Finding a Christmas Home
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Her chest filled with longing.
What would it be like if this were a family scenario, if they were Mom and Dad and kids, stopping for takeout on the way home from work?
Luke climbed into her small car, juggling the large, flat box to make it fit without encroaching on the gearshift.
Hannah had to laugh at the size of his meal. “Hungry?”
“Are you?” He opened the box a little, and the rich, garlicky fragrance of Pasquale’s special sauce filled the car.
Her stomach growled loudly.
“Pee-zah!” Addie shouted from the back seat.
“Peez!” Emmy added, almost as loud.
“That’s just cruel,” she said as she pulled the car back onto the road and steered toward Luke’s place. “You’re tempting us. I may have to order some when I get these girls home.”
“No, you won’t,” he said. “This is for all of us. The least I can do is feed you after you drove me around.”
Her stomach gave a little leap, and not just at the prospect of pizza. Why was he inviting her to have dinner with him? Was there an ulterior motive? And if there was, would she mind?
Lee Tobin McClain is the New York Times bestselling author of emotional small-town romances featuring flawed characters who find healing through friendship, faith and family. Lee grew up in Ohio and now lives in Western Pennsylvania, where she enjoys hiking with her goofy goldendoodle, visiting writer friends and admiring her daughter’s mastery of the latest TikTok dances. Learn more about her books at www.leetobinmcclain.com.
Books by Lee Tobin McClain
Love Inspired
Rescue Haven
The Secret Christmas Child
Child on His Doorstep
Finding a Christmas Home
Redemption Ranch
The Soldier’s Redemption
The Twins’ Family Christmas
The Nanny’s Secret Baby
Rescue River
Engaged to the Single Mom
His Secret Child
Small-Town Nanny
The Soldier and the Single Mom
The Soldier’s Secret Child
A Family for Easter
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
FINDING A CHRISTMAS HOME
Lee Tobin McClain
Behold, I make all things new.
—Revelation 21:5
To my Wednesday morning writers’ group: your helpful suggestions, positive energy and sense of fun worked wonders on this book, even in the midst of a pandemic. I’m blessed to have you in my life.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from First Kiss at Christmas by Lee Tobin McClain
Chapter One
Hannah Antonicelli walked out of the Rescue Haven Learn-and-Play and flopped down on the bench that ran along the wall of the red barn.
“Cold for sitting outside, isn’t it?” Her friend Gabby wrapped her heavy parka more tightly around herself before sitting beside Hannah. Despite the fact that she and her husband oversaw all Rescue Haven’s programs—the dog rescue, the after-school program for at-risk boys and the childcare center—Gabby always had time to stop and chat.
And Gabby was right: November in rural Ohio wasn’t sit-outside weather. Wind whisked across the neighboring cornfields, rustling the dry, light brown stalks, carrying with it the faint, clean smell of oncoming snow. “I just need a minute before I start with the dogs,” Hannah said.
“Take a minute! Take an hour, or the whole morning off, if you need. It’s a great thing you’re doing, providing a home for Marnie’s girls.”
“The Learn-and-Play is the only possible way I’ll manage, so thank you for accepting the twins on short notice.” And she didn’t want to take advantage of Gabby’s generosity by skimping on her part-time job as the Rescue Haven dog trainer. What with everything that had happened, she’d already taken too much time off. Not to mention the fact that Gabby was pregnant and didn’t need extra stress. “Let me know if they need anything or get upset.”
Caring for her sister’s eighteen-month-old twin girls had been the right thing to do when Marnie had died of complications after a drug overdose two weeks ago. The desperate phone call from her estranged older sister had shaken Hannah’s world at its foundation. She and Mom had rushed to Marnie’s side and instantly agreed to care for the twins they barely knew.
Which meant that, for now, Hannah was back in her childhood home. Mom’s house had plenty of space, a big yard with a tire swing and was close to Rescue Haven.
Anyway, until they got the twins’ lives in order and their schedules figured out, it was going to take two of them to manage things. Being in the same house was just easier.
Mom was busy trying to keep her struggling bakery afloat during hard times. She was also grief-stricken and guilt-ridden over Marnie’s death—not in any shape to be a primary caregiver. Whereas Hannah... Hannah was more angry at her sister than anything else. Marnie had neglected her babies. She’d caused terrible pain to their mother. And she’d entrusted Hannah with a secret that wasn’t going to be easy to keep.
The blond, curly-haired twins had instantly become Hannah’s priority in life. She had to raise them right, and she would. She yawned. The twins hadn’t slept well last night—again—and she was just so tired...
She might have actually dozed off for a few seconds, and when she opened her eyes, she felt like she was dreaming. “Who’s that?” she asked Gabby as she stared at the movie-star-handsome, rugged man striding toward them.
“You don’t recognize him? That’s Luke Hutchenson.”
Hannah’s stomach lurched. “When did he come back to town?”
