Mistletoe Cottage

by Debbie Mason

  She took a couple hesitant steps toward him. “Thatta girl,” he said, and leaned over to wrap the jacket around her tiny, delicate frame. “It’s pretty long. Is it okay if I pick you up so you don’t trip?” She nodded, and he lifted her into his arms. “You know what? You’re as brave as any firefighter I know, so you should probably wear this.” He put his helmet on her head, grinning when she disappeared beneath it. He tipped it up. “There you are.”

  She rewarded him with a smile that lit up her face and wrapped around his heart, squeezing tight.

  “Mia DiRossi, you’re going to be a heartbreaker just like your mother.”

  Chapter Two

  Sophie DiRossi stood alone in the shadow of the beech tree with her arms wrapped around her waist, staring at the manor’s smoke-filled entrance, willing Mia to appear. It felt like she’d been standing here for an eternity. She’d left Harmony Harbor because of her daughter, and she’d come back for the same reason. If she’d had a crystal ball, she would have kept driving. Only she’d run out of gas, and she didn’t have any money or anywhere else to go. It’s how she’d ended up at Greystone. The last place she wanted to be.

  A large, dark form took shape in the smoke and drew her attention. She squinted, wondering if it was her imagination. Then Liam stepped out of the haze with her daughter in his arms, and a cheer went up from the crowd. Sophie’s legs buckled, relief weakening the tight reins that had held her emotions in check the entire arduous drive from California to Massachusetts’s North Shore.

  All the worry, fear, and guilt she’d tried to hide from Mia over the past three weeks bubbled up inside Sophie and exploded in a torrent of tears and noisy sobs. She stood there like a blubbering idiot, helpless to get herself under control. Covering her mouth with both hands only served to muffle the wracking, body-heaving sobs.

  It was like she was channeling her passionate and emotional Italian grandmother. That thought alone should have been enough to put an end to Sophie’s cringe-worthy performance, but she was afraid it was about to get worse when she sensed the crowd looking her way and a half-hysterical giggle escaped from between her fingers.

  And then Liam was there, pulling her against his muscled chest. His arm across her back was firm and supportive, his big hand gentle as he stroked her hair. As he held both her and her daughter in his arms, Sophie leaned into him, soaking up every ounce of his warmth and comfort. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had held her like this. The last time someone had told her everything was going to be okay, and she believed them.

  He whispered the words against her hair—the pull of his deep, gravelly voice stronger than the urgent one in her head demanding she release the man she once prayed would notice her. He was a Gallagher—a danger, not a balm. But it had been so long since she’d had someone to lean on that she couldn’t bring herself to let him go. She wanted to experience the feeling of being safe and protected for just a little longer. Her brief reprieve was cut short when the strong smell of ammonia invaded her nostrils.

  She lifted her head and glanced at Mia then raised her questioning gaze to Liam. Her heart skipped a beat when she met his eyes. If she’d been asking the question out loud, the words wouldn’t have made it out of her mouth. Shock and a healthy dose of feminine appreciation would have held them hostage. With her panic over Mia and the smoke in the manor, Sophie hadn’t registered just how tall and broad he’d become. She didn’t remember his eyes being that deep, compassionate blue. Or his face with its chiseled angles being so breath-stealingly beautiful beneath his thick, wavy black hair, his nose strong and bold above his full, sensuous lips. Her blatant study of Liam ended the moment he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Her little girl had been terrified and wet her pants.

  Sophie’s view of Liam’s handsome face blurred as tears once again flooded her eyes. If she hadn’t caught Mia staring at her from under the helmet just then, Sophie would have subjected her audience to another ugly cry. But that wide-eyed, worried look on her daughter’s face was all it took for Sophie to pull herself together. Too bad she hadn’t thought of that a few minutes ago.

  She stepped away from Liam and turned her head, giving her eyes and nose a quick wipe on the sleeve of her black hoodie before looking up at him with a self-conscious smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I should be thanking you, and instead I cried all…” She went to touch the damp spot on his T-shirt but quickly jerked her hand away, afraid she might be tempted to pet his rock-hard pecs or fall into his arms again. “Sorry, we’ve been on the road for six days, and I haven’t gotten much sleep. And then when Mia—”

  Liam ducked his head to look her in the eyes, a slight smile touching his perfect lips.

