Читать книгу Risky Christmas: Holiday Secrets / Kidnapped at Christmas - Jill Sorenson - Страница 9

Leah made a traditional Christmas meal.

There was spiral ham, scalloped potatoes and fresh green beans. She’d steamed corn on the cob and made rolls from scratch. If anyone had room for dessert, she’d offer a warm cherry torte with vanilla ice cream.

Brian arrived on time, but Leah wasn’t quite ready. Mandy and Alyssa had been in high spirits all morning, running wild through the house. They tended to get overexcited on holidays, especially when Leah was too busy to discipline them. After she got fed up, threatening to take their presents away, they sat down to write Brian a thank-you note.

At the sound of the doorbell, she wiped her hands on a towel and went to answer it, glancing through the peephole. Her neighbor had cleaned up a little. His hair was combed back, his face freshly shaved. He’d also brought another gift—a large poinsettia.

Smoothing her apron, she opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She waved him in, studying his appearance from beneath lowered lashes. He was older than she’d first estimated, at least thirty. Years of surfing or working outdoors had given him a rugged, weathered look. His T-shirt and jeans were far from new, but his boots were spotless and he smelled good. Like soap and sawdust.

She locked the door behind him, gesturing at the poinsettia. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“It was no trouble.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, accepting the gift. Their fingertips brushed as he transferred the plant to her. Heart jittering, she stuck the poinsettia on the coffee table, admiring its festive red leaves.

He nodded hello to the girls, who regarded him with curiosity. “I’m Brian,” he said. “You might remember me as Santa.”

“This is Mandy,” Leah said, touching her older daughter’s head, “and that’s Alyssa.”

“Pleased to meet you both.”

The girls shed their shyness like a winter coat. “I drew you a picture!” Alyssa said, hopping to her feet. She showed him a drawing of a stick figure in a red hat and coat, standing next to a colorful green triangle. Not to be outdone, Mandy brandished her own artwork, a thank-you note decorated with bows and boxes. “I made you a card.”

Brian weighed the merits of each offering, giving them equal attention. “I like the Christmas tree,” he said to Alyssa, who beamed at the praise. Smiling, he turned to Mandy. “And you write very well for a first-grader.”

“I’m in kindergarten,” she said.

“Really? You must be the smartest girl in class.”

She glanced sideways at Leah, her face solemn. Mandy wasn’t as good a reader as Brittany, one of the other students. But she tried very hard at school and Leah couldn’t have been more proud of her. “I’m not.”

He chuckled at her honesty. “What about you?” he asked Alyssa.

“I’m the best drawer,” she said, ever-humble.

“I can see that.”

“Why don’t you girls set the table?” Leah suggested.

While Mandy transferred the good plates from the hutch, Alyssa dispersed the silverware, and Leah walked to the kitchen to take the rolls out of the oven. It was a warm day, even by California standards, and she was sweating. Shifting the rolls into a basket, she pushed a lock of hair off her forehead.

“Can I do anything to help?” Brian asked.

“Yes,” she said, taking the basket to the table. “We need drinks.” She’d already set out cups of water for the girls. “Do you like iced tea?”

“Sure.”

“There’s a pitcher in the fridge, and glasses in the cabinet.”

He found the iced tea and poured them each a tall glass, following her as she moved the serving dishes to the table. Alyssa had given herself two spoons, so Leah switched one with Mandy, nodding her approval. “Let’s eat.”

She’d planned to sit at the head of the table, but Brian took that chair. Although it felt odd to see another man in John’s place, asking him to move would be impolite. Leah glanced at the pronged fork near his right hand, aware that it could be used as a weapon.

He seemed to notice her discomfort. “Is this okay?”

“Of course,” she said, as if nothing was amiss. Instead of sitting down, she stood beside Brian and picked up the sharp fork, spearing a juicy section of ham. She served him first, because he was a guest. Then she dispersed slices of ham to the girls and herself. Bringing the fork to the opposite end of the table with her, she sat down.

The side dishes were passed around next, and with slightly less trepidation. Alyssa expressed her hatred for all vegetables and Mandy dropped a dinner roll, but that was par for the course. Leah put her napkin in her lap and reminded the girls to do the same, noting that Brian mimicked them. He also waited for Leah’s cue to start eating.

She felt self-conscious about not trusting him with the pronged fork. Instead of making stilted conversation, she tucked into her plate, pleased when Brian did the same. Unlike her daughters, who were picky eaters, he appeared to appreciate a home-cooked meal. Leah had forgotten how satisfying it felt to watch someone enjoy her food.

