Hope Under Mistletoe (Seasons of Hope Book 1)

by Patch, Jessica R.

  God, please let the church be done in time to hold our Christmas Eve service.

  Her leg twitched as she drifted to sleep in prayer.

  The shrill ringing of the phone jolted her awake. She peeped at the clock. 1:52 a.m.

  That meant one thing.

  “Knox?”

  “I’m sorry, Eden. I’d take him home myself, but I still have a few that need rides. I can’t leave them alone.” His raspy voice held sincerity, but sincerity wouldn’t sober up Pop.

  “How about cut him off before it gets out of control, and he can drive himself home.” She sighed and swung her feet over the bed. “I’m on my way.” She hung up and called Evelyn, her next door neighbor to come sit with sleeping Eli.

  “I’m so sorry to do this to you again, Evelyn.” Eden grabbed her coat and keys.

  “Don’t you worry. Go on and do what you need to. I’m a night owl. Hadn’t even been to bed yet.”

  Eden rushed down Highway 8 until the dim neon lights of The Penalty Box shone. She parked next to Pop’s truck and climbed out. The wind forced her to put some elbow grease on the door as she shoved it open, finding Pop on the last stool closest to the back room—the room they’d been using to worship in.

  Knox leaned on the bar, towel over his shoulder, extra stubble over his chin, cheeks and neck. Another man slumped at a table by the overhead TV, and a young woman sat gawking at Knox and drooling in the booth by the juke box. Bet she wouldn’t need a ride home. Furthest she was probably going was upstairs.

  Eden clamped her teeth together, working to focus on Pop and not stray thoughts of Knox touching the blonde in the booth. “Hey Pop.” She marched to the end of the bar.

  “What—arrrre—you doin’ here, kitt—en?”

  “Came to take you home.” She slung his arm around her neck. “Same as last week.” And the weeks before. She glared at Knox.

  “My truck got s-s-stolen?” He cackled, the smell of whiskey nearly knocking her to the floor.

  “No. You can’t drive.” Eden strained to lift him.

  “Let me help.” Knox hopped over the bar and grasped Pop’s arm.

  “I think you’ve helped enough, Knox. I’ll take it from here.” Like she always did. Pop put all his weight on her, and she stumbled but caught herself. He was seriously sloshed tonight.

  “I wasn’t here for the first half of the night. Cassie was. She—”

  Eden stabbed a glare into his three-day-old coffee-colored eyes. “No. Just—no.” She hobbled out of the bar with Pop draped over her and unfolded him into her truck. “We’ll get yours tomorrow. Let’s get you home to bed.”

  “I-I-loooove you, kitt-en.” He hiccupped and flung his head on the back of the truck seat.

  Eden closed her eyes, forced back the burning tears, and cranked the ignition. “I love you, too, Pop.”

  She’d love it if he wouldn’t torture himself with the bottle.

  She’d love for Knox Everhart to stop saucing the town. Couldn’t he see the damage it inflicted on loved ones? Didn’t he even care? Eden was sure she saw a flash of remorse in his eyes when she’d lugged Pop into the frigid temps, but it hadn’t stopped him and he wouldn’t dwell on it; he had a blonde with a perky nose and perky…whatevers—bet she never nursed a kid for a year—waiting on him to lock up. The last thing plaguing Knox’s mind would be Eden lugging a man over two hundred pounds and six feet tall up slick porch steps into an empty and cold home.

  God, when will this end? Shine some light in Pop’s heart. Help him to see this doesn’t help. It won’t heal him from losing Mom or whatever else may ail him. And help me get him in the house without breaking either of our legs.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Knox massaged the back of his neck, poured another shot of whiskey and launched it down his gullet, working to burn away Eden’s accusing eyes as she dragged her pop out of the bar the other night. The minute her old man walked in, Knox’s stomach nagged him. He should have told him to leave, but Walt McMahan would’ve headed over to the Frosty Mug and they wouldn’t have called Eden when he stumbled out the door for his truck.

  Eden’s slapping his hand away to help hadn’t stung nearly as much as her words.

  “I think you’ve helped enough.”

