Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6)

by Lorraine Beatty

  “Everyone seems to be doing that but me.”

  Gemma slipped her small hand in his, infusing him with strength and confidence.

  “You will. Give it some time. You have your family. Whether they are here beside you or not, you know they love you. More important, the Lord loves you. Remember, He lost His earthly father, too. He understands your pain. I haven’t lost a parent, but you can always come and talk to me.”

  Her invitation swelled his chest. He longed to pull her close and share every moment of his life with her. The thought sobered him instantly. He wasn’t ready to be rebuffed again so soon. His gaze landed on the crooked tree. He pushed off the sofa and stooped down. “This won’t take but a minute. Let me know when it’s straight.”

  “Okay.”

  Linc stretched out on his stomach, unscrewed one of the bracing pins, using his other hand to ease the truck back an inch or so.

  “That’s it. Perfect.”

  He scooted out, rolled over and got to his feet. Gemma was grinning. She reached up and brushed his hair, dislodging pine needles. Her touch sent a high-voltage charge through his body. He couldn’t deny his feelings anymore. Gemma was the woman he wanted to spend his life with. He felt at home here, with her. He reached out and touched her cheek. “Gemma, I—” Her eyes softened and she leaned toward him. Memory of the fear he’d seen the last time he kissed her washed through him like ice water. He was getting ahead of himself. Time to step away. “I’d better go.”

  At the door he glanced at the tree again, smiling at the inspired idea that had just come to him. “I know where you can get some ornaments free of charge.”

  “Where?”

  “The ones my mom didn’t use this year. I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

  Gemma smiled up at him. “Why don’t you help us decorate? We need a tall person. I’ll make chili. I think it’s going to turn cold again tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Linc whistled softly as he walked back to the main house. An urge to jump up and click his heels together washed over him, but he probably would end up in an inglorious heap on the ground.

  He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

  *

  Gemma cradled her mug of cocoa the next evening, watching the silly shenanigans taking place in her living room. Linc and Evan were testing the strings of lights for the tree, but somewhere along the way, Evan had decided decorating his coach with lights would be fun, and had wrapped a string of lights around Linc’s neck and across his chest, which had unleashed a fit of giggles in her son. The camaraderie between the two was a sight to behold. The sound of Linc’s laughter, deep and full, brought a strange rush of tenderness to her heart. He was always so serious—seeing him relaxed and happy pulled her heart closer to that cliff edge.

  “Call me crazy, but I thought the lights were supposed to be on the tree.”

  The guys’ laughter died away. Linc unwrapped the string of lights. “Your mom’s right. We need to get these on the tree or I’ll be here forever.”

  The idea sounded good to her. Having Linc with them felt right.

  Linc, devoid of lights, smiled over at her. “Are you picky about how the lights are placed on the tree?”

  “No. And considering how impatient my son is, I think the toss-up method would be best. I’ll clean up in the kitchen while you do that, and then help you with the ornaments.”

  When she returned to the living room, the lights were twinkling and Evan was happily hanging ornaments from the box Linc had brought. Curious about the type of ornaments the Montgomerys normally used, she lifted one from the box. It was a silver laser-cut Christmas tree made from thin metal material. Linc had explained that each of the five children picked a special ornament each year. She couldn’t imagine Linc choosing such a delicate item so she guessed this belonged to one of his sisters.

  Peering into the box, she was eager to know each and every ornament Linc had chosen since he was a child. She walked to the tree and hung the delicate ornament on a limb near the top. “Which sister picked this ornament?”

  Linc glanced at the silver tree. “Victoria. Bethany liked the old-fashioned glass ornaments. The bigger the better. Tori liked the small delicate ones.”

  “Which ones are yours?” She pulled a colorful antique sports car out of the box. “The symbol of independence and coolness?”

  “You think I’m cool? Actually, that’s Gil’s. He loved cars and trains.” He lifted a small squirrel holding a decorated acorn. “Seth liked the rustic outdoors ornaments.”

  Gemma searched the contents of the box, trying to decide what kind of ornament Linc would choose each Christmas.

  “Can’t figure it out? You’re slipping.”

  “I will.” She peered into the box again, but the only other options didn’t fit the confident, masculine man beside her. She had no idea what kind of ornament he would favor.

  “Look for anything with a ball or a bat.”

  Linc reached in and pulled out one wrapped in tissue. When he removed the paper it revealed a small praying Santa ornament. “This one’s mine. Surprised?”

  Gemma touched it lightly with one finger. “Not really. I know faith is very important to the Montgomery family. That’s one tradition we have in common.”

  “Good to know. It’s the most important.”

  Bored with hanging ornaments, Evan drifted off to his room, leaving her and Linc to finish up. She selected a small football ornament decorated with a sprig of holly that Linc had claimed was part of his collection. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why haven’t you married? You are obviously a family man. Good with kids. Strong in your faith.”

  “I’ve come close. I was engaged once, but we wanted different things. It wouldn’t have worked. I’m a one-and-done kind of guy. I want to know it’s the right one before I tie the knot.”

  “Is that even possible these days?”

  “I believe it is. I take it you don’t?”

