The Firefighter's Christmas Reunion

by Christy Jeffries

  “I see they’re upping the ante on their attempts to keep throwing us in each other’s path.” She was wearing a fuzzy green sweater and Isaac was glad his hands were otherwise occupied with freeing a toy from its bondage. Otherwise, he would’ve been tempted to reach his thumb out to test the soft, plush material. “Although, it seems you were a willing participant this time.”

  “In the interest of fairness, I was a willing participant for their last attempts, as well.”

  She jutted out her chin. “So you were fine with the bachelor auction?”

  He shook his head. “God, no. I hated that. I was very unwilling for that one. But I wasn’t reluctant about the outcome or being your date at the VFW.”

  Her brow creased. “And attending Luke and Carmen’s wedding?”

  “I had some reservations, but I’m a grown man. I could’ve easily said no on both occasions.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” she asked.

  Because he was a glutton for punishment and he wanted to be with Hannah any chance he got. Even if she hated him.

  “Did you see the tree?” Isaac asked, using Luke’s tactic to change the subject. “I sure hope they’re keeping plenty of water in there. Fire hazard, you know.”

  “Luckily, my family seems to have a firefighter on speed dial.” She managed a smirk before walking away. Just when he thought that she was going to dismiss him, she looked over her shoulder and added, “Come on. I think Sammy has a present for you buried under this mess somewhere.”

  Isaac felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth and he followed her. As she drew him deeper into the heart of the room, deeper into the fold of her family, he let himself wonder if he could ever belong in her world. In a family like this.

  Isaac scanned the room, his eyes landing on Sammy, who had probably thought the same thing when he’d arrived from halfway across the globe to start a new life. But now Sammy was laughing with his new cousins, aiming squishy darts at a very unfortunate-looking snowman statue, and seeming to fit in perfectly.

  If a six-year-old could do it, so could Isaac.

  He gave a discreet cough and looked away when Hannah bent over to dig through some torn paper under the tree. Heat raced through him and he told himself that he was here for a family gathering and needed to stop lusting after his ex-girlfriend’s curvy backside.

  “Here it is,” she called out, rising and waving a rectangular box wrapped in paper decorated with fire engines and wreaths. “We were going to bring it to the station after the holidays, but Sammy insisted all the gifts should go under the same tree. Sounds like he and my mom were in cahoots on getting you here tonight. I have no idea what’s inside.”

  She stepped through a minefield of bows, a piece of bubble wrap attaching itself to her knee-high boots before she took a seat on an open spot of the gray suede sectional. “Sammy, do you want to give Chief Isaac your present?”

  The boy looked over and, in his distraction, took a blunt-tipped orange dart to the temple.

  “Sorry!” Aiden yelled.

  But Sammy didn’t seem to mind as he called out, “Cease fire,” and made his way over toward his mom. Isaac was standing awkwardly beside the sofa when Sammy yanked on his arm.

  “Sit here, next to Mama.” Sammy all but shoved Isaac down onto the cushion beside Hannah before planting himself on the other side, preventing Isaac from scooting over. He could feel the heat radiating from her body as her legging-clad thigh pressed against his. It was way too warm and way too comfortable. Would it always have been this way if they hadn’t held a grudge for so long? How many years had they wasted by not talking things out sooner?

  And what could he do at this late date to rewrite history? Preferably, so that they could both come out on top.

  * * *

  Hannah had been livid two days ago when she found out her mother had gone AWOL and driven up the mountain road with Sammy and Big Dot to go to the fire station when she should’ve been resting. It was no wonder that Donna Gregson was able to shut down any further argument by declaring that she would feel more at peace if she knew her daughter was happy and had someone to love. And after that run-in with Elaine Marconi the same day, Hannah had resolved to try one more time to come to a resolution with Isaac. For nobody’s sake but her own.

  Of course, she hadn’t expected that resolution to take place on Christmas Eve with her whole family eavesdropping.

  Now Isaac was sitting beside her, the close proximity causing her pulse to skyrocket. He was holding Sammy’s gift in his hand, turning it every which way as he studied the fire trucks on the paper and quizzed her son about which models they were. Just open it, already. Before I spontaneously combust.

  For the past forty-eight hours, she’d desperately wanted to peek inside the package to see what her son had made for his hero. She was about to grab the gift herself and tear through the tape when Isaac finally slid his finger below a folded edge. It took forever—was he deliberately taking his time to neatly tear through Sammy’s carefully taped seams?—but he eventually got to the plain white box underneath. By the time Isaac slowly lifted the lid, Hannah was wringing her hands in her lap.