When the girls were finished, they started fidgeting and kicking their legs under the table. “Can we have ice cream?”

“In a few minutes,” she said, noting that they’d both eaten a fair amount. She rarely insisted that they clean their plates. “Wash up and go play.”

They took their dishes to the sink and ran off, eager to get back to their Christmas fun. Leah hadn’t been able to afford many gifts this year, but the Witness Protection Program had come through with some toys and art supplies. Along with the inexpensive items she’d purchased, and Santa’s surprise gifts, they had plenty to occupy them.

Brian ate every morsel on his plate, his fork scraping the flat surface.

“Would you like another helping?” Leah asked, amused.

He deliberated, obviously wanting more. She didn’t know where he’d put it on that lean frame.

“Go ahead,” she said with a smile, taking her own plate to the sink. “There’s plenty.” While she rinsed some dishes and tidied up the kitchen, he polished off a second serving of everything. “How is it?”

“Delicious. I think this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

Her cheeks heated at the compliment, which sounded sincere. She left the ice cream to thaw on the countertop and brought the cherry torte to the table, wondering how long it had been since he’d had a decent meal.

“I’ve been living on convenience store burritos.”

“That explains it,” she said, taking her seat.

He wiped his mouth with the napkin, shaking his head. “No, this is something special. Are you a chef?”

Before the girls came along, she’d gone to culinary school. “I decorate ice cream cakes in a warehouse,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but I’ve always loved to cook.” Her current job was a waste of her creative talents. Maybe in a few years she’d be placed somewhere more fitting. “What kind of construction work do you do?”

“Any kind. I specialize in custom carpentry, but I have a general contractor’s license, so I can take whatever’s available.” He leaned back in his chair, his expression sardonic. “Sometimes I dig ditches.”

Leah admired his good-natured attitude. Here she was, feeling sorry for herself because cake-decorating wasn’t a challenge. At least she didn’t have to dig trenches and lay bricks or whatever else he did. This poor guy had no furniture, no appliances. But he’d been kind enough to buy Christmas gifts for his neighbors.

“I know those presents were expensive,” she said. “Would you be offended if I offered to pay you back?”

His eyes darkened. “Yes.”

She drank another sip of tea, feeling awkward. Although he seemed nice, she didn’t know anything about him. She wanted to ask why he’d decided to play Santa, why he was alone on Christmas, and if he had a family of his own.

“I have two nieces,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Twins.”

Leah warmed to the subject. “Twins? How old are they?”

“Almost four. I bought the Santa suit two years ago, with them in mind.”

“How did they like it?”

A creased formed between his brows. “They never saw it. My sister…their mother…died in a car accident that year.”

She lifted a hand to her lips. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

He inclined his head. “Her husband was from the East Coast, so he moved back there with my nieces a few months later.”

“Have you seen them since?”

“No. He’s remarried and…they don’t remember me. I don’t think they remember her.”

“Oh, my God,” she repeated, stunned. “That’s awful.”

He didn’t disagree.

She struggled to think of something comforting to say. “Alyssa was a baby when her father died, so it’s been easier for her. Mandy took it hard. I try not to dwell on the loss, but I can’t imagine pretending he didn’t exist.”

“You still talk about him?”

“Maybe not as much as I should,” she admitted, seeing her neighbor in a different light. When he’d read Mandy and Alyssa’s letter, he must have been reminded of his nieces. It was a tragic situation. “I’m so sorry I threw you out earlier. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, relaxing a little. “I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about…what kind of person I am.” His gaze fell to the pronged fork on the table, out of his reach.

“I’m overprotective,” she said, chagrined. “I don’t mean any insult.”

He gave her a curious look, as if contemplating the reason for her caution.

The girls burst back on the scene, begging for dessert, so Leah rose to get the ice cream. Grabbing a few small plates, she scooped smooth vanilla bean alongside the warm cherry torte. “Do you want some?” she asked Brian, serving her daughters first this time.

“Is it as good as the cookies?”

“Better,” she said.

His brows rose in agreement as he took a first bite. “Wow.”

Leah lifted a spoon to her mouth, enjoying the sweet, tart cherries and creamy vanilla ice cream. By the time dessert was over, they were all stuffed. Mandy and Alyssa had both been up since the crack of dawn and looked tired. Leah put on a Disney movie for them and returned to the kitchen, surprised to see Brian at the sink.

“I thought I’d help you load the dishwasher.”