  How could she answer that without getting into her reasons for being alone? “I believe it can happen. I’m just not sure it will for me.”

  “The trust thing, right?”

  Gemma kept her focus on the tree. He’d remembered her comment. What would he say if she told him her story? “It’s different for a single mom. I have Evan to think about.”

  “I never thought about that.” He hung a Saints fleur-de-lis ornament on a branch. “I want what my parents had. I’ll know it when I find it.”

  “Then you’ll build that house on your land and live happily ever after?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Gemma tore her gaze from Linc’s and hung the last ornament, an oddly shaped papier-mâché star, in the last bare spot. She smiled at the childish design, wondering which of the Montgomery children had made it.

  “I did.”

  She jerked to face him. He was reading her mind again.

  “I was in third grade and I hated art class. But my mom had been sick that year and I wanted to give her something special, so I dredged up every bit of creativity I could find and that was the result. Pretty pitiful, huh?”

  “No. It’s beautiful, and I’m sure Francie thought so, too.”

  Linc tapped the star with one finger, setting it swinging on the branch. “She must have. It’s still in the box. So how did we do? Are you happy with the tree?”

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you for the decorations and the help. And for including Evan in everything.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I love that kid. His mom is pretty special, too.”

  “How about you—do you like the tree? Is it the kind you like?”

  “It’s perfect. It’s what we’ve always had.” He smiled. “Now it’s Christmas.”

  “The tree isn’t Christmas, Linc. The people are.”

  Linc faced her, cupping her face in one hand. “You are such a contradiction. You want all the glitz and flash of the holiday, but you never for
get the real meaning of it, either. This year has been hard. I can’t seem to find a solid place to stand. Except when I’m with you. Then everything becomes clear.”

  He tilted her chin upward and placed a light kiss on her lips. Her senses blurred into a warm, dreamy fog. She leaned into him, her hand pressed against his solid chest, only to draw back when she heard Evan call out.

  “Tell Coach I said goodbye.”

  She smiled and glanced at Linc. “Bye, Coach.”

  “Yeah.” He picked up the ornament boxes. “I’ll take these back to the house. Thanks for letting me help with the tree.”

  “Are you still upset with your mom for decorating your tree differently?”

  “No. It’s growing on me. Now that I know it’s what Dad always wanted, it’s made me take a new look at some of the assumptions I had. Dad always wanted to make us happy. I don’t think I ever considered that he might have set his own preferences aside.”

  “He loved you so much he wanted what you wanted. That made him happy.”

  “I guess so. Good night, Gemma.”

  Gemma shut the door, reliving the moment when he’d kissed her. Each time she was near him she took a step closer to the cliff edge. Tonight her toes were hanging over and she was leaning precariously over the rim. She’d avoided any romantic entanglements since Evan was born. It was simpler that way. No questions, no accusations, no condemnation. But Linc was changing all of her ideas and easing her fears. She was falling for him and starting to think of a different future for her and Evan. Linc made her smile. He made her happy. He made her believe.

  She gazed at the beautiful tree they had decorated together. Tonight had been one of the happiest in her life. They’d been a family—sharing a meal, putting up the tree. She hadn’t wanted it to end. Fixing another cup of hot chocolate, Gemma curled up on the sofa, her gaze going to the paper star and trying to imagine a boy making a star for his mother.

  The opening measures of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” interrupted her pleasant moment. The name displayed on the screen shattered her peace. Her mother. When she hung up a few moments later, all her joy in the evening was gone.

  Her parents were coming to visit.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gemma toyed with the beads around her neck, trying to keep her fingers from shaking. This was absolutely the longest day of her life and it was only Saturday. She had another day to survive.

  Her parents had arrived midmorning at the Lady Banks Inn in Dover. Gemma had suggested a tour of Dover’s charming downtown with the futile hope of impressing them with the decorations. They’d barely walked the length of the park before declaring they were tired and returning to the inn to rest before dinner with the Montgomerys that evening.

  She’d been relieved. It was the third weekend, when all the events were geared to the children, and while she didn’t have any major Chamber functions to oversee, she needed to make sure everything stayed on track.

  Gemma sucked in a breath, but it refused to fully expand her lungs. Now she was in the middle of her worst nightmare. She stole a quick glance at her parents seated near the end of the Montgomery dining table. Her father, as usual, sat sullen and indifferent, ignoring the world around him. So far the conversation had been polite, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before her mother started voicing her opinions. Thankfully, Gemma had maneuvered things so Evan was seated beside Francie at the other end of the long table and not his grandmother.

  Focusing her eyes on her plate, she moved the food around with her fork. Eating was impossible. Giving up, she clasped her hands tightly in her lap. Every nerve in her body screamed to take Evan and run to the cottage and hide until her parents left. A childish impulse, but she couldn’t even face Francie right now, and she wished Linc wasn’t sitting next to her. Please, Lord, give me strength to get through this. Her parents would be leaving tomorrow afternoon. All she had to do was hang on.

  “I’m curious, Mrs. Montgomery, what prompted you to offer my daughter a job decorating your little village? It seems such a menial task for someone with her intellect.”

