The Christmas Stranger

by Beth Cornelison

  “Holly, I brought in some firewood. It’s getting cold out there, and I thought—” Matt stopped midsentence when he entered the room and spotted Robert.

  Robert folded his arms across his chest and narrowed a glare on Matt. “Well, speak of the devil.”

  Matt took one look at Holly’s reddened eyes and stricken expression, and his heart clenched. “Holly, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  All forms of disaster and tragedy whirled through his mind, but as soon as he glimpsed the accusation burning in Robert’s eyes, Matt knew all he needed. Her brother-in-law had learned his true identity, made the connection to Ryan and shared his deception with Holly.

  His heart sank, and self-reproach sawed in his gut. He’d had his chance to tell her the truth and foolishly postponed the inevitable.

  Moving stiffly, he laid the split logs in the fireplace and dusted off his hands. When he faced the room again, both Holly and her brother-in-law stared at him silently. Robert’s expression was contemptuous. Holly’s face reflected deep hurt and betrayal.

  With guilt and regret settling like rocks in his chest, Matt took a slow, deep breath. “Holly, I’m sorry. I’d planned to tell you, but—”

  “Robert, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to go now.” She spoke to her brother-in-law, but her eyes held Matt’s. The pain and questions filling her gaze gouged his soul.

  “Actually, I do mind. I have a few questions for Randall.”

  Holly snapped a piercing, pleading gaze toward Robert. “Later. I want to talk to Matt first.” When her brother-in-law still didn’t move, she added, “Alone.”

  Robert shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She drew herself up, her petite frame rigid. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Then softening her tone, she whispered, “Please. Just leave.”

  Taking his beer from the coffee table, Robert drank deeply and divided a weighty, distrusting stare between Matt and Holly. When the bottle was empty, he thunked it down and stalked to the door. “I’ll check in with you later.” He sent Matt a dark scowl before glancing back at Holly. “Be careful.”

  Robert slammed the door behind him, and the bang echoed through the house.

  His heart heavy and guilt pounding in his head, Matt faced Holly. “I can explain. I know it looks bad, but—”

  “Did you kill my husband?” she rasped.

  Her question punched him in the gut like a physical blow. “What! Is that what he told you?”

  “Answer the question!” Her hands fisted at her sides, and her body vibrated with fury. Tears mingled with sparks of anger in her eyes, and her suspicion slashed a deep gash in his soul. Did she really believe he was capable of murder?

  “No.” His tone was firm, resolute. He met her accusing gaze with an unflinching stare.

  Holly squeezed her eyes shut, and two fat tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Matt took a step toward her, needing to touch her, needing to hold her and reassure her. Needing to reestablish the bond they’d shared over the past several days. But she tensed when he moved, and the hot glare she shot him warned him away.

  Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Soon. I—”

  “But not before you’d slept with me first.”

  The bitterness behind her words chafed, sending another arrow of self-reproach to his marrow.

  “I should have told you before we made love. I know that. I intended—”

  “Love?” She barked a mirthless laugh. “How can you use that word when you’ve been lying to me from the very start? You’ve known all along who I was, who Ryan was. Haven’t you?”

  Matt gritted his teeth, knowing she deserved the hard truth and hating the sour taste of it. He’d betrayed her trust and deserved her anger. More than anything, he wanted to avoid hurting Holly, but he’d done exactly that with his evasiveness and silence.

  “I figured it out the day we brought the stained glass home for you.”

  “Is that why you sought me out at the old church? Were you planning some sort of revenge against Ryan through me?”

  “Revenge? No! Of course not. And I didn’t realize who you were until I saw the picture of you and Ryan by your bed when you took me to see the renovations needed in the master bathroom.”

  “But you didn’t say anything then. Why?”

  He huffed his frustration, suddenly bone-tired. “I should have. I know I should have. I’m sorry I didn’t, Holly. But by then I’d promised to help you with your renovations and…honestly, I was still in shock, trying to figure out what I needed to do. I needed the work. I wanted to work for you, but I was afraid if you knew who I was…”

  When he hesitated, she spread her hands. “That I wouldn’t hire you? That I’d believe you were guilty? That I wouldn’t give you a fair chance to tell your side of things?” Her tone was rife with exasperation and hurt.

  “Yes!” he shouted, his own frustration mounting. “I thought you’d judge me the way everyone else has judged me for five years. I thought you’d find me guilty because your husband had, and that I’d lose the friendship you were offering.”

  “So instead you lied to me?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe by omission. But everything I have told you about what happened has been the truth.”

  “How do I know that?” She swiped at a tear that escaped her lashes, and the ache in his heart dug deeper. “How can I believe anything you’ve told me is the truth?”

  For several moments he said nothing, fighting the urge that clawed inside him to pull her into his arms and kiss away the pain in her eyes. But he couldn’t. Because he’d caused the hurt that she was suffering. Because with his deception, he’d broken the gossamer bond of friendship they’d formed.

  Because she didn’t belong to him and never had.

