Praise for Gail Gaymer Martin

“Gail Gaymer Martin has certainly mastered the art

of creating romantic tension between characters.”

—Carly Kendall, www.carlybirdshome.blogspot.com,

on A Dad of His Own

“A fun read with a serious side.”

—RT Book Reviews on Bride in Training

“Faith, hope, love and forgiveness all play a role

in this terrifically warm, endearing tale.”

—RT Book Reviews on Family in His Heart

Praise for Brenda Minton

“A lovely romance where the characters’

acceptance of God’s plans surprisingly

brings them their hearts’ desires.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Cowboy’s Family

“A satisfyingly emotional story.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Cowboy’s Courtship

“Brenda Minton excels at showing readers deep

and intense emotions. This is a powerful story of …

recognizing what is truly important in life.”

—Debbie Wiley, www.bookilluminations.com,

on Jenna’s Cowboy Hero

Christmas Gifts

Small Town Christmas

Gail Gaymer Martin

Her Christmas Cowboy

Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Small Town Christmas

Gail Gaymer Martin

Dear Reader,

The wonder of Christmas captures everyone—children and adults. Families enjoy their special holiday traditions, yet for some, traditions fade as they did for Mike following his wife’s death. The death of loved ones seems harder to bear at Christmas. Yet we rejoice because we know they are waiting for us one day. And as Mike said to the twins, love is endless, and even though he and the girls had lost a wife and mother, love opens doors again to new experiences and new relationships. Amy opened a door for Mike and his girls. God hears our prayers and knows our hearts. He provides not only at Christmas, but also every day of our lives.

I hope you enjoyed meeting Amy, Mike, Grams and the twins, who learned to show their love again. I also hope you enjoyed the people of Harrisville, a real small town in northern Michigan.

May your Christmas be blessed, and may you allow the Lord to open doors of love and hope for you this Christmas and always.

Thanks to Love Inspired Books Senior Editor, Melissa Endlich, who invited me to participate in this special two-in-one Christmas novel. Many thanks to the wonderful people I met while visiting the real town of Harrisville. Thanks to the principal of Alcona Elementary School, Mrs. Sharon Fairchild, and her staff, including a second-grade teacher. To Manny Pompa, owner of the Flour Garden, who provided me with information about the Christmas tree lighting event and Christmas in the Village. To Judy Labadie with the Harrisville Chamber of Commerce, who answered many of my questions in person and via the telephone. To Carol Luck, head librarian at the Alcona County Library in Harrisville, and to Deidre Gray, owner of Maggies On Main, who fielded many questions or guided me to someone who knew the answer. As always, my love and thanks to my husband, Bob, who stands by me even with my last-minute research plans.

You have made known to me the paths of life;

you will fill me with joy in your presence.

—Acts 2:28

Chapter One

“You do understand that this is only temporary?”

Amy Carroll jerked her eyes away from the fall scene outside the window and gazed at the Alcona Elementary School principal. “Yes, I understand, Mrs. Fredericks. My grandmother told me the situation when she called.” Grams seemed to know everything in the small town. “Temporary is fine. I lived in Chicago for five years, and I would miss the hustle and bustle being gone too long. I’d love to be called back, but I don’t expect it to happen.”

“Don’t give up hope. You might be.”

The finality washed over her. “They’ve closed a number of schools in the Chicago area, including the one where I taught. My only option would be finding a position somewhere outside the city.”

Mrs. Fredericks smacked her hands together. “Whatever happens, this works well for us. You have excellent credentials, and I’m pleased you’ll be joining our staff on Monday to finish out the school year.” She closed the file folder, slipped it into her desk tray and rolled back in her chair. “Welcome to Alcona Elementary.” She rose and extended her hand. “The secretary will give you what you need—a school calendar, your textbooks and a lesson planning guide. You’ve taught second grade before, so it’s perfect.”

Amy stood and grasped her hand. “It is, and thanks so much.” She gave a firm shake and stepped toward the door. “I look forward to—”

“Mrs. Fredericks.” The office secretary leaned into the room. “Mr. Russet—you know, the twins’ father—is waiting to see you.”

“The twins. Yes.” A heavy sigh whisked the air as the principal’s shoulders slumped. “You can …” She paused and eyed Amy. “Ask him to wait just a moment.”

Amy took another step toward the door, anxious to retreat.

“Please wait a moment, Miss Carroll.”

Amy jerked to a halt.

“The twins will be in your class next week.”

“Really?” Amy tried to keep a smile on her face.

Mrs. Fredericks nodded. “It might help you to meet the girls. They have a propensity for getting into trouble. Earlier this week, Holly tripped Ivy while she was jumping rope.”

Amy struggled to keep her eyebrows from arching. “Is this common?”

“I’m afraid so. It’s their typical behavior, and as always, Holly insisted it was only an accident.”