  Here it comes. Gemma’s insides plummeted to the pit of her stomach. Every inch of her skin burned with humiliation. She clasped her hands together in her lap until they grew cold from lack of blood flow. If only she could make herself invisible.

  Francie gave her mother a gracious smile. “I agree. Your daughter is very bright, but she’s also very talented. She helped me with a project at the shop and I was impressed with her creativity. I knew she was the perfect person to take over my role as Christmas chairman.”

  Arlene Butler took a tiny bite of her roast and nodded. “That was very thoughtful of you, but her father and I believe she’s capable of much more. Beatrice has recently earned her doctorate in behavioral psychology. We’re very proud of her accomplishments.”

  Francie smiled warmly at Beatrice. “Congratulations.”

  Gemma glanced at her sister, who’d been silent throughout the meal. Beatrice looked years older, sad and lacking any spark. The realization chilled her blood. Was that what she looked like? Gemma straightened her spine and attempted to square her shoulders. She refused to let her parents do that to her.

  “We still have hopes that Gemma will outgrow this hobby of hers and start another business. One that will succeed this time.”

  “I believe failure is often the way we learn. My father-in-law failed twice starting Montgomery Electrical. Now we’re one of the largest contractors in the South.”

  Arlene took a sip of her water. “But yours is a legitimate business. Not a hobby.”

  Gemma spoke without thinking. “It’s not a hobby, Mother. It’s my career.”

  “A career that failed because of your poor judgment when it comes to people and your insistence on pursuing a frivolous occupation. How can you make a name for yourself putting together parties?”

  “I like my job. It makes me happy. I make others happy. I create memories for them to cherish forever.” Inwardly she cringed at how weak and pathetic her voice sounded. Worse still, her comment would only send her mother off on another tirade.

  “Honestly, Gemma, what possible good can you do by putting up lights. And in a town this size? There are dozens of companies that could use your abilities. At least there you could be making a difference.”

  Her mother’s criticisms were always spoken in a soft, gentle tone, but that didn’t lesson the sting. Gemma knew exactly what she was saying. She wasn’t good enough. She pressed her hands to her stomach, hoping to quell the churning inside.

  She was vaguely aware of Linc shifting in his chair beside her. She started when he spoke. His deep voice commanded attention.

  “Gemma has made a difference, Mrs. Butler. In fact, Gemma has worked wonders in the short time she was given. She’s organized four spectacular events with little more than her imagination and enthusiasm. Her ideas have transformed this town and the way it sees itself for the holidays. I was a skeptic, but she’s even won me over. Your daughter has a special gift. A God-given talent, and she’s used it to keep Dover thriving. The world may not take notice of what she’s done here, but I believe working at the grassroots level is the most important kind of help a person can do.”

  Gemma sat stunned at Linc’s passionate defense. She slanted her gaze in his direction. The muscle in his jaw flexed, and he rubbed the thumb and forefinger of his left hand together, which she’d learned meant he was upset.

  She managed a smile to let him know how grateful she was for his defense. He lowered his hand beneath the table, reached over and squeezed her fingers. She grasped his strong hand with both of hers, holding on for dear life.

  Francie skillfully steered the conversation in a different direction, asking questions that would afford her parents the opportunity to talk about themselves. Something they loved to do.

  After what seemed like an eternity, they announced it was time to leave.

  Francie and Linc exchanged pleasantries with her parents
, then moved off, leaving her alone with her family. Gemma followed them onto the front porch, eager to say her goodbyes and send them on their way. The forlorn look on her sister’s face brought a swell of compassion into her heart. Linc’s support gave her the courage to offer her parents an invitation.

  “Evan and I are going to church in the morning. We’d love to have you join us.”

  Her father shook his head. “No interest in that nonsense. We’ll see you before we leave.”

  Gemma knew they would refuse to come, but she’d held out a faint hope.

  “I’d like to go with you.”

  The soft voice jerked Gemma’s head around. Beatrice was looking at her with hope in her eyes.

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  Gemma pulled her sister into a tight hug. “Of course not. We’ll pick you up. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  She bit her lip, the lightness in her chest warming her entire body. Was her sister searching for faith? She prayed she was. She’d watched her today, quiet, submissive, cowed. As if looking into a mirror of what she would have become if she hadn’t fought for her own life. Maybe she could lead her sister to the Lord and give her a chance at a new life, too.

  “Beatrice. Please get into the car.”

  Gemma stiffened when her mother approached.

  “Your father and I have decided that once you finish this obligation you should come home. We will settle all your outstanding debts and set you up in a business of your own. It’s not too late to take the CPA exam and start a real career.”

  A refusal was on the tip of her tongue. She’d been here before, trying to explain her position, and it always ended in an argument. It was pointless. She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s very generous.”

  Her mother nodded in approval, her triumphant smile an arrow aimed at Gemma’s heart. It bounced harmlessly off her newfound strength. She didn’t wait for them to drive off. She turned around and nearly bumped into Linc. He was frowning again, staring at her with questions in his eyes. Was he feeling sorry for her? Or was he wondering about her mother’s comments? Whichever, she wasn’t ready to discuss her parents. She forced a smile. “Thank goodness they’re gone.”