A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances

by Melinda Curtis

  But that train had been the one toy Jax had chosen to keep the day Quinn had to give all their possessions to a resale shop for cash that was a painful fraction of its worth.

  “I don’t know, bud.” Man, he hated lying and giving him false hope as much as he hated killing the moment. The kid deserved to feel like a kid—safe, carefree and at home—even if it only lasted a matter of days. Quinn grinned and snatched the train, running it along the mantel then through the air, just out of Jax’s reach. “Uh, oh, missed again!”

  Jax leapt off the couch that had been covered with a bed sheet. Judging from the dust motes that danced in the beam of sunlight behind him, the sheet had only done half its job.

  “I can get it!” Jax squealed, chasing the train with no intention of giving up or caring that he was at the mercy of his dad’s height, plus arm length. He jumped onto Quinn’s back and tried to get the train. Quinn laughed then winced when Jax’s miss had him grabbing a fistful of Quinn’s hair for balance. He tossed the train onto the couch then monkey-flipped Jax over his shoulder and let him wiggle upside-down.

  “I got you, buddy-boy,” Quinn said, soaking in Jax’s out-of-control giggles. They hadn’t shared a moment like this since before Quinn had failed to hold on to the life he’d built for the two of them. Being able to let go, even for a few seconds, felt unreal…intangible and ephemeral…like the faeries and dragons in the imaginary worlds Jax liked to lose himself in. They’d left all those favorite picture books and kid movies behind, but Quinn had no doubt they were just as alive in that little six-year-old head of his.

  “Put me down!” Jax hiccupped and stretched his fingers towards the floor planks.

  Quinn held him just out of reach of the train and then over the last gingerbread cookie on the coffee table.

  “I don’t know, King Jax. You might charge me with treason if I set you free.”

  “You treasonous—cookie!” Jax missed another swipe at the gingerbread.

  The sound of the solid oak door creaking on its hinges had Quinn flipping Jax onto his feet. Both stared at Lia standing in the doorway like a snow fairy, her hair sparkling around her face with backlit sun. Her gaze flicked towards Quinn’s bare chest and she bit her lower lip.

  “What’s a treasonous cookie?”

  ~*~

  Lia closed her eyes just long enough to own the fact that there was no way Quinn Weston was going to think the heat rising in her cheeks had anything to do with log he had burning in the fireplace or the cold outside or her lame attempt at distraction. Treasonous cookie? Had she really asked that? She cleared her throat and nudged the door closed with her heel before setting Storm’s carrier and another bag of supplies down.

  “I’m sorry. I did try knocking.”

  “No problem. We were just um—” Quinn ran his fingers through his tousled dark brown waves and reached for an undershirt off his makeshift clothes line. Lia made an effort to turn her attention to the kid as Quinn stretched his shirt across his lean muscles.

  “Ha! I win!” Jax said, stuffing the cookie in his mouth, snatching the train and stealing a defensive position behind a chair. “Are you the cookie lady?” he asked before swallowing.

  “Actually,” Lia said, as she set Storm free, “my mom is the cookie lady and they’re really edible tree ornaments…at least until she sprays them with acrylic.”

  “Cool. Are we getting a Christmas tree? Will she make more cookies for it?”

  “Jax,” Quinn interrupted. “Remember what we talked about? We’re not getting a tree this year because we have…a lot of traveling to do…and it’s not polite to ask for more cookies. This is Miss Lia. The cabin is hers.”

  Jax wiped the crumbs off his mouth with his bare arm then slipped on the shirt his dad tossed to him.

  “Sorry, Miss Lia. I thought this place was my great-granddaddy’s.” He plopped onto the floor, crossing his legs and letting Storm sniff his knee. The kid was a sport, but there was no mistaking the way his shoulders slouched. So she wasn’t the only one not planning on the expense of a tree this year. Another indication of just how bad their situation was.

  “Don’t be sorry. This place was his when he worked here. And my mom always makes more. As for a tree, I usually dig a young one up from the local tree farm and then transplant it here on my property so it can give wild birds food and shelter. I love spotting nests in them come spring. I think this year I may pick one from right around here.”

