Dottie was a giver and her entire life had been a testament to her generosity.
Her generosity to a niece-in-DNA-only, however, bordered on insanity.
“What were you thinking, Dottie?” He pushed open his front door and flicked on the hall light. It was only three in the afternoon but sunset wasn’t far off. Nightfall came early to Whidbey in the winter months.
He walked into the kitchen and checked his phone—no messages. He usually relied on his cell to keep in touch with his friends and family, but sometimes they called his house.
The lack of messages and the empty house was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the farmhouse.
Warmth that had everything to do with Serena.
Jonas looked in his pantry, then his refrigerator. Nothing but leftover pizza from two nights ago, a box of cereal, a pouch of coffee.
Pathetic.
He’d been back a couple of weeks and still hadn’t resumed his regular routine.
From what he saw in his short time there, the farmhouse was filled with Serena’s touches. He wanted to hate what she’d done, find fault with her destruction of what had been the heart of his childhood.
He couldn’t. She’d rubbed luster back into the wood trim, restoring it to the original cherry finish. All the rugs had been ripped up and the floors finished to a soft honey hue. Wherever she could, she’d breathed life back into the aging timber. Where she couldn’t, instead of replacing the wood like the kitchen cabinets, she’d painted them.
Somehow Serena had made the farmhouse a home for her and Pepé, and still maintained the simple beauty of the place.
He cast an assessing glance around his place. He’d bought it as an investment, assuming he’d rent it out once he moved into the farmhouse. As a result he hadn’t done much in the way of filling the rooms with furniture or decorating them. It looked plain when it should look like a palace after the conditions he’d endured on deployment.
It’s not the house, or the furniture.
He sank into his leather couch and put his feet on the battered coffee table he’d built years ago. It was in need of refinishing.
No, it wasn’t the house. It was the emptiness, the lack of laughter. There wasn’t a little boy running around with his dog. And there wasn’t a beautiful brunette smiling at him from the kitchen.
* * *
“PEPÉ, THERE’S SOMEONE I want you to meet.”
He looked up from his plastic building blocks.
“Who, Mama?”
Serena smiled at Pepé. She loved that he still sometimes called her “Mama” when he was in playing zone; it had been the first word he’d spoken.
“Come out to the barn with me.”
They made their way to the small structure and she grinned, knowing how fun Pepé’s afternoon was about to get. She was also grateful for the distraction from Jonas Scott’s anger that radiated off him when he’d left. As she replayed their conversation, there wasn’t anything she could have done—his emotions with the house were his.
Yet she’d wanted to reach out to him, to soothe him.
She watched Pepé as his eyes searched around the small barn before his gaze lit upon the two fuzzy, long-necked animals that stood inside the small paddock.
“You got the alpacas! Yes!” He ran toward them, and the shy creatures backed away from the wooden railings.
Ronald barked, his tail wagging, as he trotted next to Pepé.
Serena caught up with him at the fence line. “Like this, mi hijo.” She held out her hands and cooed to the frightened alpacas.
“Are they boys or girls, Mom?”
“Two girls. Sisters.” The alpacas approached them and leaned their cute faces toward Serena and Pepé, their huge eyes blinking.
Pepé held out his hands and the caramel-colored one spit on it.
“Ewww, Mom!”
Serena laughed. “They’re checking you out. It’ll take some time, but they’ll learn to trust us.” As she heard her own words, she realized maybe that was all it would take with Jonas. Time to let him learn to trust her, to understand that she hadn’t received the farmhouse from Dottie for any reason other than Dottie’s whim.
“What are their names, Mom?”
“They don’t really have any yet. I thought I’d let you pick the names, mi hijo.”
“This one is Cami.” He pronounced it like a wizard casting a spell.
“Why that name?”
“Because her fur looks like Marine camouflage uniforms. You know, like my G.I. Joe.”
Of course. Pepé might not even be making the connection with his dad’s uniform, but his heart was.
“What about the white one?”
Pepé looked at the second alpaca, who’d come up and was allowing Serena to stroke her side.
“Snowball!”
They both laughed. “They’re not like pets, not like Ronald, but they’re part of our family now. Their coats will grow out and then I’ll have someone give them a good haircut. Their fiber will be turned into yarn.”
“Can you knit me a pair of socks from their yarn?”
“You bet. And a sweater to match.” She hoped she’d be able to keep her promise. Owning farm animals was a big leap of faith for her, one more step toward making Whidbey their forever home.
CHAPTER NINE
Whidbey Island
First week of December
“WINNIE, YOUR DECORATIONS are the absolute best!”
Serena clinked her champagne glass against Winnie Ford’s and took a sip of the dry Washington State sparkling wine.
Winnie was one of Serena’s closest confidantes. Last winter, when Serena had stopped in the shop for some heavier yarn than she was used to, she and Winnie had immediately struck up a rapport that wasn’t uncommon with knitters and crocheters.
Pepé’s school schedule and Serena’s reluctance to get a babysitter so soon after moving to a new place had prevented her from joining the many knitting classes and groups offered at Winnie’s shop. But they’d managed to form a bond—especially once they’d ascertained that they shared a bond no two women would ever wish for. They were both military widows.
