A Little Bit of Holiday Magic

by Melissa McClone

  Until now.

  She combed her fingers through damp strands, all too aware of how she’d let herself go these past two and a half years. Not that she wanted a man in their life. She could have stayed in Columbus and married Kyle if she’d wanted a husband.

  Liam needs a father. You need a husband. You’ll grow to love me.

  As if saying “I do” was all it took to make a marriage work. Grace shook the memory of Staff Sergeant Kyle Gabriel’s proposal from her mind. She dropped her hand to her side. “I don’t know how I’ll repay you for tonight.”

  “No need.” Bill motioned to the empty chair next to Liam. “Send me a postcard once you’re settled in Astoria, and we’ll call it good.”

  Relief washed over Grace, grateful that he hadn’t asked for more, for something she might not want to give. A postcard would be easy. She would have to remember to get his address. She sat. “I can manage that.”

  “You mentioned trying something different by moving to Astoria. Why there and not a bigger city?”

  “The Goonies.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There’s a movie called The Goonies,” she explained. “When I was dating my husband, Damon was saving money to buy his truck, so we didn’t go out on dates that cost a lot of money. One time he came over to my house to watch movies. We saw The Goonies. Damon said when we got married we should go to Astoria for our honeymoon.”

  “Astoria, Oregon?”

  She shrugged, waiting for hot tears to prick her eyes. Surprisingly, they didn’t come. Sadness and grief ebbed like the tides. “It sounded cool to a couple of kids from Iowa. We didn’t have the money for a honeymoon after we eloped. We got married at city hall. Two excited kids—me in my Sunday best and Damon in his army dress uniform–with a bouquet of carnations and two plain gold wedding bands. Going to Astoria ended up on our to-do list.”

  “You and your son are doing it now.”

  Grace nodded. She thought Damon would approve.

  Liam yawned.

  She took the mug from his hand. A preemptive move. “Tired, baby?”

  He shook his head. “P-nut tired. He ready for nighty-night.”

  “It’s been a long day for Peanut. You, too.” Bill pulled out Liam’s chair. “I’ll show you the guest rooms.”

  “One room is fine.” She stared at the dirty cups and spoons on the table. “Less of a mess to clean up tomorrow.”

  “Help yourself to the spare toothbrushes and toothpaste in the bathroom drawer.”

  “Have a lot of unexpected guests?” she asked.

  “Not a lot, but I like to be prepared.” He winked. “You never know who might knock on the door.”

  His tone teased, but Grace doubted his houseguests were stranded like her and Liam. Most likely they were attractive young females eager to spend the night.

  The realization unsettled her.

  Maybe she was wrong.

  For all she knew, he had a girlfriend or a fiancée. The thought didn’t make her feel better.

  “Thanks. I appreciate your hospitality. I hope having us here won’t cause you any problems with your...girlfriend.”

  “No worries,” he said. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  Yay. Single. Grace stiffened. Being happy he was available was a crazy reaction, but oh well. She was only human.

  And out of his league.

  She needed a haircut, a good night’s sleep, a job and the ability to converse with a hot guy without losing her cool.

  Not only out of his league, in a different grade. Grace was a kindergartner when dealing with the opposite sex. Bill was working on his master’s thesis.

  “Come on, Liam.” She reached for her son. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  Liam held his arms out to Bill.

  Hurt flashed through Grace. Her chest tightened. She struggled to breathe.

  “What can I say?” Bill’s smile lit up his face and took her breath away. “Kids love me.”

  “Women, too?” The words came out before Grace could stop them. She wanted to cringe, hide, run away. But where was she going to go? She swallowed a sigh.

  Bill’s lopsided grin defined the word charming. “Most women. Except those who think I’m a psychotic killer.”

  He meant her. His lighthearted tone told Grace he wasn’t upset. If anything, he made her suspicions sound...endearing. But she was still embarrassed.

