Michael hated that cynical smile. A boy Jason’s age shouldn’t have a care in the world, shouldn’t know about men lying to his mother, but Michael figured he’d probably been looking out for his mom since the second his father farted off to the Himalayas to find himself. Just before falling asleep, Samantha had shared a few secrets with him.
Some men had no sense of responsibility. This boy was working overtime to make up for his father’s lack.
“I miss my dad.”
The stark grief in Jason’s voice broke Michael’s heart.
“I know you do. I don’t blame you.” Unfortunately, it was too soon to start talking about becoming the new father in Jason’s life.
“I’m more responsible than he was. I plan to love your mom forever.”
“You don’t mean it.” In the kid’s tone, Michael heard both disbelief and hope.
Since Jason was no longer struggling, Michael released him.
Jason sat back and crossed his arms, mulish and righteous, not willing to give in too easily. This child had had his dreams shattered countless times already.
“I do mean it,” Michael stressed. “I know it’s hard for you to believe. It’s been fast, I admit that, but it’s true.”
Michael wasn’t used to talking or sharing. He held things in, but Jason deserved nothing less than the truth.
“When your mom walks into a room, she lights it up,” Michael tried to explain. “She’s like a ray of sunshine.”
“I know, right? She’s a happy person. But men don’t see that.” Still agitated, Jason knocked his heels against the sofa. “Men see the way she looks. Her blond hair. Her amazing pretty face. Her big...you know...and they don’t see anything else. It was like that in Las Vegas all the time ’cause they thought she was one of the showgirls.”
“Men are shallow.” Michael nodded. Hard to fight the truth.
“Yeah, like that creep Greg. He didn’t love Mom. He only wanted to...you know.”
Michael would have to ask Sammy about Greg. “There’s more to her than that.”
Jason stopped his agitated knocking. “Yeah. She doesn’t light up rooms ’cause she’s pretty, but ’cause of all the goodness inside that leaks out of her.”
Pure, simple beauty out of the mouth of a babe.
The goodness inside that leaks out of her.
That was exactly right.
Jason might be only nine years old, but he was wise beyond his years. He was a hell of a lot older than he should be. It was time for him to be a kid again.
A soft sound alerted Michael to Sammy’s presence. She stood in the living room doorway quietly crying, her inner goodness leaking out of her.
He returned his attention to Jason. “You know what I see when I look at you?”
Jason shook his head, eyes too big in his young face.
“I see the man you’re going to be, and it’s a good one. Someday you are going to be even more strong and wise and trustworthy than you are today.”
The kid had it all already going on in spades.
“But right now,” Michael went on, “you need to just be a kid.”
“I can’t,” Jason wailed, face crumpling, falling apart again. “Who’ll take care of my mom?”
Michael moved from the coffee table to sit on the sofa, taking Jason onto his lap as though he were as small as Lily. Jason didn’t resist.
Michael cradled his head against his shoulder, infusing Jason with all the security his strong arms could offer.
As a testament to how upset Jason was, he didn’t object to being held like a toddler.
When Jason had cried himself out, Michael said, “You never have to worry about your mom again. From now on, I’ll take care of her.”
A quiet humph emanated from the woman hiding in the doorway. Michael held back a laugh. He’d get an earful about that later.
Yes, she could take care of herself, he knew that, but he wanted to be the one she turned to in times of need. He wanted his shoulder to be the one she leaned on.
One thing was certain. He’d only just found Samantha. No way was he ever letting her walk out of his life again.
“I’m really tired,” Jason murmured, sounding waterlogged.
“I bet you are. A good cry takes a lot out of a man.”
“Yeah.” He pulled away from Michael’s chest. “Don’t tell my mom I cried, okay? I don’t want her to worry.”
Michael heard soft scurrying down the hallway as Samantha returned to his room.
“I won’t tell her.” An easy promise to keep.
“I’m going back to bed.” Jason climbed from his lap and stood up, cheeks tinged pink.
Time to help the boy save face. Michael stood, too. “Thanks for doing a great job of taking care of your mom. I’m proud of you.”
He stuck out his hand.
Jason stared, then shook it.
“I’ll take over from here,” Michael assured him.
“’Kay. Thanks, Michael.” Jason walked back to his bedroom looking about fifty pounds lighter.
Michael returned to his room and took Sammy into his arms.
“It’s all good,” he said. “Jason is fine.”
“I heard everything you said. Did you mean it?”
“Every word of it.”
“Oh. I think I’m going to cry again.” She burrowed against him.
“You did a great job with Jason. He’s an amazing kid.”
“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” Her voice sounded as watery as her son’s had.
“You’re well grounded. You have common sense. You haven’t let your beauty go to your head. Your parents did a good job, too.”
“My parents had nothing to do with it.” Michael reeled away from the rancor in her voice. If distaste could be made visible, she’d done so with her curled lips and tight fists.
“It was all Travis,” she said, voice softened. “He’s the one who raised me. He did a damned good job of it.”