  Finally, dragging in a fortifying breath, he said softly, “If life allowed us do-overs, Holly, there are a lot of things I’d do differently the second time around. I’d be a better husband to Jill. I’d not touch the evidence of Jill’s suicide and incriminate myself.” He paused, stepping closer and meeting her gaze. He tried with his tone, his expression, to convey all the sincerity and conviction that filled his heart. “But at the top of that list would be how I’ve handled things with you. Because the last thing I wanted was to hurt you. You’ve become very special to me. I care about you. Deeply. I hate the fact that my bad decisions have wounded you, have betrayed the trust you had in me. I wish to God I’d told you the truth from the start. But I was a coward.” Her expression softened, and he harbored a hope that he was reaching her. “I saw something in you that I wanted, that I needed in my life. Your faith in me has revived my faith in myself. Your smiles have given me the first real joy I’ve had in years.”

  Suddenly, as if she’d been recalled to her senses, she jerked her chin up, and her eyes grew icy. “And let’s not forget the sex. I’ve given you a few good rolls in the sack.”

  He flinched as if she’d slapped him. “Holly, don’t….” He swallowed the knot of emotion that rose in his throat. “Please don’t diminish what we’ve shared together. That was real. It was honest. It was about two people who cared about each other, and—”

  “It was a mistake,” she grated. “You used me.”

  “No!” he ground through clenched teeth, his voice breaking. “Holly, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my connection to Ryan, but nothing else that has happened between us has been a lie! We have something special. Don’t throw that away.”

  A cool detachment and resignation settled in her expression that worried him far more than her fiery anger and bitter hurt. “I’m not throwing it away. You did.”

  Like a candle snuffed out by an arctic blast, the last glimmer of Matt’s hope that he could fix things with Holly sputtered out. His insides ache with a raw emptiness and chilling loss.

  She aimed a finger at the door, her jaw set and firm. “Get out.”<
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  Turning on his heel, Matt gathered the shreds of his tattered soul and left the farmhouse. But he left his heart with Holly.

  Chapter 12

  Holly dragged through the next couple of days, unable to enjoy anything about the holiday season she usually loved. Every aspect of her Christmas celebrations had been tainted by memories of Matt. The decorations they’d hung together. The music they’d danced to. The cookies and eggnog they’d prepared.

  She felt as if she’d been scraped raw inside. His dishonesty and deception cut a wide swath that wouldn’t heal anytime soon. Because she’d let herself fall in love with Matt. Even the biting truth about his evasion and deceit didn’t dampen the tender affection she’d developed for him. His absence left her hollow and aching. She missed his warm smiles across the breakfast table, the low melody of his voice when he sang in the shower, his reassuring presence when the winter nights loomed cold and empty.

  When Paige called on Sunday night, Holly tried to sound upbeat, despite the heaviness in her heart. She didn’t want Paige or the rest of her family needlessly worrying about her. Her sister and parents had enough to worry about with Zoey’s disappearance.

  “I’ve decided to postpone my wedding,” Paige announced after Holly told her that, no, she still hadn’t heard from Zoey.

  Holly gripped the phone tighter. “Postpone it? Why? For how long?”

  “Indefinitely. I can’t get married without Zoey there. Once we find her and bring her home, I’ll reschedule.”

  She raked her hair back from her eyes, staggered by Paige’s decision. “What did Brent say about waiting?”

  “He’s fine with it. In fact, Dad is thinking of sending Brent overseas to work on a new deal with some European investors. Once that deal is settled and he’s back stateside, we’ll set a new date.” Rather than sounding disappointed about the delay, Paige sounded almost…relieved. “Holly, are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  Blowing out a sigh, she flopped back on her sofa cushions and stared up at her ceiling. She should have expected Paige to pick up on her mood. Her sister was too perceptive, knew her too well.

  “I’ll be all right. Matt didn’t turn out to be the man I’d thought he was. I kicked him out.” Holly explained in vague terms about Matt’s history, the truths he’d withheld from her, and Paige sympathized and consoled her as best she could.

  “If I were there now I’d give you a big bear hug, honey. But, you know, I have to wonder…” Paige paused, and Holly could almost hear the wheels in her logical sister’s brain turning. “Do you really think he kept his connection to Ryan a secret out of malice? Once he knew you well enough to confide in you, he told you everything else, as bleak and painful as the rest of his past was. That shows a special level of trust and faith.”

  Holly scoffed. “If he trusted me so much, then why didn’t he tell me about Ryan prosecuting his case? That’s a pretty important piece of the whole picture.”

  “True. But can you see how difficult, how awkward it would have been for him? Regardless of how you feel about his choice, can you blame him for wanting to build your friendship before dropping that bomb?”

  Holly sat up on the couch, frowning. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, of course. But I’m trying to see his side. Trying to be fair.”

  Good old rational, practical Paige, weighing everything before deciding anything.

  Holly plucked at a loose string on a throw draped over the back of her sofa. Had she overreacted to Matt’s news? Had she let her initial hurt and anger sway her actions unfairly?

  Her pain was still too new to have that perspective yet.

  She caught up with Paige on other news from back home about Bancroft Industries, her parents’ upcoming holiday party and the chat she’d had with their high school pal, Gage Powell, when she called him about Zoey’s disappearance. By the time she hung up, Holly was suffering a bout of homesickness and opted for a warm bubble bath before bed.