“Gabby, we need you!” The voice from inside the Learn-and-Play was a little frantic, and the sound of a child crying, then another—neither of them the twins, thankfully—galvanized Gabby into action. “He’ll tell you,” she said, waving to Luke and then rushing into the building.
“Hey, Luke,” Hannah said faintly as the man approached. She still felt a little like she was in a dream.
He tilted his head to one side, and then a slow smile crossed his face. “Hannah Antonicelli?”
That smile. Wow. She nodded and stood, hoping to keep their conversation short. And focused on him. “I haven’t seen you for ages.” Should she shake his hand? She brushed her palm down her jeans and then, when he didn’t initiate a handshake, shoved it in her back pocket. No one else in the universe was as awkward with men as she was.
Well, men she found attractive, anyway.
And why was she finding Luke attractive? He was ten years older than her, or close. And the things she knew about his family could fill a soap-opera script. Of course, that meant he was out of reach, which was the kind of man she generally favored. “Um, are you in town for a visit?”
“Of sorts.” He looked out across the fields for a minute,
then met her eyes. “Dad’s sick. Needs some pretty serious surgery, and there’s no one but me to take care of him, since Bobby...”
She stared, waiting. Had something more happened to Bobby?
Bobby. A big flirt, cute and fun. Always in trouble, and now, in jail for second-degree murder.
Bobby, the twins’ father. And no one could ever know.
Luke cleared his throat. “You might not have heard, but Bobby’s incarcerated.”
“I, uh, I did hear.” And she hadn’t really thought about how that would feel to his family, but now, seeing Luke’s clenched jaw, she realized how painful Bobby’s situation must be to him. Bobby had been part of a convenience-store robbery that had resulted in a killing. From what she’d heard, he’d gotten belligerent and refused a plea bargain, so there was no telling when he’d get out.
She touched Luke’s arm. “I’m sorry. That must be tough.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Thanks. So how about you? What are you doing at Rescue Haven?”
It was an obvious move to change the subject, which was fine with Hannah, mostly. “I’m the dog trainer here,” she said. “I have other clients, too, but Rescue Haven takes up more and more of my time. They’re expanding, taking in more dogs.”
“You always did love animals,” he said. “I remember you playing with Old Man Richie’s barn kittens.”
His words brought back a flash of memory. She’d been young, probably six, and she’d tagged after Marnie to Mr. Richie’s barn. Marnie and her friends had promptly climbed up to the hayloft to smoke cigarettes, leaving Hannah to the glorious bounty of a half-dozen kittens, no more than a week old.
Luke and Mr. Richie had burst into the barn at the same time. Mr. Richie had seen her just as he’d smelled the cigarette smoke, and he’d yelled in a scary way, talking about setting fires and burning down barns and destroying people’s livelihoods. Hannah had backed against the wall and cried.
Luke had taken her hand and led her outside, given her an old bandana to dry her tears and reassured her that Mr. Richie wasn’t yelling at her. Sure enough, the old man had emerged from the barn pushing Marnie, Luke’s brother, Bobby, and their other two friends in front of him.
“I probably never said thank you back then, so thanks for saving me from Mr. Richie’s wrath.”
He snorted. “My brother could have used more of Mr. Richie’s kind of direction, but he didn’t get it.”
“Marnie, too. Mom tried her best, but she worked long hours, and Marnie took advantage.”
“How’s Marnie doing?”
Hannah sucked in a breath. Most people in town had heard, via the usual gossip circuit, so she hadn’t been faced with telling people very often. “She actually, um, she passed away. Very recently.” Her throat tightened, but she swallowed her emotions. Marnie didn’t deserve her sadness. “Of a drug overdose,” she said firmly.
“You’re kidding.” His eyebrows drew together and he shook his head. “I’m sorry for your loss, Hannah. Awful, the toll drugs can take. How’s your mom doing?”
“Not well.” She hesitated, debating how much to tell him.
“I’m sure. It’s not right, a child dying before a parent.”
“Mom’s really struggling.” Hannah would have to tell him about Addie and Emmy, especially if he was going to be in town for a couple of weeks. There was no way he wouldn’t hear, and it would seem weird that she hadn’t mentioned them up front. “Marnie, um, she had twins. So Mom and I are taking care of them.”
“How old?”
“Eighteen months.” She nodded sideways toward the Learn-and-Play’s entrance. “Gabby was good enough to accept them at the childcare here, so I can be nearby.” Even just mentioning the girls sent a warm surge of love through Hannah’s chest. She had to raise them well. Had to help them overcome the neglect they’d suffered as her sister had gone downhill.
“Is there a father in the picture?” he asked.
That was a normal question, she told herself as her face, neck and ears went impossibly hot.
And, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Marnie had been right about keeping the identity of the twins’ father a secret. “No, there isn’t,” she said, and then made a show of checking the time on her phone. “I’d better get to work. Those dogs won’t train themselves.”