  “I’ll carry him to the guest room.” He lifted Liam up. “Don’t forget Peanut.”

  Liam hugged the elephant and settled comfortably in Bill’s arms, against Bill’s chest. “Peanut like to be carried.”

  “Good,” Bill said. “Because I like to carry.”

  Watching the two was bittersweet for Grace. The last time Damon had carried their son, Liam had been a year old, barely walking. Babbling, not talking.

  Don’t look back.

  Grace was moving west to start over. She couldn’t change the past. Damon was never coming back. She needed to look forward for both her and Liam’s sake.

  She followed Bill down the hallway to a room with a queen-size cherry sleigh bed and matching dresser and nightstand. A patchwork quilt covered the bed, with coordinating shams on the pillows. Framed pictures hung on the wall. The room sure beat a cheap motel with paper-thin walls, or an expensive hotel she couldn’t afford.

  “This is lovely.” But odd considering the house belonged to a single guy. “Did you decorate the room yourself?”

  “My mom helped me with the entire house. She thought my apartment was too much a man cave. I give her full credit for making sure everything coordinated.”

  “Your mother did a good job.”

  Holding Liam with one arm, Bill pulled down the covers. He gently set the little boy on the bed. “There you go, bud.”

  Liam thrust out his lower lip. “Not tired. More cocoa and cookies.”

  “I’ll take you to the bathroom,” Grace said. “Then I bet you and Peanut will be ready for bed.”

  At least she hoped so, because she didn’t think her heavy eyelids would remain open much longer. Her feet ached for rest. Her brain wanted to shut down for the night.

  “Want Bill.” Liam’s tiny fingers wiggled, reaching for the firefighter. “P-nut want Bill, too.”

  Grace opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t. This was the first time Liam had asked for someone else. She tried to ignore the prick of hurt, telling herself this was no big deal.

  Bill knelt next to the bed, giving her son the height advantage. “Listen. I’m going to be in the room next to the bathroom. That’s across the hall. When you wake up, we can have breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes sound good?”

  Liam nodded about a hundred times.

  “We’ll make a snowman if the storm lets up.” Bill stood. “But you and Peanut need to be well rested, okay?”

  Another nod from Liam. This time Peanut joined in.

  Grace mouthed a thank-you.

  Bill stepped away from the bed. “Give me your keys. I’ll get your suitcases out of the truck.”

  She thought for a moment, touched her hand to her face. “Oh, no. I left the keys in the ignition. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “You’ve been through a lot.”

  He had no idea. “Our suitcase is on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Everything else we own is in the back.”

  Compassion filled his eyes, not the usual pity people lavished on a widow.

  She appreciated that.

  Bill glanced toward the window. “Under a tarp or do you have a shell?”

  “Shell.”

  “I hope there aren’t any cracks from the accident.”

  “If there are, I don’t want to know.” She looked at Liam, who was bouncing Peanut o
n the bed as if the mattress was a trampoline. “Not until morning.”

  Bill drew his hand across his mouth as if he were zipping his lips.

  The gesture was kidlike and sweet at the same time. “Thanks.”

  His gaze rested on Liam. “It’s not easy being a single parent.”

  The sincerity of Bill’s voice made Grace wonder if he knew someone who’d lost a spouse. She thought about asking, but didn’t want to pry. “You do what you have to do. I’m not the first wife to have lost her husband. Or Liam his father.”

  “It still sucks.”

  Bill’s words cut through the pleasantries—aka crap—people said to her, trying to make the bad stuff bearable. “Yes, it does. But you’re right about having memories and Liam. That’s made all the difference. And now we have our own Ranger angel looking out for us. Damon definitely had our six tonight.”

  A thoughtful expression formed on Bill’s face. “You’re lucky you walked away from that snowbank without any injuries.”

