Mistletoe Mommy

by Tanya Michaels

  “Right. You’re always at the hospital,” his daughter agreed. She flounced off to join her brother by Brenna’s car, not giving him much chance to respond.

  He shot an embarrassed look at Brenna. Unaware of his past missteps with his daughter and the latitude he was trying to give her now, Brenna must think Eliza was a demon child and that he was the world’s most ineffectual parent. The redhead wasn’t looking at him, however.

  Instead, she busied herself with showing Morgan how “Lady Evelyn” liked to be petted. Not for a minute did he believe Brenna had missed the tense exchange, but he was grateful she was pretending not to notice.

  “I have my cell phone in the SUV,” he told her. “We can call someone for you. Or we can give you a ride, if that will get you to the cat faster.”

  Brenna set down the dog but held on to the leash, not that the pooch seemed motivated to escape Morgan’s adoration. “We can try your phone, but reception in this particular spot is lousy. I would have called someone by now if I could get a signal. And I really do need to reach Patch.”

  “We’re happy to take you,” he reiterated.

  She bit her lip. “Well, I wouldn’t normally…”

  Come to think of it, was he setting a terrible example picking up a stranger? He’d make sure the kids understood later that this was a rare exception. In her khaki shorts and navy-striped tank top, both of which revealed long, well-toned limbs, he couldn’t imagine where Brenna would conceal any weapons. Since he outweighed her by probably forty or fifty pounds, he was confident he could take her physically—a random thought that somehow got all turned around in his mind and heightened his awareness of the golden expanse of dewy skin.

  Luckily Brenna, who was looking around at his kids, was oblivious.

  She turned to him with the beginnings of a smile. “You don’t exactly seem like an escaped convict.”

  He pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket and handed her his Tennessee driver’s license. “I’m an upstanding citizen, I swear. The only thing scary about me is my association with—” he affected a shudder “—teenagers. They’re not for the faint of heart.”

  She laughed, a warm, husky sound. Pleasure tightened inside him, and he reminded himself that a responsible single father didn’t get lust-stricken on the side of a dusty road over a total stranger with his three kids standing right there. His sole purpose in Mistletoe was to focus on rebuilding his relationships with his children. He had only a few weeks to make up for the past few years. There was no room for distractions.

  Brenna pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it back with his license. “I once helped take care of a ball python, so I should be able to brave teenagers.”

  “It’s settled, then,” Adam said. “We’ll take you to give Patch his injection and to figure out what to do about your car once the medical crisis has passed.”

  She hesitated only a heartbeat before nodding. “Let me grab Lady E’s bag out of my car and make sure the doors are unlocked. With any luck, some enterprising thief will figure out a way to get it running and steal it.”

  BRENNA WAS ACCUSTOMED to odd “herds.” She’d once worked for a family who owned a domesticated pig, two hermit crabs and a ferret. And she was no stranger to unusual human clans, having been raised by a man with no biological ties to her and a woman who would have been well within her right to resent the heck out of her presence. So despite Dr. Adam Varner’s alternately mortified and apologetic glances during their drive into Mistletoe town proper, she was mostly undaunted by his children’s antics.

  The littlest Varner, with her mop of unruly honey-gold curls and light eyes, looked the least like her father and was also the least inhibited. Brenna would have expected such a small child to be shy, but Morgan chattered constantly. She was the one who volunteered that they were on “vay-cay-tion,” pronouncing the word with emphatic concentration, “because Mama and Daddy Dan wanted alone time to kiss. Last week I saw Geoff kissing his girlfriend on our couch!”

  “Morgan!” Her brother’s voice cracked on the second syllable. He leaned forward, poking his head between the front seats. “Please excuse my sister. She’s too young to understand adult matters.”

  Brenna managed to keep a straight face as she nodded, but his sister Eliza didn’t bother hiding her derisive snort.

  “Adult?” She chortled. “You just turned fifteen. You can’t even get a driver’s license until your next birthday.”