She turned toward the barn where the rescue dogs were housed, opening her mouth to say goodbye to Luke.
To her surprise, he fell into step beside her. “Let me know if there’s anything you need for the dogs.”
That was a weird thing for him to say, and for the first time she wondered what he was doing at Rescue Haven. Whatever his errand, she wished he’d finish it up and go away. She lifted her face to the cold breeze and looked up at the low-hanging clouds. Luke had always been popular—good-looking and the type of slightly bad boy all the girls flocked after. The type that awkward, shy girls like Hannah could only ever admire from afar.
“So, how long are you in town?” she asked. “Any plans for your time here?”
“Reese has some special projects in the works. Their part-time handyman retired, so I’m working here for a couple of months.”
“Oh, wow.” Hannah gulped. They’d both be working at Rescue Haven. “Well, I should go check on the dogs.”
She scurried away awkwardly, like a frightened mouse. But she was frightened. Because two months was a long time to keep a secret.
* * *
Luke started back toward the supply shed, trying to remember what he’d been doing before he’d run into Hannah.
He’d always liked cute little Hannah—who’d grown up to be way more than cute—but it seemed she didn’t return the feeling. She’d sure acted strange when he’d said he worked here.
A police car pulled into the Rescue Haven driveway, spewing gravel. Luke’s heartbeat escalated, then settled down, as he turned to see what was going on.
Between his father and brother, cops had been a regular part of Luke’s childhood, and their appearance back then had never been a good thing. But he was a law-abiding citizen and an adult. He had no reason to feel guilty around the police.
The officer emerged, then opened the rear door and said something to the person inside. He reached in to help whoever it was.
Luke’s father climbed out, batting away the officer’s hand even though he obviously could have used the support; it took him a couple of tries to get himself upright.
Luke’s jaw tightened. What had Dad done now? At least Hannah had gone inside and wouldn’t witness this.
He strode toward the cop and his father.
Dad was holding on to the roof of the car while the officer reached inside and then emerged with Dad’s tall wooden cane. As Luke reached him, he smelled the whiskey emanating from his dad’s breath. He jammed his hands in his pockets to keep himself from strangling the man. “Are you kidding me, Pop? Drinking at nine a.m.?”
“Hey, Luke,” the officer said, holding out a hand. “John Pearson. I was a couple grades behind you in school.”
“I remember you.” Distractedly, Luke shook the man’s hand.
“Saw your dad was having some trouble walking. It’s a cold day. Heard you were working here, so I gave him a ride.”
Luke’s father muttered a few phrases under his breath. Something about how he hadn’t needed the help—that he was fine—and the cops had no right to interfere. The whole mumbled speech was laced with profanity.
Anger swelled up in Luke and he glared at his father. “What were you thinking? You’re having surgery right after Thanksgiving! On your liver!” He tried to lower his too-loud voice. “John gave you a ride. Which you needed. Can it.”
Both his father and the police officer were looking at something behind him. He glanced over his shoulder.
There was Hannah, and from the way her forehead creased, she’d heard him
scolding his father. She was probably close enough to smell the whiskey, too. He cringed inwardly.
“Thanks,” he said to John. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Great.” John looked relieved as he climbed back into his cruiser.
Luke helped his father over to the bench, swinging a wide berth around Hannah in the hope that she wouldn’t hear Dad’s profane grumbling. “Sit down a minute, Dad, while I settle a few things. Then I’ll run you home.”
Worries rolled around in his head. His father had said he wasn’t drinking much anymore, per doctor’s orders, and in the few days Luke had been in town, Dad had stayed sober. So what had caused him to fall off the wagon this early in the morning? Was he safe to be left at home alone, or did Luke need to take off the rest of the day—from the job he’d just gotten—in order to babysit him? Since Dad’s liver problems were alcohol-related, what had this little binge done to his health?
Luke’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and he tried to slow down and think. He knew that being here to help his dad prepare for and then recover from surgery was the right thing to do, the Christian thing. But it wasn’t going to be easy. And Dad wasn’t going to be grateful.
“Everything okay?” It was Reese Markowski, the man who, along with his wife, Gabby, oversaw the Rescue Haven program. Reese focused primarily on the at-risk boys who came here after school to help train dogs. He was standing beside Hannah.
“Yeah,” Luke said, shoving down his shame. “I just need to get Dad home.”
“Take all the time you need,” Reese said. “Our workload’s going to escalate soon—I’m ironing out the details for a new project—but for now, nothing’s an emergency.”
“Thanks.” Luke just wished this hadn’t happened in front of Reese and Hannah, both good people from good families, at least compared to his own.
“Is there anything I can do?” Hannah asked.
You can get out of here before you hear anything else that a lady shouldn’t. “Thanks, we’re fine,” he said, knowing his voice was too curt for politeness.