  “True, but that’s not what I meant.” Grace smiled up at him, a smile straight from her heart, something usually reserved for Liam alone. “I was talking about us finding you.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE SMELL OF freshly brewed coffee enticed Grace to open her heavy eyelids. The scent made her mouth water and her tummy grumble. A cup of java and one of Damon’s banana walnut muffins sounded so—

  Wait a minute.

  Her husband was dead. She was in bed.

  Who made the coffee?

  She blinked, disoriented and confused.

  Light filtered through the window blinds. Not her apartment. Not anyplace she recognized.

  Grace bolted upright.

  Tall dresser, closet door, closed bedroom door.

  Memories of the night before exploded in her mind. Driving in the blizzard. Crashing into the snowbank. Stumbling to Bill Paulson’s front door. She hadn’t been dreaming. Last night had been real.

  Grace stretched her sleep-drenched arms and arched her back, like a drowsy cat waking from a much-needed nap.

  She’d slept through the night. No bad dreams to wake her.

  Amazing, considering she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since Damon’s death, and odd, since she was sleeping in a strange house in a stranger’s guest room. Maybe this move to Astoria hadn’t been the worst idea since skinny jeans.

  Wind shook the window. The storm hadn’t let up.

  “We sure aren’t in Columbus anymore, baby.”

  Grace moved her hand to the right to touch her son. Her fingers hit the mattress. “Liam?”

  The spot next to her was empty.

  No Liam.

  No Peanut.

  Her stomach clenched. Her heartbeat roared in her ears. “Liam.”

  No answer.

  A million and one thoughts raced through her head, none of them good.

  She scrambled out of bed, threw open the door and raced down the hallway. Every muscle bunched.

  The sheriff had vouched for Bill Paulson. She’d been taken with the handsome firefighter herself. But Bill wasn’t used to having kids in the house. What if he’d left cleaning solution where Liam could reach it? What if he’d left a door unlocked and Liam had wandered out of the house? What if? What if? What if?

  Every nerve ending twitched. Her stomach roiled. She thought she might be physically ill.

  It’ll be okay, babe.

  If only she could believe that.

  “You’d better not do that again, Liam.” Bill’s voice, loud and boisterous, sounded from the kitchen. “I’m warning you.”

  Liam wasn’t outside, but the knowledge didn’t loosen the tension in her shoulders. Something was going on.

  Grace accelerated her pace, lengthening her stride. She rounded the corner. Skidded to a stop.

  On the floor between the dining area and breakfast bar, Bill sat crisscross applesauce with Liam and at least thirty dominoes set up in a row.

  “I mean it this time.” Bill tried to sound serious, but his mouth curved upward, a big grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t touch the dominoes!”

  Defiance gleamed in Liam’s gaze. Mischief, too. He raised his arm, made a small fist and pushed over the first domino. The rest cascaded one on top of the other.

  “You did it again!” Bill placed his hand over his heart and tumbled to the floor as if he’d been knocked over, too. “What are we going to do, Peanut? Liam won’t listen.”

  Her son giggled.

  The sheer delight in his voice warmed Grace’s insides. Her pulse slowed. Her heart rate returned to normal. A bolt of guilt flashed through her at being so quick to think the worst of Bill Paulson when she’d woken up without Liam next to her.

  Liam clapped. “Again. Again.”

  “Okay, kid. But only for you.” Bill reset the dominoes, a job that took patience and a steady hand. “One more time.”

  Liam spread his fingers. “Ten more.”

  Grace wondered how many times they’d played this game. Knowing Liam, at least ten, but Bill didn’t seem to mind.

  “Two more,” Bill countered. “I’m getting hungry.”

  “Four more. I help cook.”

  “You strike a hard bargain, little dude.” He stuck out his arm. “But it’s a deal.”

  Liam shook Bill’s hand. “Deal.”

  The guys from Damon’s squad, Liam’s honorary uncles, visited when they could, but over the past two years they’d dropped by less and less. Some attended professional development schools. Some went to Special Forces training. Some joined other military units. Some left the army. Their group of friends had gotten smaller, but Liam had never been this animated with them, people he’d known his entire life. He rarely acted this way with her. Only Peanut. Liam’s one and only friend.