He touched her hair, brushing it back from her face. “He sure did.”
He urged her into bed and pulled her against him.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
Michael Moreno fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas-in-February morning arrived early with Lily jumping onto Samantha’s bed. Sammy awoke to a sharp elbow to her ribs and a loud, “Oomph.”
“Sammy, happy Christmas-in-February morning! Can we start now?”
Samantha cast a bleary eye toward the other side of the bed. Michael must have decided to move back to the sofa. Wise man. “It isn’t even light out yet. For Pete’s sake, what time is it?”
Lily shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t tell time, Sammy. I’m too young.”
“We’ll have to fix that pronto,” Samantha grumbled. She picked up her watch.
“Five fifteen?” She groaned and collapsed against her pillow. “I need my sleeeeep.”
Lily giggled.
Sammy distracted her with whispered talk for a while but Lily said, “Sammy, I’m tired of waiting.”
Samantha checked the time again. “Five thirty.” She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold Lily off.
“Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll get one present and bring it back for you to open in here. Okay?”
Lily bounded off the bed, but Samantha snagged the back of her pajama top and pulled her back.
“You stay here.” The last thing she wanted was for Lily to see the stockings before the rest of the family was up.
“Here’s the deal,” she said. “You wait for me here and I will bring you back one present to open. If you won’t stay here, you don’t get to open gifts early. Got it?”
Lily nodded vigorously.
Samantha rolled out of bed and s
hoved her feet into the slippers she’d crocheted with remnants from the yarn she’d used for the boys’ mittens.
She tiptoed down the dark hallway and strategized about gift opening. Which would Lily be most excited about? Samantha would save that for last. Definitely her clothes. Lily would be thrilled with her Christmas-in-February outfit.
In the end, Samantha chose one of Puff’s outfits for Lily to open early.
Michael whispered, “What’s up?”
“Lily’s awake. I’m trying to appease her with one present.”
“Turn on the tree lights.” His deep voice rumbled across the room. He lay on his back with his hands under his head. She wanted nothing more than to crawl under the old quilt with him.
She turned on the Christmas tree lights and sighed. Beautiful. The tree glowed in the darkness, festive and pretty, dispelling the gloom.
She picked up one of Puff’s gifts and walked softly back to the hallway. There, leaning as far out of her bedroom as she could, stood Lily.
When Lily tried to get a better look at the sliver of living room at the end of the hallway, she toppled over onto her side and let out a wail.
Samantha ran to her and gathered her up, muffling her crying with her shoulder.
“Shh.” She hustled into the bedroom and closed the door before the boys woke. She’d been hoping that maybe Lily could be persuaded to stay in bed for another hour or two after opening her gift.
Not likely, but a tired woman could always dream.
She sat on her bed with Lily in her lap. “Where are you hurt?”
“Nothing hurts, Sammy.”
Samantha frowned. “Then why are you crying?”
“I want my present.”
“You’ll get it. Why do you think you won’t?”
“I fell out into the hallway. My toe was still in the room, but I lost my balance. I didn’t leave the room on purpose.”
“I know that, honey. Now stop the waterworks. Here’s your gift.”
Lily’s tears shut off pretty darn quickly and she reached for the brightly decorated package.
Tearing at the paper that had taken them so long to produce—plain newsprint paper decorated with stars made from potatoes and a gold stamp pad—Lily made quick work of opening it.
“It’s little tiny clothes. Look! Pretty clothes!”
“Yes, I know. I made them.”
Lily held the skirt against her body. “It’s too small, Sammy.”
“It’s not for you, silly. Think. Who would wear a skirt that small?”
Lily’s face lit up. “Puff!”
She jumped off the bed, retrieved the doll from the floor and climbed back up beside Samantha. She started tearing off Puff’s old pants so roughly Sammy feared they would tear.
“Let me. Then you can put the skirt on.”
She undressed the doll, then Lily took over and managed to get the skirt on. “Sammy, she looks so pretty.”
She didn’t. Puff looked old and ragged, but the skirt helped considerably. Lily held her with love and that was all that mattered.
Samantha lay down while Lily talked to her doll. Eventually, the child lay down beside Sammy and the two of them dozed.
An hour and a half later, Samantha awoke in a better mood.
She heard whispers in the hallway. The boys. They couldn’t have been too quiet because she heard them through the closed door. So...whispers that were designed to awaken her.
She grinned.
She should make them suffer and lie here for another half hour, but she didn’t have it in her.
For the second time that morning, she slipped out of bed, not worrying about waking Lily. Christmas-in-February morning was officially about to begin.
She opened the door and found three eager boys standing in their pajamas. Just then the back door opened and Michael stepped in, bringing with him the early-morning chill of a new winter day.
Memories of last night’s intimacy shimmered between them like a heat wave. He looked too serious.
“Merry Christmas in February!” Samantha declared and the boys erupted in laughter and shouting.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s do Christmas in our pajamas.”