  To add injury to insult, she’d locked her watery blues on Wendy who had been impatiently waiting on him to close up the bar. When she looked back at Knox, not so much disgust—which he could take—but disappointment had turned her lips south. And that almost did him in for the night. Almost. He’d still taken Wendy upstairs, hoping she’d make him forget Eden’s face.

  She hadn’t.

  So here he was on Monday night—the only night he closed—getting drunk and still failing at forgetting. He rolled a peppermint stick between his fingers and tossed back another shot.

  The side entrance door opened. “We’re closed,” he bellowed, and squinted to make out the figure. He swore under his breath. Should’ve locked the door.

  There went trying to forget Eden Snow. Hard to forget someone standing like an angel in front of your face.

  “Door was open,” Eden said. She laid her purse on the bar and eyed the bottle of whiskey. “Should I come back later?”

  Knox sniffed, his head spinning. Man, she was like a fancy dessert. Sweet smelling, enticing, worth clicking a photo of and posting on Facebook. “Nope. Come on in. Want to keep me company, Eden?” The words rolled off his tongue easily, his fuzzy brain fueling the bravado.

  Eden skirted against the wall by the door. “Depends on what you mean by company.”

  He laughed and shoved a peppermint stick between his lips. “Don’t worry, Eden, I won’t rob you of your virtue.” Kicking the chair out from behind him, it toppled to the floor as he staggered toward her. He placed his hands on the wall as much to keep him upright as to pin her in. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  Eden’s nose turned up, but she held his hazy gaze. Three gorgeous Edens in front of him. He worked to focus on the one in the middle.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I am,” he hissed. “I’m sloppy, can’t-help-myself drunk.” He stuck his nose against her cheek and inhaled. “You smell so good, Eden.”

  She smacked his chest with her hand. “Back away from me, Knox. I’m not interested.”

  His nose less than an inch from hers, he murmured, “What are you interested in?”

  “Getting you sober for one.” She ducked under his arm, strode toward the bar area, and snatched the half-drained bottle of whiskey. “How about coffee?”

  Knox’s stalked after her. “Why are you always so good?”

  Eden pivoted and stumbled over a chair. “Why are you always so bad?”

  He stalked her like a wolf, ignoring the numbed thoughts that warned him to back off. To get a hold of himself. The booze encouraged him to press further.

  She inhaled and blinked several times.

  Knox threaded a strand of her hair through his fingers. “If you let me, I could make you do bad things, Eden.” A wave of heat surged through his body.

  It was there in her eyes, the red flag, but he was too inebriated to block it. She clocked his jaw hard enough it forced his head to the side. But he felt no pain. Jack Daniels had done his job.

  Laughing, he wiggled his jaw. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “You’re a cad.” She shoved him and he toppled over a table, flipped over and landed face-up on the cold, hardwood floor.

  “I don’t need a cab, Eden. Help me up.” Nothing was funny, but he chuckled anyway.

  She ignored him, but didn’t leave. He heard cabinet doors opening and water running, then the coffee pot gurgled.

  The room spun in circles. He might be sick. “Eden, help me up for real.”

  “Help yourself, Knox.”

  He rolled onto his stomach and groaned. The tips of her shoes met his nose, and he dared a glance up at her face. “You’re tall.”

  “Coffee. Black. Strong. Get up.” That sounded li
ke mom-scolding.

  Knox wasn’t sure he could move. Instead, he peered into her intense blue eyes. Man, she was beautiful. “Eden, why didn’t we ever get together?”

  “Because you chased tail, and I loved Nathan.” She frowned and put the coffee on the table.

  “I could have loved you.”

  She blasted out one non-humorous honk. “Your idea of love and my idea are two different things.”

  “What about that summer at the quarry? You came every day. In that blue one-piece. I could have eaten you up.” Oh, he could have. Never flaunting her assets like the other girls—which made her even more appealing—but he kept his distance and barely spoke to her out of fear.

  Fear he’d go off the chain and do something reckless.

  Her eyes bugged out, and her cheeks turned pink. “Get up, Knox.” She held out her hand and he clasped it, letting her haul him to his feet.

  “I need to use the john and I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  Eden groaned and helped him into the bathroom, then retreated.