  “I have my learner’s permit,” he said stiffly, “and I’m a lot more—”

  “Kids,” Adam interjected warningly, “can’t we—”

  “—grown up than you,” Geoff finished. “You cry half the time for no reason at all. Even Morgan doesn’t—”

  “That’s enough,” Adam said, this time hitting the palm of his hand on the steering wheel for emphasis. “I don’t want to hear another word for the rest of the ride. Does everyone understand?”

  Eliza, who was either fearless or harbored a death wish, muttered, “Are we allowed to answer that?”

  Despite herself, Brenna was fascinated by the ill-mannered girl. Brenna herself had possessed more reason for anger than most adolescents, yet she’d remained unnaturally well behaved. It had taken her years to shake the terror that her stepfather and his new wife—who was actually his old wife, long story—might decide they didn’t want her.

  After all, Brenna’s own mother hadn’t kept her, not only leaving her husband, Fred Pierce, but leaving Brenna behind in Mistletoe. Brenna hadn’t known whether to feel betrayed or relieved.

  “Sorry about all this,” Adam said to Brenna.

  “No worries. You’re doing me the favor,” she reminded him.

  He jerked his head back, indicating the three now-quiet passengers behind them. “I would say they fight like cats and dogs, but cats and dogs probably get along better.”

  Her lips twitched as she thought of her own two pets, a wickedly smart border-collie mix and a cat who thought she was a dog. They were the best of friends.

  “Their mother, Sara, assures me sibling rivalry is natural, so I’ll take her word for it. I’m an only child myself,” Adam told her, no trace of conflict in his voice when he mentioned the ex who’d remarried. “You have any brothers or sisters?”

  “A younger stepbrother, but we never fought.” She said it automatically, regretting that she’d added it. It would only make Adam feel more conscious of his own brood, which was a lousy way to repay him for taking the time to help her.

  To fill the embarrassed silence, she gave directions and commentary on the town. “Up here at the corner, we’ll turn left to get to Patch’s house. If you make a right on that same road, you can follow the signs to Kerrigan Farms. It’s a great place. They have a Fourth of July barbecue and blueberry picking all year round, as well as hayrides. We’re also just a couple of blocks from the Dixieland Diner. They have phenomenal food.”

  “Food,” Geoff moaned, his apparent starvation prompting him to break the not-a-word edict.

  Brenna impulsively turned to Adam. “After I take care of Patch and drop Lady E at home, would you let me buy you an early dinner?” He was going out of his way to help her, and being indebted to anyone else left her squirmy and anxious. “Please? It’s the least I can do for you guys.”

  Geoff let out a whoop of delight, which his father quickly overruled.

  “I can’t let you pay for the four of us,” Adam objected. “Especially since one of us, who shall remain nameless, eats like a horse.”

  “But…” She trailed off as common sense reasserted itself. Aside from her almost pathological need to repay him, it was probably for the best if they didn’t have dinner together.

  She had a ton of phone messages to catch up on this evening and invoices to type into her computer. This was supposed to be the summer when she worked as many long hours as humanly possible so that she was solvent by fall, when schools were back in session and her customers’ travel plans slowed down. Buying dinner for la
rge families she didn’t know was not in her meager budget.

  “Wait,” she said, suddenly realizing where they were, “that’s Martine Street! We’re supposed to hook a left here.”

  He immediately obliged.

  “Thanks. Sorry about the short notice.” She was already fishing through the lockbox she’d retrieved from her car for the key to the client’s house. “Patch lives in the big blue two-story at the bottom of the hill. I promise not to take too long.” Next stop, Lady Evelyn’s house. The Yorkie’s owners would be back from Florida tonight. They hadn’t wanted the pampered dog to miss her standing appointment at the groomer, so Brenna had taken her.

  Adam parked the SUV at the curb. “Does your offer of dinner with us hold even if I don’t let you pay? We’d love the chance to hear more about the town, wouldn’t we, kids?”

  “Yes!” Geoff agreed vehemently.

  Brenna got the impression that Adam’s son would agree to anything that led to getting fed. She hesitated, thinking of everything she needed to get done at her home office. Then again, how could she refuse when dinner had been her idea in the first place?

