d like is fine.”

“Let’s try Jimmy’s,” he said, backing out of the driveway. “They have fish and Black Angus. Even pasta if you prefer it.”