  She didn’t have a choice if she was going to penny pinch.

  “Can I help pick it?” Jax asked, wrapping his arms around Storm, who to her surprise, didn’t resist. Hmmm. Kindred spirits.

  Lia looked up at Quinn, unsure of how to answer. She hadn’t even thought about how long they’d be here or how long she could handle sleeping at Holly Haven. He looked right at her and pressed his lips together before answering.

  “We’ll see. First, why don’t you help your dad with some work around here?”

  “Really? Can I use a saw?”

  “How about you stick with a hammer?”

  “Fine,” Jax sighed and shook his head. He brought his nose right up to Storm’s and lowered his voice. “He needs more time to figure out I can handle a saw. Grown-ups worry too much.”

  Lia stifled a laugh and set a paper bag down on the kitchen table. Quinn’s little boy was too cute. God help her, his dad was cute too, in a totally different way. No matter how hard he tried masking it, there was a vulnerability about him that she couldn’t turn away from. She opened up the bag and pulled out grilled cheese sandwiches and pickles from Posey’s retro diner. Posey had bagged them herself, commenting on how it was a lot of food for one. Lia told her she had a busy few days at the shelter and wanted leftovers for snacking. Posey simply smiled and nodded, her beehive do staying miraculously balanced on her head. Lia had the feeling everyone in town knew about her guests already. Which meant—

  Her cell phone jingled. She was psychic. She glanced at Quinn who was taking down the clothes line. His back stiffened at the sound of her phone. Deputy Vale’s visit must have really bothered him, but she’d done what anyone in her position would have.

  “Hi Mom.” She scratched her forehead as if it would help unscramble her pending explanation regarding giving up her place at Mrs. B’s.

  “Lia, what’s going on? I was shopping this morning and ran into Mrs. B.”

  “It’s simple, Mom. Amy is planning to move away and I think one of us should be staying on Two Sticks property. You know I need to be close to Holly Haven, especially if we get more babies this spring in need of ’round-the-clock care and the old cabin is closer than the main farmhouse.”

  “But are you sure everything is okay? I heard something about the old cabin getting broken into. Honey it’s not safe for a single woman to—”

  “I’m totally safe, Mom.” She studied Quinn who was now sitting on the couch with his elbows propped on his thighs. He stared into the fire but was no doubt taking in every word she said. She turned her back on him and looked outside the sink window at the pristine woods. A pile of snow slid off a branch and puffed against the white ground. “The cabin wasn’t broken into. Mr. Weston’s grandson stopped by for a visit. He brought his son to Christmas Town for the holidays and is helping me with a few repairs. That’s all there is to whatever rumors you’re hearing.”

  Lia hoped that Deputy Vale had kept most of his notes to himself, as she’d requested.

  “Oh. Okay. Well, then. I’ll stop worrying and get back to work. I’m a bit busy right now, but I’ll drop by sometime to check on you.” Work meant tons of dictation for Pastor Eli, who, unknown to most until recently, wrote a popular mystery series under a pen name.

  “I’ll be at the shelter,” Lia said, not wanting her mom to show up at the cabin. “Talk to you later. Gotta run.”

  She disconnected and squeezed her eyes shut. Things would sort themselves out. Lia believed everything happened for a reason. She’d been worried about financing her rescue
work and life in general, only to find someone who she suspected had lost a lot more than she had. She opened her eyes and set her cell down.

  “You run a shelter?” Quinn’s deep voice startled her. She spun around. He stood less than two feet away, but it felt like two inches. The brown of his eyes seemed richer than when she first saw him. Or maybe it was the reflection of the cabin walls. Or maybe she was losing her mind. Whatever it was, she’d just discovered a new meaning for the term cabin fever.