  “I’ll let you pick up the tip,” Adam said, adding under his voice, “I’m not sure I’m ready to be left alone with these three again. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  She laughed. “All right,” she agreed as she climbed out of the car.

  Even though he’d had a joking tone, she believed him when he said he wasn’t ready to be alone with the kids. Though he was an intelligent, funny man—and a surgeon, for pity’s sake, which indicated a high level of capability—he did seem a bit awkward with his own children. Parenting just didn’t come naturally to some.

  Brenna knew that better than anyone.

  Chapter Three

  Bracing himself, Adam prepared to lay down the law if the kids resumed their bickering now that Brenna had disappeared into the blue house. But Morgan seemed content telling Lady Evelyn how cute she was, and Eliza had her eyes closed and gave every appearance of napping. Geoff, in contrast, was practically vibrating with excitement.

  “Way to go, Dad! She’s a babe.”

  Adam choked. “Geoffrey, that’s not an appropriate way for you to discuss Ms. Pierce.”

  “Oh, but—” his son looked more bemused than chastised “—didn’t you see her?”

  What was more disturbing? That the kid who’d thought girls were gross a few years ago was now scoping out older women, or that Adam wholeheartedly agreed with the fifteen-year-old’s assessment?

  “I saw her. And she is attractive,” he admitted in a vast understatement. “You need to show more respect, though.”

  “Sorry,” Geoff mumbled. “I just wanted to be, you know, supportive. Do you ever date?”

  Rarely. His job occupied most of his waking hours, and more than once he’d sat up in bed realizing he’d been going through a case or procedure in his sleep.

  “Are we gonna have two mommies like we have two daddies?” Morgan asked.

  “What?” Adam spun in his seat so that he could better face his children. “No, pumpkin. Of course not. I only met Ms. Pierce a few minutes ago.”

  “But Geoff said you might date. Mama and Daddy Dan used to date and now they’re married.” She concluded her observation with a nod, agreeing with her own logic.

  “That’s true, but—”

  “If we get more parents, do we get more presents?” Morgan wanted to know.

  She was turning five at the end of next week, so birthday presents were uppermost in her mind. Sara and Dan had hosted an early party for her, not wanting her big day to be eclipsed by their recent mid-June wedding. Sara had told Adam it was up to him to figure out a way to celebrate the actual day on vacation. She wouldn’t even advise him what gift to get, as she had for most previous birthdays and Christmases.

  “It should be from you,” she’d insisted gently.

  “How about just a hint?” he’d wheedled. She’d laughed but hadn’t answered. Some of Morgan’s interests were obvious, of course. She loved pink and she loved animals, but he had no idea what toys she already owned, or if certain brands of adorable puppy figurines were preferable to others.

  Before Adam could repeat that no one was getting additional parents anytime soon, Eliza straightened, opening her eyes just enough to glare at him. Naturally.

  “Dad is not here to date,” she informed her siblings. “Mom promised this trip would be all about him spending time with us. Right?” She hurled the one-word question at Adam like a shot put.

  Underneath the hostility was so much vulnerability that Adam wanted to scramble over the seat and hug her.

  As if she’d let you. This was one prickly kid. He couldn’t help wondering if Sara had shielded him from this, sighing and taking care of the preteen’s attitude, instead of calling to yell at him for the monster he’d created. Had she talked to the kids before he came over last Thanksgiving, admonishing them to be on their best behavior? Or had Eliza simply bottled all this up, saving it for the right target? Not having any brothers or sisters himself, he couldn’t determine whether being the middle child was truly the most difficult family position, but it seemed accurate in Eliza’s case.

  Morgan had been so young when he and Sara split up that she didn’t clearly remember a time they’d been married. Geoff had been old enough to understand how critical Adam’s job was, that sometimes it really was a matter of life or death, and he’d been coming into more independent years, so he hadn’t been as bothered by Adam’s absences. At least, that was the mature stance he projected; Adam had let himself buy into it because it was comforting. But Eliza…She’d fallen somewhere in between, and the divorce had wounded her badly.

