He’d been in the parlor tending to the fire when she and the children had retired to their beds. She found herself listening for the sound of his footsteps in the hall. But that sound never came.
What was keeping him up so late? Or was he planning to spend the night in the parlor?
She must have drifted off to sleep at some point, because she suddenly woke, jarred from sleep by a loud noise.
She heard that snapping, cracking sound again, this time much closer than what she’d heard earlier. Before she could register exactly how close it had been, there was a loud crash just outside, closely followed by the sound of a child crying out.
Alex!
She scrambled to her feet and paused only long enough to make sure Chloe was still asleep before she bolted from the room. She stepped into the hall but Hank was already there, rushing into his nephew’s room just ahead of her.
Hank barely made it to the bed before Alex launched himself at his uncle and wrapped his arms tightly around the man’s neck, burying his tear-streaked face in his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Hank said. “You’re safe. It was just a branch breaking off from that tree outside your window.”
The boy only clung tighter and his little frame trembled with emotion.
Janell sat down on the bed next to the pair and Hank met her gaze over the boy’s head. There was a look of helplessness in his eyes that tugged at her every bit as much as Alex’s distress.
She placed a hand lightly on Alex’s back. “You’re thinking of the explosion, aren’t you? About what happened to your parents?”
Alex nodded without moving his face from Hank’s shoulder.
Hank’s expression softened as the light of understanding dawned. “It’s okay for you to be sad that they’re gone now, Alex. You loved them very much and you miss them.”
“But I didn’t get hurt like Chloe did.”
Janell put a hand on his arm. “Alex, you can’t compare your loss to your sister’s. You suffered something awful as well—you lost your parents and your home. It’s okay to be sad about that and to be angry as well.”
The boy pulled back from his uncle slightly. “It is?”
“Absolutely. You just can’t let that be all you feel. You have to look at the good things around you, too.”
Janell could see he was still shaken by the eerie sounds of the ice storm, so she gave him a smile. “I tell you what. I’m not very sleepy right now. I was going to sit up in the parlor and do a bit of mending by firelight. Why don’t I make up a comfy pallet for you on the floor in front of the fireplace, where you can be all toasty warm and keep me company? Would you like that?”
Alex rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and nodded.
“Good. Then just give me a moment to make up your pallet and we’ll be all set.”
Hank stood. “I’ll get a spare blanket. Why don’t the two of you gather up the pillow and bedding from here and take it to the parlor.”
Janell did her best to make Alex’s move from his bedroom as cheery as possible, comparing the pallet to a sleeping bag one would use on a camping trip.
Once Alex was settled in, Hank headed for the back of the house.
True to her word, Janell gathered up her sewing basket and some stockings of Chloe’s she’d noticed needed darning. She started humming softly as she went to work, and in no time at all, Alex was sound asleep.
* * *
Hank approached the sofa and stood looking down at her, wishing he had the right to sit next to her and take her in his arms. “You can set that aside now and try to get some sleep,” he said gruffly. “I’ll stay in here with Alex.”
She flashed him that warm, sweet smile he liked so much. “I’m not sleepy and this needs doing.”
Hank raked a hand through his hair. If she wasn’t going to distance herself, so be it. “In that case, I think I’ll fix us both a cup of hot cocoa.”
She smiled up at him. “That sounds good. And if you want to bring a small piece of the pecan pie left from supper, I wouldn’t turn it away.”
He returned her smile with a grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”
While Hank worked in the kitchen, his mind replayed that moment when Alex had launched himself trustingly into his arms. It had made him feel almost like a dad.
That wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t spent the day with Alex. And that had happened because Janell had prodded him to invite the boy along.
It seemed every good thing to happen to him lately originated from her.
By the time he carried the cocoa and pie into the parlor, Janell was putting away her sewing. Was the light of welcome in her eyes for him or for the treats he carried?
* * *
Janell sipped on her cup of cocoa, enjoying the companionable silence between them while they watched the fire and the sleeping boy in front of it.
Hank was the first to break the silence. “I forget sometimes, because his hurts aren’t as obvious as Chloe’s, that he suffered, too.”
“He’s a brave little boy, but he is just a little boy.”
Hank nodded. “I really enjoyed spending time with him today.”
He said that as if it surprised him. “It’s obvious he enjoyed it, too.”
He made a noncommittal sound but she could tell the thought pleased him. She touched his arm lightly, then dropped her hand. “You’re going to be a very good father to these children.”
“I hope so.” He didn’t sound convinced. “But that won’t make up for what they really need—a mother’s touch.”
“We’re working on that.” If she’d felt a decided lack of enthusiasm for that job lately, she’d just have to get over that. He was right—these kids needed a mother.
Time to change the subject.
“Christmas is just three weeks away. Have you thought about how you’ll celebrate it with them?”