  “Sophie, you don’t have to be embarrassed. Does she, Mia?”

  Her daughter looked like she was about to nod—Yes, she does—but then glanced at Liam and shook her head.

  Sophie winced at Mia’s initial reaction. “Thanks, but it was a pretty epic meltdown. I don’t usually fall apart like that.” And make a complete and utter spectacle of herself, she thought, as she lifted Mia’s hand to her lips and kissed her soft palm. “You okay, baby?” she asked, hesitating before rubbing her daughter’s fine-boned fingers against her cheek. These days Mia rarely let Sophie display any kind of motherly affection, and she took advantage of the moment, holding Mia’s hand against her face.

  What she wouldn’t give to have her daughter back. The little girl who spent more time singing than talking, who giggled and made jokes and loved to play make-believe and kiss and cuddle her mother. Sophie squeezed her eyes tight to keep the tears at bay. She had to knock off the emotional crap. She’d embarrassed her daughter enough for one day.

  Mia pulled back her hand and nodded. Sophie wondered what Liam thought of her daughter’s chilly reception to her affection. But he was looking past her, his broad shoulders rising on a deep, inward breath.

  “Liam, paramedics are waiting to check you over,” his father called out.

  Picking up on the tension in Chief Gallagher’s voice, Sophie glanced over her shoulder. Liam’s father was a tall and handsome man. Like his son, he was one of the to-serve-and-protect Gallaghers—calm and quietly commanding. But the way he was dragging his hand over his thick head of gray hair didn’t seem the least bit calm. He appeared upset with his son.

  She looked up at Liam. “Is there something wrong?”

  “No, nothing.” He smiled at Mia as he handed her off to Sophie. “I’ll take this.” He carefully removed the helmet from her daughter’s head. “But you better keep my jacket. Temperature’s dropped, and we don’t want you catching a cold.” He winked at Mia then looked at Sophie. “Wasn’t under the best of circumstances, but it was good seeing you. Marco should be finished in there shortly. Take care. You too, sweetheart.” He lightly tapped his finger on her daughter’s small, upturned nose before moving to walk away.

  “Liam, wait.” Sophie reached for his hand. He turned, and she slipped her hand into his. His fingers were calloused, warm, and strong. “Thank you for finding Mia. For…” Unable to mention the pants-wetting episode without embarrassing her daughter, Sophie said, “Thank you for everything you did for us tonight.”

  He gave her fingers a light squeeze. “Just doing my job, Soph.”

  “I doubt comforting hysterical women is in your job description.” He’d done more than comfort her; he hadn’t judged her. And he’d made her daughter feel safe. He had no idea what an incredible feat that was.

  “You’d be surprised.” He smiled as he extricated his fingers from hers. “I better get going.”

  Well, that was embarrassing. She hadn’t realized how tight she’d been holding on. “Oh, right, sorry. Bye,” she said, sounding a little disappointed even to her own ears. She shouldn’t be. She should be relieved he was walking away without commenting on Mia’s Gallagher-blue eyes or asking questions about why Sophie had come home and why her daughter had been happier in his arms than hers. The on
ly reason she could think of for her disappointment was that Liam had been a friendly, familiar face.

  Not that familiar, she thought, as he walked away and she got her first good look at the way he filled out his navy T-shirt, at the corded muscles of his arms and the breadth of his shoulders, his wide back tapering to meet turnout pants held up by suspenders. Her memories of him were of a handsome boy, but now he was all man. An incredibly gorgeous man with a body…

  Sophie blinked, surprised at the direction of her thoughts, by the warm flutter in her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last man who gave her butterflies. Between trying to eke out a living and taking care of her daughter, she hadn’t had time for a love life. She’d been like the pet hamster in Mia’s classroom—constantly running on the wheel of life, trying to get ahead. Instead she’d been trapped and going in circles. Until the fire at their apartment had stopped the wheel, and they’d both fallen off.