  The piles of red tissue paper took another thirty seconds to dig through and Hannah tapped her boot, frustrated that the only thing she could see under the tissue was the edge of a wooden frame.

  “Did you make this yourself, big guy?” Isaac asked.

  “Yep,” her son said, sounding more and more like his American schoolmates. “Remember how I told you we drew pictures of our families in class? Well, when I was at the fire station, I didn’t see a picture of your family in your office, so I drew one for you.”

  It took Hannah a moment to realize that Isaac was silent because he was, in fact, a bit overcome by Sammy’s gift.

  “I love it,” Isaac said, a hint of emotion cracking through his good-time facade. When he wrapped an arm around Sammy’s shoulders in a hug so intense even the boy seemed a bit surprised, Hannah leaned in for a closer look, but could only glimpse half of the portrait. It was clearly Isaac in his turnout gear, and the man with the bushy gray mustache beside him was his Uncle Jonesy. The fat, impossibly short-legged, speckled gray horse next to the man made it even more obvious that it was Isaac’s uncle.

  It wasn’t until Isaac pulled away from Sammy that the box and tissue paper on his lap shifted, revealing the rest of the portrait. She gave a soft gasp when she realized that Sammy had drawn himself beside Isaac, the brown and tan colors blending where their hands were clasped. And then there was Hannah, her hair bright yellow and her head looking unusually large in comparison to the other people on the paper. Like, super large, with a cloud floating next to her oversize ear. The head and neck of Big Dot (or possibly a cow) was squished in between Hannah’s rounded kneecap and the edge of the page.

  “I ran out of room here,” Sammy said, pointing to the animal’s front half. “I started drawing only you and Mr. Jonesy, because you guys are each other’s family. But it was kinda plain and boring. I didn’t know what your parents looked like, so I drew my mama in there ’cause she’s a parent and you guys used to be best friends a long time ago.”

  Hannah’s heart turned into a puddle inside her rib cage and she felt Isaac’s shoulder move behind hers before his palm slid onto her back. “Good. Because I’d like to be best friends with your mama again.”

  “And then I had to squeeze me in right there because it’s a family picture and me and Mama and Big Dot are a family and go together,” Sammy said, and Hannah had to look up at the ceiling to keep the tears from spilling over onto her cheeks.

  “Well, I think this family portrait is perfect and I can’t wait to hang it in my office.” Isaac’s thumb traced circles against Hannah’s lower spine, and for a few moments everything did, in fact, feel pretty perfect.

  Then he smiled at her and her heart melted again. She should’ve known sh
e would be a goner as soon as she walked into the pancake breakfast two months ago and saw him.

  The doorbell rang, Big Dot barked and Sammy took off through a sea of toys and discarded gift wrap to chase the dog. Everyone else seemed to have moved toward the opposite end of the room, but Hannah and Isaac remained planted on the sofa, not saying a word. Was her family trying to give them space to talk? Or was someone hurt? Or were they watching a basketball game on TV? It really could be anything with her relatives.

  Hannah leaned to the side, watching as Luke opened the front door to greet Jonesy with a laugh and a handshake. The two men looked over at Hannah and Isaac with a wink from her brother and a grouchy, “Well, what’s takin’ him so long?” from the older man before they slipped away into the kitchen.

  “Looks like your uncle made the surprise guest list, too,” she said when she turned back to Isaac. But instead of acknowledging her, he was holding the frame in his hands studying the drawing with a deep intensity that made Hannah’s tummy flutter.

  “Did you know about this?” Isaac finally asked.

  “No clue. He brought it home that day my mom watched him. It was already wrapped.”

  She wanted to tell Isaac that he didn’t have to actually hang the picture in his office. That it might be too awkward for him.

  “What do you really think of the fa...of the portrait?” she asked, catching herself from saying family at the last minute.

  “Well, it’s not exactly accurate,” he started, and Hannah felt the blood leave her face. Sammy was very proud of the drawing and would be hurt if Isaac totally disregarded it. But one side of Isaac’s mouth curved up in a grin. “I mean, your head’s not literally bigger than mine in real life and Uncle Jonesy is looking a bit thick in the midsection. He almost resembles Mayor Johnston.”

  A gurgle of laughter escaped from Hannah’s lips, which had been clamped together, expecting the worst. Isaac continued, “And there’s a few things I wouldn’t mind adding.”

  Adding. Not subtracting.

  “Like what?” Hannah held her breath.