“Could it have been?” She liked to give children the benefit of the doubt in such situations.

“Not usually, but I think sometimes Ivy sets up the situation. Almost feeds Holly the ideas. Their teacher hasn’t put her finger on the trouble. Maybe you can.”

Maybe you can. Amy managed to keep her composure. The pressure didn’t set well, although the comment appeared to be a compliment. But what if she failed?

“I’d like you to meet them. They’re right across the hall in the cafeteria. It might help you prepare for Monday.”

A niggling sense of worry settled over Amy. “I suppose that would be … practical.”

“Plus you can keep an eye on them while I talk with their father.” Mrs. Fredericks chuckled and motioned her to follow. “Let me introduce you.”

Amy followed Mrs. Fredericks through the doorway. Across the hall, she spotted the girls seated on each side of the cafeteria benches, cuter and sweeter looking than her perception. Although not identical twins, their features were similar. Their bright blue eyes, like the Caribbean sea, widened when they saw the principal.

The child with a tawny-colored ponytail swung her legs over the bench. “It wasn’t me, Mrs. Fredericks.”

“Yes, it was.” The blonder twin slipped from her seat, her hair gathered into a ponytail on each side of her head. “Mrs. Fredericks, Holly tore up my drawing in art class.”

“I know. Please sit for a moment.” Holly gestured to the benches. “I want you to meet someone.”

Their heads turned and they scrutinized Amy before eyeing each other, a hint of fear quickly covered by determination.

Amy’s heart squeezed.

“Miss Carroll, this young lady is Holly.” She rested her hand on the one with honey-brown hair and the deep frown. “And this is Ivy.”

Ivy gazed at her, curiosity written on her face.

Amy stepped closer. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Neither responded.

Mrs. Fredericks eyed them. “Miss Carroll will be your new teacher, starting Monday.”

“New teacher?” Holly’s ponytail flipped as she swiveled toward Amy.

“Remember?” Mrs. Fredericks leaned forward, resting her palms on the table. “Mrs. Larch is expecting a baby soon, so she’s taking a leave.”

Their intent expression flickered as their glances collided. “She told us.” Their responses blended in agreement.

“Good. Now I’ll leave you with Miss Carroll, and you can have a nice talk.” She turned to Amy. “I’ll be back shortly.” Mrs. Fredericks offered a pleasant grin, then strode toward the door. Before she exited she glanced over her shoulder. “When I return, I’ll introduce you to the girls’ father. I’m sure you’d like that.”

“Our dad?” two voices rang in unison.

Amy wasn’t so sure she was ready to meet her first parent quite yet, but she clenched her teeth and agreed. When she looked at the twins, they were peering at her again, Holly with her arms crossed at her chest and Ivy with one fist jammed into her waist.

Amy pulled her gaze upward, reading the signs written in large black letters that hung above the tables. Citizenship. Responsibility. Apparently, the twins hadn’t read them. She bit the inside of her lip. Every year she’d met children and their parents, but today the meeting seemed more like confrontation.

“Why are you here?”

Holly’s blunt question grabbed Amy’s attention. She held back a grin. That’s the question she’d planned to ask them. Instead she slipped around the end of the bench and sat at the table. Both girls scrutinized her before they settled down again, their query still hanging on the air.

“I came to pick up the textbooks used in your class,” she answered simply. Getting to know the two girls better seemed more important than showing her authority. Still, behind those sweet faces, Amy sensed that some kind of unhappiness or hurt was dredging up their troublesome behavior. She looked from one girl to the other. “I think the more important question is what are you doing here?” She swung her arm toward the cafeteria serving counter.

“Mrs. Fredericks made us sit here.”

“Hmm?” Amy tapped her finger against her cheek. “I wonder why? It’s not lunch time.”

Ivy bit her lip. “Kids who misbehave have to sit in here and wait.”

Holly’s frown deepened. “I didn’t do anything bad.”

Ivy rested her palms on the table, pressing her face closer to Holly’s, her look searing through her sister. “You tore up my drawing.”

“But you said it wasn’t any good.”

Ivy fell back to her seat. “If I wanted to tear it up, I would have done it.”

“That’s right, Ivy.” Amy focused on Holly, monitoring her tone. “When something belongs to me, I make decisions about what to do with it. No one else.”

Holly turned her head toward the doorway and tightened her ponytail.

Amy didn’t respond to the child’s behavior. “What kind of pictures were you drawing?”

Holly’s head tilted back, as if she wasn’t sure Amy really cared.

Hoping to soothe the tension, Amy grinned. “I’d like to hear about what you do in the classroom because I’ll be your new teacher on Monday.”

Holly’s shoulders relaxed. “We were drawing pictures of pilgrims and Indians for our social studies.”

“Because it’s almost Thanksgiving, right?” Amy gave them a wink.

“Uh-huh, and…” A movement by the door caught her attention.