“It doesn’t work,” she said, surprised. “I’ve never used it.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Go ahead.”

He glanced into the cabinet under the sink, checking the wiring. “It’s not hooked up right.”

“Really?”

“I can fix it if you want.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, drumming her fingertips against her elbows. “How long will it take?”

“Half an hour.”

“What do you charge?”

He shrugged. “A plate of leftovers.”

“I was going to offer you that anyway.”

“Then it’s a deal. I’ll get my tools.”

Brian came back five minutes later with a scarred metal toolbox. Setting it on the floor, he opened the sink cabinet and hunkered down. “You have an old towel?”

She had nothing but old towels. Grabbing a couple of different sizes from the bathroom, she brought them to him. He placed one of the large ones over the lip of the cabinet, making a more comfortable spot to lean against. Then he stretched out on his back and got to work, unscrewing bolts and taking the plumbing apart.

With his head under the sink and his long legs sticking out, he should have looked odd. Instead he seemed at ease, even masterful. There was something very manly about this task. As he cranked a wrench, shifting his weight in the cramped space, the hem of his T-shirt rode up, revealing a strip of his taut abdomen. She averted her gaze.

John had never been handy with tools.

Leah concentrated on putting away the leftovers. She packed a hefty portion of ham, potatoes, and green beans into a plastic container for Brian. Then she wrapped a piece of cherry torte in foil and added a tin of cookies to the stash.

“There,” he said, making a final adjustment. “Turn it on.”

She pressed the button to start the dishwasher. Water rushed into the machine, beginning a new cycle. “It works!”

He moved his head out from underneath the sink. “Run it once without any dishes to make sure.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, marveling at his skills. She’d been meaning to get the dishwasher fixed for ages. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“It was nothing.”

“Are you sure I can’t pay you?”

He gathered up his tools, preparing to leave. “I’m sure.”

Leah was both sorry and relieved to see him go. Although she enjoyed his company and appreciated his help, his presence unnerved her in a way she didn’t want to analyze. She also couldn’t afford to let anyone get too close. Intuition told her that Brian Cosgrove had a canny mind, along with deft hands.

To keep her children safe, she had to stay guarded.

Turning back to the counter, she put the food containers in a striped gift bag. “Merry Christmas,” she said, handing it to him.

He accepted the bag with a polite nod and she saw him out, locking the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, the house seemed empty. And too quiet. She went to check on the girls, noting that Alyssa had fallen asleep with Dr. Elmo in her arms. Mandy was still watching 101 Dalmations.

Leah curled up beside her, staring sightlessly at the screen.

Brian wasn’t able to relax when he came home from Leah’s.

The meal had been fantastic. Even after tasting her cookies, he hadn’t expected her to be such a good cook. Maybe because she was on the slender side and had kind of a skittish personality. Sharing a meal with a neighbor seemed out of character for her. Brian imagined that most chefs were round and gregarious.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t friendly. It was more like she wasn’t happy.

She’d lost her husband and was raising two kids on her own, so that was understandable. Most women in her position wouldn’t feel overjoyed.

But there was a deeper issue with her, he suspected. She’d panicked when she saw him this morning. She’d also made sure he didn’t have access to the serving fork. Although his sister had often moved sharp items out of the children’s reach, Leah’s kids weren’t babies. She considered him a threat.

He wasn’t insulted by her attitude. She was a protective mother and he respected that. What unsettled him was the thought of someone traumatizing her so badly that she expected others to do the same.

In a way, she reminded him of himself. He’d been bounced around a lot when he was a kid. So had his little sister. A few of the foster homes they’d lived in were just as dysfunctional as his mother’s house, and it wasn’t unusual for him to get picked on or roughed up. As he got older he’d become less of a target. He’d learned how to defend himself and his sister, but he’d never forgotten how it felt to be small and scared.

During the meal, he’d wondered if Leah’s husband had been abusive. Then her eyes had softened when she spoke of him and he dismissed the idea.

Whatever she’d gone through was none of his business. He was drawn to her and he had the strange feeling that she shared his interest. But he also realized that she didn’t welcome the attraction. He should forget about their impromptu Christmas get-together.

She wouldn’t invite him back.

Brian decided to keep an eye out for her anyway. The remodel would take several more months, and he liked the idea of being her unofficial security guard. No one could approach Leah’s house without him noticing.

He’d had no control over his foster-care childhood or his sister’s untimely death. He had no chance at having a relationship with his nieces, his only relatives. But he could take on the responsibility of watching over Leah and her children.

He could do it from a distance.