  Though Bill Paulson could probably qualify as her son’s friend now. The guy had the right touch with Liam.

  Jealousy stabbed Grace, an unexpected emotion. One she didn’t like.

  So what if her son had a new friend? Bill was nothing more than a nice guy who’d offered them shelter for the night. Something she would expect from a man who rescued people for a living, but she hadn’t imagined a bachelor being so in tune with a three-year-old.

  Watching Bill and her son play together made her feel older than twenty-six. Sure, she got on the floor, and didn’t mind a big mess with art projects or mud. But she was always so tired, as if she carried a hundred-pound pack all day, struggling to keep herself balanced and not fall over like one of those dominoes.

  Unlike Bill. No tired eyes. No sagging shoulders. Only smiles and an innate strength she felt from the doorway.

  She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Good morning.”

  Liam jumped to his feet and ran toward her. “Mommy.”

  The excitement in his voice warmed Grace’s heart. This was more like it. She scooped him up, eager to have him in her arms. “I woke up, and you weren’t in bed.”

  Liam gave her a wet kiss. “I wake up. Peanut, too. You asleep so I get Bill.”

  “You mean Mr. Paulson.”

  “That’s my dad’s name.” Bill stood. “Liam can call me by my first name.”

  “Okay.” She relented only because they would be leaving today. She cuddled her son close. Sniffed. “You smell like cookies.”

  Liam pointed to his new best friend. “Big dude.”

  Bill’s cheeks reddened. “Liam wanted to wait until you were up to have breakfast, but we were a little hungry.”

  “Hungry men eat cookies.” Liam spoke the words with a growly voice, as if mimicking someone.

  Bill’s entire face turned red. He cleared his throat. “Cookies have flour, eggs and milk in them. Not that different from pancakes.”
r />   “Cookies are healthy.” Liam bent his arm to show off his biceps. “Make me strong. Like Bill.”

  Grace covered her mouth with her hand and bit back laughter. “I can let cookies before breakfast slide this one time.”

  Bill’s grin made him look more like one of Liam’s peers than hers. “I appreciate that.”

  “It’s the least I can do after being able to sleep in. That never happens.” Or hadn’t since Damon’s final deployment. Grace was reminded of what she and Liam had lost in the mountains of Afghanistan, of what other people took for granted, without giving their good fortune a second thought. “I hope Liam didn’t wake you up too early.”

  “I was awake when he knocked on my door. No reason for both of us to be up at the crack of dawn.” Bill studied her with his watchful gaze. “I hope you weren’t worried when he wasn’t in bed.”

  She hugged Liam tight, remembering her fear waking up without him. He was all she had. “I had a moment of panic until I heard you in the kitchen.”

  Liam pushed away from her. “I winning.”

  Grace placed him on the floor. “You always win.”

  “And here I thought I had the age advantage,” Bill joked. “Liam’s quite the domino shark. He’s kicking my bu—er, behind.”

  She appreciated the way Bill watched his language.

  “I shark. Let’s play,” Liam shouted.

  “Duty calls.” Bill set up more dominoes. “Breakfast will have to wait a few more minutes.”

  “You boys play.” Grace knew having a guy to play with was a big deal for her son. She’d let him have his fun. “I’ll fix breakfast.”

  Bill’s gaze met hers. “I don’t mind cooking.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “You’re a guest.”

  “And you’re sweet.” She meant each word. “Consider my cooking breakfast a bonus on top of the postcard I’ll be sending.”

  He glanced at a waiting Liam, then back at her.

  “Okay.” He returned to setting up dominoes. “It’s better this way. The guys at the station aren’t that keen on my cooking.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” He seemed like the kind of man who could do anything, including setting up dominoes while carrying on a conversation. “It’s hard to ruin pancakes.”