He raised a brow in surprise. “Do you really think they’ll want to celebrate? I mean, their folks haven’t been gone that long, and this time of year is bound to bring back memories of happier times.”
“That’s precisely why you need to celebrate. Perhaps include a few of their traditions, but build new ones as well. Don’t let them wallow in the memories of what was. Let them find joy in what is. Christmas is a time to remember the great gift our God has given to us. And the message of hope and joy.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Of course it won’t be easy. Most things worth doing take effort. But ignoring it will only make things worse.”
“Do you have any suggestions?”
“For starters, you should get them as actively involved in both the planning and the doing as possible. Let them handcraft decorations for the house and ornaments for the tree. Tell them stories of other Christmases spent in this house when you and your sister were children. When it comes time to cut down a tree, let them help pick it out.”
He rubbed his chin. “That all sounds easy enough.” Then he gave her an almost-challenging look. “Since we want to build new memories, perhaps you could share stories of some of your Christmas traditions.”
She nodded. “I’d be happy to.”
“And are your Christmas memories happy ones?”
“Absolutely. My sister and I looked forward to Christmas as soon as Thanksgiving was behind us. Mother loved to decorate the house with evergreens and ribbon. Father brought candy canes and ribbon candy home for us. It was all very festive and exciting.”
She smiled as the memories came flooding back. “Lizzie was always the creative one. She had a flair for needlework, watercolors and music. I was more of a dreamer.”
“Come now. I won’t believe you didn’t participate in the festivities.”
She grinned. “I helped string the popcorn and decora
te the parlor.” She gave a faraway kind of smile. “There was one thing I was better at than Lizzie, though, and that was decorating our baked goods. Sugar cookies, gingerbread men and especially gingerbread houses. In fact, some of my favorite memories are of me and Lizzie making gingerbread houses.”
He couldn’t remember if she usually stayed in town for Christmas or not. “Do you and your sister still do that?”
She shook her head. “No. I stay here for Christmas and Lizzie stays back in Dentonville. Turnabout is my home now.”
“And where is Dentonville?”
“Illinois.”
Her whole bearing belied the casualness of her tone. There was a story here; he was certain of it. And it was more than just the distance separating her from her family. He’d dearly love to hear more about it, but perhaps now was not the right time.
He took a sip of his cocoa, then changed the subject. “I noticed you were no longer limping. Ankle all better?”
She nodded. “I told you it would be all right.”
“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take it easy for a day or two.”
“I promise to give it all the care it requires.”
And he knew that meant she would go on doing just as she pleased.
She stared down at her cup, as if trying to read answers there. “Speaking of families and Christmas, I’ve been thinking that I might invite my sister and her family to come down for a visit for the holidays this year.”
She watched him from the corner of her eye as if looking for his approval, though for the life of him he didn’t know why. “I’m sure it’ll be nice to have time to visit with your family.” Then one reason occurred to him. “And don’t worry about continuing the signing lessons while they’re here. We can get by on our own.”
“No, you don’t understand. I want Lizzie to meet you and the children. I think it would be good for Chloe to spend time with someone who has gone through something similar to what she has.”
Was that why she was inviting her sister to visit? Why wouldn’t she have done it for her own sake? “I agree that Chloe would benefit from knowing your sister, but isn’t that a lot to ask of your sister? Perhaps it would be better if we traveled to her. And it wouldn’t have to be at Christmas—”
“No.”
The vehemence of her response surprised him. Was there some reason she didn’t want him traveling to her hometown? Or maybe she just didn’t want him and the kids intruding on her parents’ hospitality?
She took a breath, then said more calmly, “I mean, I don’t think it would be a good idea to uproot the children right now, not when they’re just settling into their new surroundings and new routine. Much better that Lizzie come here.”
That made sense, but he got the distinct impression there was more to it than that.
“I’ve been corresponding with my sister regularly since you returned to Turnabout with your niece and nephew, and she’s taken a keen interest in Chloe’s situation. I think Lizzie would be quite open to taking a trip down here—in fact, she’s all but hinted as much.”
“Then by all means, invite her to come.” He smiled her way. “I imagine you’ll be happy to have time to visit with her yourself.”
She nodded.
“How long has it been since you last saw her?”
“Four years.”
That surprised him. Was there some reason she’d allowed so much time to pass? Was there some sort of rift between her and her family?
But it wasn’t his place to ask so personal a question.
“You said her family—who all does that include?”
“She has a husband and two children. Elliott is four and Olivia is not quite one.”
Did that mean she’d never seen her niece and barely seen her nephew? For a woman who obviously loved children, so much of this seemed out of character. The more he learned about her relationship with her family, the more curious he became.
For the first time it occurred to him to wonder how a woman of obvious genteel upbringing had ended up in Turnabout. Had she run away from something?