  “This trip is definitely about you kids,” he vowed. “I’ve never taken this much time off work before, and—”

  “We’re so sorry to have messed up your schedule,” she snapped.

  He’d said what he had to make her feel important, not to complain about being inconvenienced. What would Sara do? He couldn’t imagine his ex-wife allowing Eliza to be a brat. Then again, Sara had never done anything to earn such legitimate enmity. Was Adam reaping what he deserved? Regardless, this wasn’t the tone he wanted to set for the rest of their stay in Mistletoe, nor was it the behavioral example he wanted to set for Morgan.

  “Eliza, I have to ask you to watch your tone,” he said. Her eyebrows shot up, her dark eyes firing sparks at him, but he pressed bravely forward. “I understand you’re angry—”

  “You don’t understand me! You don’t even know me!”

  “I’m trying to,” he said firmly.

  She met his gaze, but said nothing further. Finally she looked out the window. Was it his overly hopeful imagination, or had a tiny bit of tension drained from her slim body? At least she seemed to be thinking about what he’d said, instead of firing back a rejoinder about how they were just fine without him. Small steps.

  After all, no one walked into an operating room their first day of med school and performed a cardiopulmonary bypass. There were lessons that had to be learned, techniques that had to be perfected. He didn’t delude himself that he would ever be a perfect father, but surely, with practice, he could do better than this. Half the time she gave the hostile impression that she would take out a contract hit on him if only her allowance were high enough.

  Figuring he’d done what he could to pacify one daughter for the moment, he turned to the other. Morgan had watched the exchange with increasingly wide eyes.

  He reached between the seats, awkwardly patting her on the knee. “You okay, pumpkin?”

  “Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just hungry.”

  “We’ll eat right after we take the dog home,” Adam promised.

  Geoff beamed at him. “I got so wigged-out the first time I asked Gina for a date that I thought I was gonna blow chow. Without even trying, you got a girl to invite you to dinner and she offered to pay. Awesome.”

  Adam pinched the bridge of his nos
e. Well, at least one of my kids thinks I’m doing something right.

  AS ADAM NAVIGATED the crowded parking lot outside the Dixieland Diner, Brenna dialed Quinn Keller’s number. The two women had been casual acquaintances for years, but recently they’d become closer friends. Quinn lived in a duplex, two adjoining homes that shared a front and backyard. The other half belonged to Dylan Echols, who’d surprised his widowed mother with a maltipoo puppy on Mother’s Day. But he’d been thoughtful enough to first work with Brenna for a few weeks to get the dog housebroken and trained to obey basic commands. Quinn, a teacher at White-berry Elementary, had watched the pup’s progress from her front porch and even helped with a few lessons.

  As the two women got to know each other, they’d discussed Quinn working part-time for Brenna once business was more established. Brenna wanted to grow her customer base for financial reasons and job security, but even with the number of clients she already had, she was hard-pressed to handle the volume of summer and holiday visits—the same times of the year that Quinn had off from teaching—by herself. If Quinn would answer her phone now, she could even ride with Brenna on a few jobs tonight as preliminary training.

  Unfortunately Brenna only reached a mechanical voice telling her to leave a message. She knew Adam would take her home if she asked but she’d already imposed and didn’t want to take the Varners farther out of their way after their long day on the road. So call Fred or Josh. No biggie. It shouldn’t be a “biggie.” After all, she’d been part of their family for nearly twenty years.

  But she’d been conditioned for the formative first thirteen years of her life not to get too attached, that she didn’t truly belong anywhere.

  Would she have overcome that neurosis if Fred, her stepfather, hadn’t remarried Josh’s mother, Maggie? That woman had been the true love of Fred Pierce’s life, but in their first marriage they’d grown apart over time and divorced. He’d hastily rebounded with Brenna’s mother, only to have her slink off in the middle of the night for parts unknown. Though Brenna had never asked, she’d often wondered if his emotional response to being abandoned had mirrored hers—equal parts betrayal and relief.