When she turned to Michael, she forced herself to sound normal. “How are the animals?”
“Good. Sound.” His cheeks flushed and he continued, “They got extra feed this morning for Christmas.”
Oh, my. Was he getting into the spirit of the day?
“Christmas in February,” Lily corrected, rubbing her eyes. “Daddy, look at Puff!”
She launched herself at her father just as he was getting out of his shearling coat. He caught her with one arm and hauled her against his chest.
“I can’t look at Puff.”
“Why not, Daddy?”
“I’m too busy looking at my beautiful daughter!” He blew a raspberry on her neck and she giggled.
When he finished, Lily said, “Daddy, you have to look at Puff. She’s different this morning.”
Michael took the doll from her and raised his brows exaggeratedly. “She’s got a new skirt! How did that happen? Did somebody start Christmas in February early?”
A small hand tugged on Samantha’s arm. Mick, expression crestfallen, watched her with eyes full of accusation. “How come Lily got to open a present before us?”
“Because she woke me at five fifteen and wouldn’t let me sleep. I would have done anything to get more sleep. I bribed her with a present.” She brushed an errant lock of hair from Mick’s eyes. “Someday when you’re a parent, you will learn the true value and necessity of bribery.”
Mick hunched his shoulders. She’d noticed he liked it when she touched him with motherly affection. “Can we open ours now?”
“You bet. Everyone into the living room and Michael will distribute gifts.”
Everyone piled into the room while Samantha started the fire and Michael turned on the coffeepot.
He entered the room and nodded his approval of her fire. “You’re getting good at that.”
“Thanks. I’ll be sad when spring is here and we won’t need a fire anymore.” Samantha could have bitten her tongue. She wouldn’t be here in the spring, so what difference would it make? Would she?
He hesitated, as though he didn’t know how to broach the subject, either. Fortunately, the children hadn’t noticed. They were too busy ogling the presents under the tree.
Michael clapped his hands and they startled. “Everyone away from the tree. Christmas-in-February presents are under my jurisdiction. I get to hand them out.”
Samantha could have hugged him. Maybe the day would work out, after all. “Everyone onto the sofa.”
The boys scrambled to get there first while Michael studied the name tags on the packages under the tree.
“Stockings first,” she murmured.
Michael made a U-turn and lifted full stockings from the mantel, handing them out to each child.
“Looks like Santa found the house all right, even in February.”
Lily and Mick, who’d been too young to remember the stockings their mother had put up for them, handled these with reverence.
Colt said, “Mom, Santa even gave one to me and Jason. We already got ours at December Christmas.”
Jason caught her eye and smiled. He hadn’t believed in Santa for a few years, but she knew he would play along for the sake of the younger children.
Samantha winked at him. “I guess Santa didn’t want you to feel left out.”
“Go ahead, kids.” Michael seemed excited. “Open them.”
They poked and oohed and poured the contents out onto their laps, cheap trinkets, chocolate and candy scattering everywhere.
Michael poured coffee for himself and Samantha, doctoring hers perfectly. Of all of the things he’d
done since her arrival, this touched her the most, the thoughtfulness of the gesture, this sharing of small intimacies.
It was all so blessedly normal, but it had never been part of her life, not with her parents and not with her husband.
Michael stood across the room sipping his coffee and smiling down at the children.
Samantha’s eyes watered. Shaken and shattered by the simplicity but utter perfection of the moment, she tried to sip her coffee, but her hand shook.
She set it down on the coffee table.
Mick saved her from making a fool of herself by crying when he shouted, “When can we open all of those?”
He pointed to the presents under the tree.
“Load all of your stocking stuffers back into your stockings and put them on your beds.” Samantha stood and directed like a drill sergeant. “There’s enough mess in here already. Let’s clear it up so nothing gets thrown out by mistake.”
While the children did as they were told, she got the recycle box from the back porch and set it up at the far end of the sofa.
Michael handed out the smaller packages for the boys. “Lily, you got a present already this morning, so let the boys open their first ones now.”
Lily sidled close to Jason to watch him open his gift. Like the very patient older brother he’d grown to be, he let her get in the way.
The boys liked their colorful new mittens. They said all the appropriate thank-yous, but she and Michael knew they were waiting for the main-event presents, the bigger boxes. She’d caught the younger boys shaking them a couple of times already.
Lily got her other small gift next. She squealed when she opened the new top and jacket for Puff. She wanted everyone to wait while she dressed her doll, but Michael put his foot down.
“We can’t make the boys wait, Lily. Besides, don’t you want your big present?”
“Yes!” She dropped Puff, who stared wide-eyed from the floor as though in betrayal.
Samantha picked up the doll and her new clothing and set them on the coffee table.
Lily tore at the paper and her new skirt spilled out. She held it up by a corner of the hem. “What is it, Sammy?”
“It’s a new skirt for you to wear today.” She held it up properly by the waist.
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