Winnie’s first husband had died in a Navy plane crash several years ago. After that, Winnie had decided to open a yarn shop, which evolved into Whidbey’s fiber cooperative, a venture that allowed small-farm owners to participate in fiber production.
Serena had met Winnie that day she’d wandered into Winnie’s yarn shop in Coupeville, a small seaside town in the center of Whidbey Island. They’d connected over skeins of alpaca lace yarn, leading to Serena’s decision to try raising alpacas at Dottie’s family farm. Winnie had told Serena how she’d fallen in love with Max Ford, her second husband.
“I’m so glad you came this year. Last year you were still settling in. And now look at you—a new house and a new venture. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re going to be an official part of the fiber cooperative.”
“Me, too. I finally took my friend Emily up on her offer to watch Pepé, and now I’m thinking I should do this more often. I feel like a real adult, not just a mom!”
She needed a night out, and when Winnie had invited her to the Ford family holiday party she knew it was another sign—time to start a social life for herself. She was Pepé’s mother and that still came first, but her crazy attraction to Jonas had underscored her need to get out more. If she was around more available men, one guy wouldn’t be as likely to turn her head as Jonas had.
“Have you dated since your husband died?” Winnie asked.
Winnie’s hand felt warm on her forearm and it didn’t occur to Serena to lie. “No. I haven’t given it a thought. But lately I’ve been thinking I should go out a little more.”
Winnie smiled. “I understand. I waited an
awfully long time myself.”
Her gaze drifted to where a tall, handsome man stood with two daughters. “My first foray into a relationship ended up in marriage, as you know.”
At Serena’s stunned silence, Winnie laughed.
“Don’t worry, I’m not suggesting you do the same. Can I give you a piece of advice?”
Serena nodded.
“Relax. There isn’t a time limit on grief, or when you’ll be ready to be with someone again. But if someone shows up and you find yourself interested? Don’t hold back. No guilt.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Serena watched as Winnie stared at her husband, Max, obviously in love.
“Do you really think I’ll be able to handle the alpacas when I’m working full-time?”
“Of course you will. And if you can’t, Marcy said she’d take them back.”
Serena stifled her doubts. It was going to work; it had to. Pepé had already fallen in love with the two alpacas, sisters from Marcy’s herd. Marcy was a fiber friend of Winnie’s.
Serena wondered if Jonas had noticed the fresh lumber piled outside the old barn. If he did, he hadn’t mentioned it, and besides, why should she care? But his eyes... Those eyes could convince her to do a lot more than she’d thought about doing with a man in a long while....
“Dottie would be surprised that I’ve refurbished the barn, but I’m excited to take the house and land back to what it was originally. I’m not a farmer by any stretch, but as you know, fiber’s in my blood.”
Winnie laughed. “Judging by how much yarn you’ve collected for your stash since you’ve moved here, yes, it’s in your blood.”
At what must have been Serena’s guilty expression, Winnie giggled and put a comforting hand on Serena’s shoulder. “You’re not the only one who’s hoarding yarn, Serena—how do you think I keep the shop in the black?”
Serena laughed. “Just don’t expect me to spin the alpaca fiber. I like my yarn already carded, washed and spun.” Serena was content to own and keep two alpacas, but once she resumed her law practice, she’d have little time for anything but the basic knitting that she enjoyed.
“I’ll make you catch the spinning bug yet.” Winnie winked.
She had all types of fiber classes at her shop, from basic knit and crochet, to how to take freshly shorn wool from the sheep to the skein. This included cleaning, or carding, the fiber before spinning it into unique, high-quality yarn.
“No, I don’t think so. Keep your shelves stacked at the store for me.”
“No problem.”
“I’m grateful for your support, Winnie. It’s important to me to make the farmhouse Pepé’s and my home, and bringing it back to the way it was when our ancestors built it. It would’ve been too much for me to have the alpacas if I had to be responsible for the shearing and all.”
“Speaking of the farmhouse, have you heard any more grumbling from the Scotts?” Winnie had been a supportive friend and confidante in the aftermath of Dottie’s death and Serena’s inheritance.
“No, no grumbles, no nothing, until the youngest got back from deployment a couple weeks ago.” Serena sipped her drink.
“Do you mean Jonas?”
Serena nodded, hoping the heat she felt on her cheeks wasn’t too obvious.
“He really had his heart set on getting the house. Apparently Dottie promised it to him. Which makes me feel a bit like a jerk, since Pepé and I are so happy there.”
“Don’t even go there, Serena. Dottie was her own person. The whole town knew her and adored her, but it doesn’t mean she didn’t have her own quirky way of doing things. For some reason she changed her mind and willed it to you. Jonas isn’t hurting financially, right? He has the means to build a second home if he wants.”
Serena looked at Winnie’s huge Christmas tree. It was everything a tree should represent—the joy of the holiday, the warmth of a home and the love of a family.
Had she stolen that from Jonas when she’d accepted the house from Dottie?
“I’m not going to be a hypocrite and say that I’m sorry about any of it. The minute Dottie had us over for dinner, I knew I’d come home. Dottie became part of our family. I never expected her to give me the house, of course.”