  “Thanks, Eden. You’re the best. Best of the best. Betterest of the bestest…You’re—”

  “Getting on my nerves.” She slammed the door, rattling the walls.

  “I should’ve locked the doors,” he muttered and lost his dinner in the toilet.

  ***

  Eden heaved a sigh and stilled her shaking hands by running them through her hair.

  This is exactly why she’d always run like the wind from Knox Everhart. The man remembered her swim suit? Eden assumed her lanky figure had never appealed to him.

  Back then it kind of irked her, but at present, she was thankful for steering clear of him. Nothing but a skirt-chasing pervert.

  She stomped into the back room to work on the food baskets, which was her intention all along.

  But was it? It was Monday, and he was closed. It would have been just as easy to show up on Tuesday when they wouldn’t be alone.

  Biting her lip and kicking herself mentally, she gawked at the six-foot tables that now lined the side walls. How had she missed that? Because deep down, food baskets were the last thing on her mind. Knox had set up the tables, then filled at least fifty baskets with Christmas Day food items.

  The man was a contradiction.

  “Hey.”

  She jumped and spun around. Knox filled the doorway, a cup coffee in his hand. “You meant it when you said strong, didn’t you?”

  Eden studied him. He’d yet to slur his words—other than that whole best betterest atrocity—but his glassy eyes and the fact he smelled like a brewery said he was still seriously intoxicated. “Are you still drunk?”

  “Oh yeah.” He grinned.

  Eden wanted to punch her own face when her stomach dipped. “Then keep your distance.”

  “You sayin’ if I’m sober, I can come close.”

  “No.” Her pulse tripped. “Did you do this?” Eden pointed to the organized baskets of food.

  “What will you give me if I did?” His eyebrows went north, and he picked up a box of Stove Top Stuffing from one of the baskets. “I haven’t had stuffing since I was a kid.”

  Eden snatched the box from his hands. “This really isn’t what I’d call stuffing, but…”

  Knox leaned on the table, pulled a peppermint stick from his pocket and held it between his lips. “So?”

  Eden frowned. “So what?”

  “So what do I get?”

  “My gratitude.” She put the stuffing mix back in the basket. “You’ve saved me hours of time, Knox.” Would he remember if she thanked him in this drunken state?

  He grunted and crunched into his candy stick. “Just because I run a den of sin doesn’t mean I can’t care about hungry people.”

  “You filled these because you care about hungry people?” Eden ran her fingers along the top of the table.

  “I care about...” He rubbed his hands over his face and marched to the side entrance door. “If you’re not gonna come upstairs for the night, you might as well leave. Nothing else to do here.”

  Eden collected her things. “You’re a terrible drunk. How do you ever charm women upstairs?”

  “Had you ever been upstairs, you’d know.” He tugged her hair. “’Night, Eden.”

  She ignored his ego and his words. This was the Knox she’d encouraged Nathan to distance himself from. Trouble. Mean. Lewd. But he’d put the baskets together while she’d been at the Emergency Room. He’d welcomed the church into his place and been nothing but cordial and helpful to the congregation.

  “Lord, how can one man be depraved on the one hand and kind on the other?”

  He’d yet to bow a knee to a holy king. That’s how. All the way home, she prayed for that insufferable, sweet, and ridiculously attractive man to know Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Knox positioned the tree in the corner by the juke box.

  “Little to the left.” Barking orders, Cassie squatted in front of him.

  He rolled his eyes and moved it to the left. “Cassie, I have nine million things to be doing. Can’t we just plant the joker down and call it a day?” Since Cassie came onboard as bartender, she’d “spruced” up the holidays. Twinkling lights overhead and a Christmas tree.

  Two days had passed without seeing Eden. Two days since his drunken stupor. What a fool he’d been. Treating Eden Snow like a piece of meat, not a dainty dessert. Heck, the woman wasn’t food to begin with. He’d bet the bar she hated him. Might even quit holding her church services and singing practices here. That thought squeezed his stomach.

  “Knox, you’ve been stewing over something for days. What’s your deal?”

  He groaned. “I did something I shouldn’t have, and I regret it sorely.”

  Cassie dug through a box of ornaments and retrieved a few silver bells. “I thought your motto was ‘no regrets’?”