There was another snap and crash of a branch falling in the distance, causing Janell to jump. She quickly glanced Alex’s way, but the boy barely stirred. Shooting him a slightly embarrassed grin, she stood and padded over to adjust Alex’s covers before returning to her seat.
For the first time he noticed she was barefoot. It reminded him of how slender and delicate her foot had felt when he’d held it earlier.
He cleared his throat, deciding it was best not to linger on such thoughts. “It’s late. Why don’t you go back to Chloe’s room and try to get some sleep? I’ll stay in here in case Alex wakes again.”
She shook her head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit up awhile longer. I don’t think I could sleep right now and I don’t relish the idea of lying there staring at the ceiling.”
“I don’t mind.” Not one bit.
She sat back down, her eyes still on the slumbering child. “I think Alex is really starting to settle in here. He’s made friends at school and joined the choir.” She turned to him, her eyes alight with approval. “And it’s obvious he’s formed a connection with you. You should be really proud of the difference you’re making in these children’s lives.”
“Perhaps I would be, if I didn’t know that I owe all of that to you. I could never have accomplished so much without you.” Did she have any idea how deeply he meant that?
But she brushed aside his praise. “Nonsense. It might have taken you a little longer, but you would have gotten there.” Then she placed her hand on his. “You truly care for these children and that’s what matters. Some part of them responds to that.”
“They’re family,” he said simply. At least that was all it had been at first—a nebulous connection to his sister. But now these kids were his and he felt fiercely protective of them.
But the feel of her hand on his—warm, soft, gentle—was eliciting an entirely different kind of emotion. Yes, he felt possessive and protective and ready to slay dragons for her. But in an entirely different way. The fact that she left her hand there, didn’t withdraw as she had in the past, only strengthened those feelings.
He had a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to kiss her. What would she do? Push him away? Accept his overture? Kiss him back?
With an effort he resisted the temptation and leaned back. But he was careful to keep his hand touching hers. “So tell me a little more about your childhood Christmases.”
“Only if you share some of your stories as well.”
“It’s a deal.”
Chapter Nineteen
Janell woke with a start. For a moment she wasn’t certain where she was. Then she looked around at the shadowy room and memories of the night came flooding back. She was half sitting, half reclining on the sofa in Hank’s parlor. Sometime during the night she must have dozed off.
Someone—Hank, of course—had draped a blanket around her. She glanced toward the window and saw a faint hint of gray in the blackness. It would be daybreak soon.
Alex still slept on his makeshift bed, but Hank was nowhere to be seen. Had he gone to bed after she fell asleep?
Then she caught the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and quickly tossed off the blanket. She still wasn’t wearing her shoes, but they were in Chloe’s room and she didn’t want to wake her up. Ah well, she had her stockings on and that would do for now.
Janell padded into the kitchen and found Hank sipping on a cup of coffee.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said with a smile. “There’s more coffee, if you’d like some.”
With a nod, she fetched a cup and filled it with the steaming liquid.
“Is Alex still sleeping?” he asked.
She nodded. “Chloe, too, as far as I can tell.”<
br />
He leaned back against the counter. There was something different about him this morning—a new confidence, an air of happiness she hadn’t noticed before.
Could it be from his newfound relationship with Alex?
“I took a look around outside a little while ago,” he said. “Even in the dark I could tell there are a number of large limbs down. Frank Meecham was outside and told me the church has a hole in the roof due to some fallen limbs. There likely won’t be a service today.”
She nodded. “It’s probably best to keep Alex and Chloe inside today anyway.” She studied him a moment. “I assume you’re going to want to head out and help clean up some of this mess the ice created.”
He grinned. “You assume right.”
“Then I’ll stay with the kids.”
He set his cup in the sink, then turned back around. “I was thinking last night, after we took care of Alex, that we certainly seem to make a good team.”
She nodded. “I suppose we do at that.”
He crossed the room, took the coffee cup from her and set it on the table, then took both her hands in his. “I was also wondering if you’d reconsider my proposal.”
The warm cozy mood of a moment ago vanished in an instant. The desire to say yes was so strong that she actually ached. But how could she? It wasn’t just that she feared disappointing him the way she had other important people in her life. She also feared telling him that she was a divorcée and that she’d been living a lie all these years. Seeing the affection in his eyes change to contempt was more than she would be able to bear.
Almost of their own accord, her fingers touched the cameo at her throat and she again heard Mrs. Collins’s words about false pride.
Then she dropped her hand and lifted her chin. “My feelings on the matter have not changed,” she said coolly. “My role is to find you a wife, not to become one.”
Hank’s jaw tightened and everything about him seemed to harden. He gave a short nod. Then he grabbed his coat from the peg by the door. “I’m going to help clear the fallen limbs from the church. There are probably others in town who need help as well. I assume I can still count on you to stay with the children while I’m gone.”
The Holiday Courtship Page 16