Serena had planned to buy a home once she and Pepé had found their favorite part of the island. That decision was, needless to say, taken out of her hands.
“I don’t want to hear one hint that you’re feeling badly for Jonas, Serena. He’s a big boy and he’ll get over it. You’ve had a lot on your plate these past couple of years—you and Pepé deserve every drop of happiness you can get. Your farmhouse is part of that.”
Winnie and Max knew the Scotts from when Jonas’s older brother did extensive landscaping on their house and became friends with Max and Winnie.
When Serena had first confided in Winnie, she’d encouraged Serena to accept the house without reservation. She’d also given Serena the gift of insight into Jonas’s background—from someone who knew much more about him.
Jonas had been a bit of a wild child, until he found his calling in medicine and the Navy. Dottie’s community reputation had been on the line with him several times while he was in high school, but she didn’t give up on him, ever.
She also didn’t enable him. Dottie had loved Jonas when he needed it most and he’d grown into the successful military professional he was today.
Who loved Jonas like that now that Dottie was gone?
“He came by the house,” Serena said. Winnie’s eyes widened. “When?”
“Last week. He was very nice. Even charming. Yet he made it clear that he hasn’t given up on getting me to sell.”
“Typical Jonas. What a jackass thing to do!” Winnie shook her head. “He put Dottie through the wringer with his last girlfriend. It looked like they were going to get married, and the girl had all these dreams of making Dottie’s place into a bed-and-breakfast. Can you imagine? She told Dottie all about her plans, acted like it was a fait accompli that Jonas would get the place and, of course, that she’d be with him when he did.”
“What happened then?”
“Dottie handled it in her usual straightforward manner and told Jonas she never wanted to see her family home turned into a hotel.”
“No, I mean what happened with his girlfriend?”
Winnie waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Just like the others, she broke up with him once she realized his first love is the Navy. She didn’t want to wait for him to settle down.”
“Is she still here?”
“Yes, she’s over there.” Winnie nodded toward the fireplace, which was the center of the Ford home. Max stood with their infant daughter in his arms while their two older girls, Winnie’s from her first marriage, stood next to him.
All four were mesmerized by a slim blonde who spoke animatedly, her arms floating about her as she emphasized her words.
“Joy Alexander.”
“She’s beautiful.” And everything Serena physically wasn’t.
Why did she care?
“Yes, but they weren’t good as a couple—it was more of a convenience hookup. She’d been alone a long while, as had he. It was a partnership of the lonely. They just didn’t have that spark, you know what I mean?”
“Hmm.” Serena didn’t want to tell Winnie that she understood all too well what she meant. Seeing Jonas always seemed to send sparks down her spine.
She’d worked with a lot of men in her profession; she wasn’t swayed by just any man, no matter how attractive. Jonas Scott was different.
* * *
JONAS SAW HER the minute she walked through Max and Winnie’s front door. The dark fall of her hair reflected the twinkling lights from the Fords’ Christmas tree and made her look more sensuous, more beautiful, than she’d been at her h
ouse last week. If that was even possible.
He wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t a stranger to sudden sexual attraction, infatuation. Add in a long spell without a woman and of course a beauty like Serena would make his need all the more urgent.
It didn’t mean any more than that; his body was reacting to a gorgeous woman. He was still alive.
Unlike the kids he’d been unable to save.
He swallowed back the bile spewed by the unwanted memory. He wasn’t a pediatric specialist; it wasn’t his fault those two siblings had died. They’d been suffering from malnutrition on top of their war wounds—it was unlikely they had the strength to heal from the mortar injuries even if they’d made it to the trauma unit sooner.
Still, he couldn’t get their soft brown eyes, filled with pain and fear, out of his mind. Or how sweetly they’d accepted his ministrations, the needles, the meds, without a single whimper.
They’d believed the Americans could save them.
And he hadn’t.
Jonas took a swig of his beer. This was his first Christmas celebration since he’d come home and no one needed his morose regret to smother the twinkling holiday spirit.
“You still moping that you didn’t get your farmhouse, Jonas?” Max had waited until Joy walked off before he got to the point, which reminded Jonas why he liked Max as much as he did.
Max always got to the point of any issue. It was one of the reasons Jonas respected him so much.
“It’s not the house, Max.” Bitterness stoked his guilt. He’d give up his quest for the farmhouse to have those kids back, alive. In a nanosecond.
“Maybe this was all part of Dottie’s plan, to get you to learn to share.” Max Ford smiled at him, his baby daughter on his hip.
Jonas didn’t want to tell Max why he was so upset with himself. Not tonight, at a Christmas party.
“You’ve gone soft, Max. When I first met you ten years ago, you were as tough as nails. Now look at you—you’re married to a woman who has you wrapped around her finger and your baby on your hip.”
They both guffawed and Jonas gave Max a playful slap on his shoulder.
“It’s been the most humbling, and the best, experience of my life, Jonas. I highly recommend it.”
Harlequin Superromance November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Christmas at the CoveNavy ChristmasUntil She Met Daniel Page 36