  Only this time, Liam had been there to catch them, to save them, to…Whoa, where the heck had that come from? Sophie rolled her eyes. Fantasies were fine for seven-year-olds but they were dangerous for a twenty-six-year-old woman starting over. She didn’t have time for a man. She had to focus on repairing her relationship with her daughter and building them a good life. A better one than they’d left behind. And the last man she should be fantasizing about was a Gallagher.

  Maybe she should have shared that with her daughter, she thought when Mia wriggled out of her arms and set off determinedly after Liam, his tan-colored jacket with the strips of neon-yellow tape dragging behind her daughter like a bride’s train.

  “Mia baby, come back here. We have to wait for Uncle Marco,” Sophie called out, sighing when Mia ignored her. After her crying jag, Sophie had hoped to stay right where she was. Far away from the crowd gathered near the ambulances and fire engines. She wanted to avoid Colleen and Kitty. The less contact she had with the two older women the better.

  When Sophie’s car broke down five miles outside of town, she’d decided it was safer to cut through the Gallaghers’ five-thousand-acre estate rather than walk on the side of the road at night. If it wasn’t Halloween, it probably would have been. But she and Mia had stumbled out of the woods and ended smack dab in the middle of the Gallaghers’ haunted tour—a Harmony Harbor institution. One that Sophie had taken part in over the years. Mostly tagging along after Marco and Liam. Back then, Sophie had been half in love with her brother’s best friend. After years of trying to get Liam to notice her, though, she’d given up. Then his older and, in Sophie’s then-teenage mind, more exciting and sophisticated cousin, Michael Gallagher, came to town.

  Liam looked over his shoulder. The lights from the emergency vehicles cast his face in shadows and light. She made out a flash of white teeth when he smiled and held out a hand to her daughter. He glanced at Sophie and lifted a broad shoulder. “Might not be a bad idea to have her checked over.”

  No, it was a good idea. There hadn’t been a fire, but there’d been enough smoke to irritate her daughter’s already sensitive lungs. Sophie nodded as she started toward them.

  “Just a precaution, Sophie,” Liam said, as though he sensed she was beating herself up for not thinking to get Mia checked out herself. Either that or he was worried she’d have another meltdown. He didn’t know her anymore. He didn’t know that, other than the night she was arrested and thought she’d never see her daughter again, Sophie never broke down. She didn’t cry or whine or complain either. She took life’s blows on the chin and moved on. Until tonight, she hadn’t realized how tired she was of moving on, of putting on a brave face.

  Kitty Gallagher walked toward Sophie. An elegant, older woman with white-blond hair that framed her classically beautiful face, Liam’s grandmother wore hunter-green rubber boots, a Mackintosh jacket the same color, and a sympathetic look in her blue eyes. Kitty had been lovely and kind to Sophie and Mia, insisting they join them at the manor for some Halloween treats. If Sophie hadn’t seen the hint of a smile on her daughter’s face as she held and petted the Gallaghers’ black cat, she would have politely refused the invitation. It had been a mistake not to. One more to add to an ever-growing list.

  Kitty looped her arm through Sophie’s. “Don’t worry. Liam’s a registered EMT. If he’d been the least bit concerned about Mia, he would have run her over to the paramedics straightaway,” the older woman said in a soft, lilting voice.

  The knot in Sophie’s chest loosened at Kitty’s reassurance. Though it tightened again as she watched Liam walk toward the ambulance with her daughter’s tiny, trusting hand in his.

  “It appears my grandson has become a hero in your daughter’s eyes, Sophie,” Kitty said with a fond smile.

  For a few brief moments, Sophie had felt the same. But now, more than ever, she wished she’d been the one to find her daughter. What she wouldn’t give to have Mia look at her like she was her hero. “I’m not surprised. He was wonderful with her.”

  “He has a way of putting everyone at ease, our Liam does. But I think there may be more to it than that. I think Mia recognized a kindred spirit.”