  “Shelter? Oh, yes, the shelter,” she said, turning back to the sink to get her bearings. She resumed unpacking the food she’d brought. “I have a place just down the path where I own a wildlife rescue and rehab center. It’s really not just wildlife. I’ve had dogs and cats from time to time. It’s a small town, so I take in any species in need. If they’re the pet kind, I try and find the best home I can for them. There’s a pet supply shop in town, Pawsitively Merry, that helps by hosting orphaned kittens for potential adopters to meet.”

  He exhaled and stepped away, then nodded towards the sandwiches.

  “You didn’t have to bring more food. I would have gone into town to find something. I’ll pay you back.” Something in the way he rubbed nervously at his pocket told her he couldn’t really pay her back. At least not any time soon.

  “There’s no need. Besides, you agreed to help make this place more livable for me, right? Room and food for labor that’ll have you out in the cold some of the time. Fair trade if you ask me.”

  He nodded once and tucked his fingers into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Thank you. Grilled cheese happens to be Jax’s favorite.”

  “It was mine growing up, too.” It was also the most affordable item on the menu, but she kept that to herself. “Hey, Jax. How about sitting here to eat while I open a can of food for Storm so he doesn’t feel left out?”

  The sound of the can popping open had Storm running into the kitchen area. Jax followed suit and took a big bite out of his sandwich without any coaxing. Quinn had each of his eaten in two bites. Lia wasn’t that hungry. She really needed to get back to work, but she wanted to go over the supplies she’d hauled up with the help of the snowmobile and sled. Truth be told, half the stuff she needed done, she’d planned to do a little at a time on her own. A girl learned how to be handy growing up on a farm and working with wildlife. But the drain and defeat in Quinn’s eyes when he had looked towards his sleeping son last night told her he needed a reason to spend more than one night in her cabin.

  “Jax, why don’t you stay inside and play with Storm. He’s an indoor cat, so be careful not to let him out, okay?”

  “Got it,” Jax said, wiping the grilled cheese grease off his fingers using his shirt. “This is really good.”

  “I’ll take you to Posey’s some time to get more. She has an elf named Elmer that hides around the diner for kids to find. And if you do, you get a treat.”

  “Cool!”

  “Can you come outside a minute?” she asked Quinn.

  It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the sunlight reflecting off the snow in the clearing. Another hour or so and a blanket of soothing shade would be cast across the area. She’d noticed when she arrived that the path to the front door had been shoveled.

  “Thank you for this,” she said, waving a hand at the cleared area as she walked towards the sled.

  “No problem. I found a shovel in the closet by the door. Figured I’d use it.”

  “I noticed you’d cleaned up quite a bit inside too. You don’t like to sit still, do you?” She smiled over her shoulder and was rewarded with one in return.

  “Guess not. I’m used to working with my hands.”

  “Woodwork, right? Deputy Vale had mentioned your business going under?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, I had these scraps of wood down at the shelter, leftover from an aviary project, and there are more spare beams in the shed behind the cabin.”

  Quinn frowned and looked behind him. Lia pulled her knit hat out of her coat pocket, put it on and crossed her arms.

  “I thought you used to live here with your grandfather,” she said. Quinn turned towards her.

  “I did. For awhile.”

  “I would think that you’d remember more about this place. Your grandfather’s shed? Hidden by those Norway Spruces?” It was true that the shed wasn’t in plain sight. Its location, according to Mr. Weston, had been for safety. If things like gas cans were going to be stored, he didn’t want them next to the cabin. Quinn scrubbed at his jaw and looked back towards the copse of spruces.

  “Now I remember,” Quinn said. “It was so long ago and I only spent two years here. I remembered helping him work on the farm, not here. I used to stop there after school. We didn’t get back here until late and I usually ate, did homework and crashed. I was a teenager,” he said, cocking his head, as if that explained it all. Lia smiled. Being a teenager explained away a lot of things for most folks. “I didn’t like being here,” he continued, scanning the tree tops. “Move a teen to a lifestyle he’s not used to—right after he’s lost his parents. You can imagine I wasn’t all that focused. I couldn’t wait to head off to college and back to the city.”