  “Like, Klondike needs her saddle and Big Dot needs her red collar and this spot, right here, needs something.” Isaac tapped on the glass over the uneven peach-colored ovals of Hannah’s fingers on her left hand. “I’d draw a ring right here. Make it an official family portrait.”

  All the air left Hannah’s lungs at once. She went light-headed. Did he just say what she thought he’d said?

  She lifted her gaze to his, looking back and forth between his two eyes as though all the answers in the world could be found within those hazel depths.

  “I know we hurt each other in the past,” he said earnestly. “And I know you have Sammy and your mom’s health and so many other things that you’re dealing with right now. I’m not asking for a clean slate or to start over again, but you have to admit that there’s something between us—some sort of connection—that we can’t ignore. Deep down, Hannah, can you honestly tell me that we’re not better when we’re together?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve never been fully together. Like, all official, with none of that history weighing us down.”

  “I think we’ve been a lot more out in the open than either one of us would like to think.”

  “Small town gossip will always have its way of finding us,” she warned. She’d made a resolution to no longer get sucked in by it, but that didn’t mean they could avoid it.

  “Well, yes, but it’s not just gossip. Look at this portrait. Even Sammy can see that we’re meant to be together. The other night you said that real love isn’t guided by jealousy and jumping to conclusions. But it also isn’t avoiding each other and leaving things unsaid. And who says that we need to continue to let those things guide us? Why can’t we have a love that’s guided by a mutual respect for each other’s strengths and a shared joy in giving back to our community?”

  He looked at Sammy, and then turned back to Hannah and gently touched her cheek. “Why shouldn’t we have a love based on our desire to paint our family portrait the way we want it to look?”

  A ripple of longing spread through her. Hannah knew there were other people around them, but it felt as if they were the only two in the room. “Santa Baby” was playing somewhere in the background, but she could only hear Isaac’s words. Pine branches and nutmeg and spiced cider surrounded them, but all she could smell was his aftershave—the same one he used to wear when they were young. She realized that it no longer mattered where they had this conversation, as long as they had it. Finally.

  “Are you saying that you want to love me? To paint a family portrait with me?”

  “Hannah, I do love you. I loved you way back then and I’ve had ten years now to realize that I never stopped. In fact, I probably love you even more right now because I already know what it’s like to lose you. And, God help me, I don’t want to lose you again.”

  “What about Sammy?” She knew Isaac cared about the boy, but her son needed stable, long-lasting influences in his life.

  “Are you kidding?” Isaac’s smile was huge. “I didn’t need more than ten days to know that I don’t want to lose him, either.”

  Her heart did somersaults and she used her chin to gesture toward where the dog was lapping up water from the tree stand. “And Big Dot?”

  “I especially don’t want to lose her. She’s the only candidate for fire dog we have.”

  Hannah laughed. “I love you, too, Isaac Jones. You frustrate me and distract me and out-volunteer me every chance you get. But now that you’re back in my life, I couldn’t imagine it without you.”

  He smiled and leaned in as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “They’re kissing,” Sammy yelled. “And we didn’t even need the mistletoe, you guys!”

  A loud cheer went up and Hannah knew that everyone had finally found their peace.

  * * *

  Look for the next book in

  Christy Jeffries’s miniseries Sugar Falls, Idaho,

  The SEAL’s Secret Daughter.

  Available March 2019, wherever

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  A Daddy by Christmas

  by Teri Wilson

  Chapter One

  The puppy was the last straw.

  Chloe Wilde’s bad luck streak kicked off a little over a week ago while performing with the Rockettes during the annual Thanksgiving Day parade. She’d taken a tumble and accidentally ruined the dance troupe’s legendary toy soldier routine on live television. Things had progressed from bad to worse ever since, and now, just twenty-four days before Christmas, she’d reached rock bottom.

  “I don’t understand.” One of the sequined antlers on Chloe’s glittering derby hat drooped into her line of vision and she pushed it away, aiming her fiercest glower at the woman who’d just given her the bad news. Not that glowering while dressed as a high-kicking reindeer was an easy task. It wasn’t, but after everything Chloe had been through lately, she excelled at it. “I’ve been visiting this puppy every day for twelve days. I filled out an adoption application a week ago, and you yourself called me last night and told me I’d been approved.”

  That phone call had been the first good thing that had happened to her in days. Weeks, if she was really being honest with herself. But that was okay, because starting today, she wouldn’t have to face the worst Christmas of her adult life by herself. She’d have a snuggly, adorable puppy by her side.