  Sophie stopped abruptly, the force of the movement jerking the older woman backward. “Sorry.” She reached out to steady Kitty while berating herself for overreacting. She hadn’t seen any signs earlier that either Kitty or Colleen had been the least bit suspicious that Mia was one of theirs. If Kitty had been, Sophie’s reaction just now might have tipped her hand.

  “Sorry,” she apologized again, pointing to a puddle. “I thought it was black ice. I didn’t want you to slip.” She stifled a groan at her excuse. Honestly, if she was going to stay in Harmony Harbor for more than a few days, she had to become a better liar. Rosa, her grandmother, would see through her in a heartbeat. And the next words out of Kitty’s mouth made Sophie wonder if she had too.

  “None of us can afford to slip, can we, dear?” She held Sophie’s gaze for a brief moment then gave her a winsome smile. “You don’t have to worry about me. I come from good Irish stock. Strong bones and constitution.”

  Fear buzzed through Sophie, making it difficult to think. She wasn’t sure if Kitty’s remark had been innocent or a warning that she knew her secret. She wanted to run to the back of the ambulance where Liam had just placed her daughter, scoop up Mia, and spirit her away. Before she followed through with the thought, Kitty nodded at Mia, who scooted over to make room for Liam beside her. “My grandson sees it, too, I think. But of course he would.”

  Sophie’s throat closed with panic. She’d lost her chance to escape. Kitty would confront her now.

  “I should probably explain before you think I’m just a fanciful old woman. Both Liam and Mia were recently traumatized in a fire. It’s a connection they share. One I think they recognize in each other.”

  Sophie’s shoulders sagged in relief, and she was able to breathe again. It took a little longer to actually form a coherent thought. When she was finally able to, she asked, “What happened to Liam?” while at the same time searching for some outward sign of his trauma.

  He was making faces at Mia as he blew into a tube that measured his lung capacity. His antics earned him a small smile from her daughter. He had no idea how big a deal that was. Over the past several weeks, Sophie had become well acquainted with a similar plastic cylinder. Getting Mia to submit to tests of any kind had been trying, but that one in particular…

  Sophie drew her gaze from her daughter and Liam when Kitty answered her question. “They responded to a four-alarm fire at a warehouse and ended up in the middle of a gang turf war. Liam was shot trying to rescue his friend, a fellow firefighter, who sadly died. Despite his own injuries, Liam saved two other men.”

  She wondered if that’s why Chief Gallagher and her brother had been angry when Liam spoke about removing his breathing apparatus. Which he’d done for Mia. Sophie knew this because her daughter had been wearing his BA when he’d carried her out of the manor. Something she was able to recollect now thanks to hindsight. Obviously her
meltdown had been long enough that he’d been able to remove the equipment before taking Sophie into his arms.

  A tiny shiver accompanied the warm fuzzies at the thought. Liam Gallagher had once held a special place in her heart. It was kind of scary to think that he’d come close to reclaiming it in less than a couple hours back in Harmony Harbor.

  Kitty continued, lowering her voice as they drew closer to the ambulance. “He refuses to talk about that night. And heaven help you if you suggest his actions were heroic. His father’s worried about him, and so am I.”

  “He seems fine,” Sophie said, thinking of his commanding presence when she’d first seen him in the manor. His reassuring calm and confidence.

  Kitty raised an eyebrow. “So does Mia.”

  Sophie’d had no choice but to share with Liam’s great-grandmother and grandmother why Mia didn’t speak, so Kitty was well aware that Sophie’s daughter was far from fine. But she didn’t get the chance to acknowledge that the older woman made a good point. The female paramedic was at that moment attempting to check her daughter’s lung capacity.

  With a mutinous expression on her face, Mia crossed her arms and pressed her lips together. Sophie caught the look of surprise on Liam’s face. People were always surprised when Mia, who looked like an angel, displayed the stubbornness of a mule.

  “You take care of Mia, dear. I have to speak to my son before my mother-in-law tries to convince him I’m the one who turned on the fog machines. It would be just like her to throw me under the bus.” Kitty lifted her chin to where Colin Gallagher stood a few feet away with the Gallagher matriarch and her right-hand man, Jasper.