  “I can imagine. But I guess something about life here stuck with you. You went into woodwork. Your granddad worked with wood. His equipment is still sitting in that shed. And now you’re here,” Lia said. “Life comes full circle.”

  “I guess,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “How about showing me what you’d like done?”

  “I will. But first, I want the truth. Why are you really here? If you didn’t like it here as a teen, why return now? And why come with nothing but the shirt on your back? I want to help, Quinn, but tell me what’s really going on so I know what to do.”

  Quinn started back for the cabin, holding his hands up like he’d had enough.

  “We’re visiting and that’s all there is to it. I don’t need help, Lia. I get that you’re into rescuing and all that, but my son and I aren’t one of your projects. I agreed to put our vacation on hold to help out around here, but if you can’t handle help without reading into things, then we’ll be on our way.”

  Darned male pride.

  “Quinn, wait!” Lia ran up in front of him and grabbed his arms. “Quinn, please trust me. How long have you and Jax been homeless?”

  Chapter 4

  Quinn didn’t want anyone’s pity. Especially not Lia’s.

  Other than faint memories, he’d known her less than twenty-four hours, but that was all it took to know she had a genuine, kind heart with an inside-and-out beauty he’d never tire of. Lia was the kind of woman he should’ve married the first time around. The kind of woman who wouldn’t have turned her back on her newborn son. The kind who wouldn’t have left him when it became clear he’d never have an overflowing bank account. Lia Logan was the last woman on earth he wanted seeing him as a failure.

  If only he hadn’t been confused and determined to chase after a life that seemed bigger and brighter than what his grandfather had offered him years ago. Lights had this tendency to burn out sooner or later. He knew that now.

  “What makes you think I’m homeless? I come off as that pathetic to you?” He shrugged away her hands, but immediately wished they were wrapped around him with her warmth and that foreign feeling of not being alone.

  “Come on,” she said. “I look at you and see a hard-working, loving, caring father who’d do whatever it takes to raise his son. I have no doubt you’re a strong man, Quinn Weston. Not having a home doesn’t make you pathetic or lazy or less of a human being. It makes you someone who has had some bad luck and is need of a second chance at life. Pathetic would be someone who is given a chance and doesn’t take it.”

  She reached out and took his gloved hands in hers and held them against her chest. This time, he didn’t pull away.

  “No one has to know. I have your back. I brought a couple of clothing items from storage at the
farm house. A few are unisex, from when I was little. Mom kept them because of sentimental value. I think she hoped her grandkids would use them someday. I think they’ll fit Jax. And there are a few things that were my dad’s. They may be a little short in the sleeves, but you could roll them up. As far as anyone is concerned, your luggage was lost while traveling. It happens.”

  Quinn swallowed hard. No one had ever had his back before. No one other than his grandfather when he was alive. But he was used to being on his own and that meant thinking ahead and being realistic. He’d been burned enough times, the last from believing that people—his customers—would see the value in his hand-made work over the mass-produced, cheaper stuff. But people flocked to big names, just as Jax’s mother had.

  “What happens when the work you need done around here is finished and you need the cabin for yourself?” he asked. She couldn’t pay him. She’d said so herself. That meant when it came time to leave, he and Jax would be back at square one.

  “Let’s deal with that when the time comes.” She let go of his hands and stuffed hers into her down pockets. The tip of her nose was pink and she licked her lips. He had the urge to kiss her and the good sense not to. He was overcome with gratitude. That’s all it was. Having that undeniable connection at first sight only happened in the movies. Acting on it in real life led to mistakes. Been there, done that.

  “How about we deal with it now?” he said. “From the looks of things last night, you were planning to stay here, which means, we’ve taken your bed.”

  “True. But I stayed at my shelter last night. It has a back room with a cot and shower. I’ll manage.”

  Quinn laughed and shook his head.

  “What’s so funny?” Lia narrowed her eyes.

  “Nothing. Call it lack of sleep, but the image of you staying the night in a barn full of animals, minus the manger and wise men, popped into my head out of nowhere. Lia Logan, are you homeless?”