  Not when it came to Eden. He’d been lewd. Downright crass. Invited her into his bed! He might be sick again. He rubbed his jaw. Lady had a fierce arm. He’d deserved it too—and more. Nathan would have boxed his ears. I’m so sorry, my friend. Forgive me.

  The biting wind hit him before the squawky voice of a middle-aged woman. “I came to drop off some coats.”

  Knox poked his head out from behind the tree. When was the coat drive over? “I can take it.” He glared at Cassie. “My job here is done.”

  “Scrooge.” She marched over to the tree with a box of red ornaments.

  “Bah humbug.” He shoved her playfully. The woman with hair too short for her face scanned the bar, curiosity widening her eyes. It was a bar not a brothel.

  “Oh,” she grinned. “Sorry. I’ve never been in here before. I don’t drink but a glass of wine every now and then. But I don’t get drunk. Ever.”

  Tell it to a priest, sister. “Thanks for the coats. I’ll make sure Eden gets them.”

  She gawked at the liquor behind the bar. “She’s such a sweet woman.”

  For once she said something they agreed on. “Have a good one.” Aaaand exit.

  She waved to Cassie, wrapped in a strand of lights, and left the bar. “You’d think they stepped into outer space sometimes, huh?”

  “I suppose. Give me a hand.”

  Knox applauded and she peeked out from behind the branches, sticking out her tongue. “I’m serious. I need some big ole’ brawny arms and height to get this strand to the top.”

  “I’m not a ladder.” Knox grabbed the lights and easily wrapped them around the top of the six foot fir she insisted they purchase. Christmas trees and twinkling lights served as a reminder he didn’t have family to spend the holidays with, and even when he had, it wasn’t a place of laughter or joy. Bah humbug indeed.

  Commotion from the pool area drew his attention. He’d left the side door entrance unlocked. Eden? Nathan’s son blew through the doors Eden had built and installed with Knox’s help. One more thing that was attractive about her. She could wield a hammer like nobody’s bu
siness. Knox shook off thoughts of skin and tool belts. Unthinkable. No way to treat a woman like Eden. Especially sober.

  “Hey, Mr. Everhart. Dude, so this is a bar.”

  Knox clamped down on his chuckle, but Cassie giggled. “This is a bar. Where’s your mom?” His gut knotted.

  “Carrying in some tubs for the coats. I outgrew mine so it went in.” His proud smile revealed deep set dimples—like Eden’s. “Can I sit at this bar if I don’t order a beer?” He snickered.

  Knox pointed to the stool. “You not in school today?”

  “Nope. Snow day, baby. Two feet. Mom says the roads couldn’t get fixed quick enough, and the rural kids had no way to get to school. Wish I lived in the rural.”

  Knox chuckled. “You hungry?” It was only nine o’clock.

  “Whacha got?” The kids’ feet dangled as he studied the array of drinks behind the bar.

  “I have cereal. Captain Crunch.”

  “I’m all in.”

  “Give me a minute.” He exited the archway and opened the side entrance door. Eden was dragging Rubber Maid tubs from the bed of the truck. Better get it over with now. “Let me help, and then your kid wants cereal.”

  Eden raised her head, cheeks rosy against milky white skin, and her nose had tinged pink. “They’re empty. I can manage, and I told Eli not to go in the bar area. It wasn’t for kids.”

  What all had she told her boy about the bar? About him? He’d only been around the kid a handful of times when Nathan was alive.

  “He’s fine. We don’t open till noon. About the other night…”

  Eden focused expectant eyes on him.

  “I’m sorry. I was completely out of line.”

  “You were. And you’re forgiven.” She grinned. “How’s your jaw?”

  “You have a mean right hook.” He winked.

  “Is he in there alone? I don’t want him messing with anything. He’s curious.” She hauled another tub from the truck.

  “Just Cassie in there decorating the tree.”

  She raised a brow. “You put up a tree?”

  “No. Cassie did.” He grabbed the tubs anyway and carried them inside. “I’ll get that cereal.” Before Eden could protest, he raced upstairs and got what he needed then brought it back down. Eli was still perched on the stool babbling with Cassie as “A Holly Jolly Christmas” filtered through the room.