  After a long, lonely weekend and a longer, distracted Monday at school, she arrived home the next afternoon to find her front door unlocked and the lights on upstairs. She tensed and racked her brain to remember if Jon had mentioned working on her renovations today. After dumping her purse and coat in the foyer, she walked upstairs with her heart in her throat. She followed the sound of water running, edging toward her master bathroom. “Jon? Is that you?”

  The water cut off, and a tall figure, splattered with paint, stepped through the bathroom door. “Oh, hi. I thought I heard someone.”

  Matt. Not Jon.

  The sweet sight of him made her heart leap, followed quickly by a rush of heat as renewed anger flashed through her blood. “What are you doing here?”

  He leveled his shoulders, his expression open, calm. “You hired me to finish your renovations, so I’m working. I’ve almost finished sponge painting in here if you want to see. I’m not sure this is turning out the way you envisioned.”

  She narrowed a disgruntled glare on him. “The other day, I asked you to leave.”

  His chin lifted, and hurt flashed over his face. “I recall. And I’ve moved my things out of the guest room today. But I made a commitment to you to help you finish the house by Christmas, and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”

  She gaped at him, torn by the emotional tug-of-war inside her. Dedication to his commitments was exactly what she’d have expected from Matt—before Friday when she learned he’d kept her in the dark about such a critical piece of his past.

  She shifted her weight nervously, fighting the tears of relief that stung her eyes. She couldn’t be glad to see him after he’d so blatantly betrayed her trust. “How…how did you get here?”

  “Taxi.”

  She grunted and shook her head. “You can’t take a taxi back and forth from town every day! It’d cost a fortune.”

  He raised a palm. “I’d say that’s my problem. How else am I supposed to get here?”

  She bit her tongue to keep from offering to drive him—or rescind her eviction—even though the lift in his dark eyebrow hinted he thought she might.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I don’t want you coming out here at all.”

  His brow furrowed. “You’re firing me?”

  “I—” She caught herself. Floundered. Sent him a churlish scowl. “I should!”

  The corner of his mouth dared to twitch. “But you’re not.”

  She glared at him, the ache in her chest almost suffocating. “No. But stay out of my way. You can work while I’m at school, and our paths won’t have to cross.”

  Disappointment dimmed his eyes, and he blew out a sigh. “You’re the boss.”

  With that, she should have turned to leave, left him to his task. But she couldn’t make her feet move. When she continued staring at him, knowing all her tangled emotions were written on her face, he motioned to the bathroom.

  “Wanna have a look?”

  Curiosity spurred her to step into the master bath and check his progress. The lacy-looking maroon sponge pattern on her wall exceeded her expectations, and her breath caught.

  Matt winced. “That bad? I knew I was too heavy-handed. Well…I can paint over what I’ve done and start again tomorrow, if you want.”

  “No, it looks great. I—” His shoulder brushed hers in the tight confines, and a tingling heat rushed through her. She stepped away from him, rubbing the goose bumps that rose on her arms.

  “Holly—”

  The husky, intimate pitch of his voice told her she didn’t want to start the conversation he intended.

  She hurried out to the bedroom, pausing only briefly at the door. “When you finish in here, I think you should go. Tomorrow, I’d prefer you finished before I got home from school.”

  But the next day, when she arrived at the farmhouse after an exhausting day with a room full of Christmas-crazed kindergartners, not only was Matt still there, but Jon was with him. She found the men upstairs, removing the old b
athtub in the master bath.

  Jon gave her a nod of acknowledgment when she poked her head around the corner and wiped his hands on the seat of his jeans. “We’re almost finished, and I’ve got to be heading out.” He looked at Matt. “Can you wrap things up here?”

  Holly sent a quick glance to Matt, who looked sexier than he should have with his hair mussed, a smudge of something black on his cheek and a sheen of perspiration on his brow. She didn’t miss the warmth that filled his eyes when he met her gaze, or the flicker of bittersweet longing and remorse in his expression that matched the ache gripping her chest.

  “No problem,” he told Jon.

  Her brother-in-law shoved to his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans. “When I stopped to check on our order today, the guy at the plumbing outlet said the shower unit should arrive by the end of the week.”

  “Good to hear.” She stepped aside as Jon headed out of the bathroom and followed him downstairs, needing distance from Matt in order to collect her thoughts.

  “Any chance you’ll be finished with the shower this weekend?”

  “With any luck.” He gave her a measuring scrutiny. “You gonna be all right here alone with Randall if I go now?”

  Randall. She sighed. “I see you talked to Robert.”

  He shrugged. “Robert said you took the news kinda hard. You holdin’ up, okay?”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I’ve been better, but I’ve also survived worse.”

  Jon scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I knew the first time I saw him that he looked familiar. I recognized him from the newspaper pictures and TV coverage of his trial, but just couldn’t place his face out of context.”

  “Jon, if this is going to be an I-told-you-so lecture, I’m really not in the mood.”

  He held up his hand. “No. No I-told-you-sos. But I don’t understand why you didn’t recognize him. Didn’t the details of his case ring any bells for you?”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Why should they?”