“Daddy!” Both girls shot from the benches and ran to a harried-looking man who stood inside the doorway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

Amy’s heart gave a twinge. A five o’clock shadow encompassed his lean jaw and his chestnut hair was tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it many times. His eyebrows stretched above his caramel brown eyes, flashing with emotion. She couldn’t tell if he were ready to blow a gasket or just fizzle.

Her question was answered when he released a nervous laugh and rocked on his heels. “You must be Miss Carroll, the new teacher.” He strode toward her. “I’m the girls’ father.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg before extending it to Amy.

Amy met him halfway while the twins hovered at his side. She dropped her palm into his, aware of his warm grip.

“Nice to meet you.” His frustration couldn’t hide behind his pleasant expression.

“Good to meet you, too, Mr. Russet.”

Behind him Mrs. Fredericks watched the scene with seeming interest. “I’ll leave you now. And I’ll see you on Monday, Miss Carroll.” She gave her a wave and vanished.

When she looked back, Amy saw the girls cringe, and her skin prickled. “Your daughters were telling me about their social studies.”

“Social studies? Really?” A grin played on his lips before his gaze dropped to the twins. “You know, girls, we have some serious talking to do.”

The twins lowered their eyes, but in them, she saw consternation. Maybe remorse. Whatever it was, the look caught her attention.

When she looked up, their father was studying her with curiosity. “I’m sure we’ve met.” Amy drew back. “Met? Where?” “At your grandmother’s. Years ago.” She did a double take. “My grandmother’s?” A crooked smile curved his mouth. “Ellie Carroll. Lake Street. Right?”

“Yes, that’s it.” But Amy’s memory drew a blank. “We live on Lake Street, too.” The twins’ voices melded together.

His grin widened. “I thought you’d remember. It was maybe eleven years ago.”

Her face knotted as she tried to recall. “I don’t think so.” Yet something shimmered in the shadow of her mind. “I was only eighteen then, Mr. Russet.”

“I was twenty-three, earning money as a handyman while I looked for a job.” He grinned. “Maybe you remember my first name, Mike?”

Amy gasped in surprise, as the memory came flooding back.

“You’re the guy who dug out Grams’s old shrubbery and planted new ones.” She pictured him in the summer sun, his muscles flexing while his shirt hung on her grandmother’s deer ornament in the tree-sheltered yard.

“The same, except a few pounds heavier and some wrinkles.”

Amy studied his face, seeing only a few worry lines. His unruly hair hadn’t changed. She remembered how it ruffled in the breeze, his lean handsome face taut with concentration. They were young then, and she’d flirted with him. But when she went inside, her grandmother had notified her he was newly married. Heat rose up Amy’s neck at the thought. She hoped he didn’t remember she’d toyed with him. She managed to look at him. “I’ll tell Grams I saw you.” “Gramma Ellie sits with us.” Amy’s head turned toward Ivy. “She does?” “Quite often, actually.” Mike shrugged a shoulder. “She and the girls get on great.”

Even though she tried to listen to what he was saying, her memory kept flashing back to the summer they’d first met. Her chest pressed against her lungs, the same reaction she had that day. But today Grams’s words rang clear, and she knew better. He was married. Amy eyed the doorway, calculating how she might whip past the beguiling man and escape. She came to her senses and checked her watch. “Speaking of Grams, I’d better be on my way. She’s expecting me home, and I don’t want her to worry.”

“Certainly, Miss Carroll.” He stepped aside, his gaze settling on the girls. “I have a couple things to take care of myself.”

“Nice to meet you, Holly and Ivy. I’ll see you on Monday.” Ivy gave a wave, but Holly only sent her a questioning look.

“And nice to meet you … again.” She could only glance at Mike, fearing he would notice he’d flustered her just as he had that day long ago. She hurried through the doorway, wishing Mrs. Russet had been the one to face the principal about the girls.

Discomfort followed her to her car, and after she opened the door, she turned and slammed it closed. Too busy dealing with her memories, she’d forgotten to pick up the textbooks and lesson plan book in the front office.

Quickly darting into the building, Amy gathered the materials from the secretary. Safe outside, she slipped into her hatchback and headed down Highway 72 toward town. She loved working with children, and although she knew the twins might be a problem, she decided to formulate a plan of action. If she had solutions before the problems occurred, she might be able to teach the girls a little about cooperation and getting along. Being an only child, she’d never experienced a sister’s relationship firsthand, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to help the girls with theirs.

Mike’s frustration inched into her mind. He seemed at a loss on how to deal with them, which made her assume the twins’ mother did most of the disciplining. If she talked with Mrs. Russet, perhaps they could decide how best to resolve the twins’ issues.

Reaching Main Street, she stopped at the Local IGA and picked up the groceries her grandmother had asked her to bring home. When she turned down Lake Street, she looked closely at each residence, curious to know which might be the Russets’.

Soon she turned into her grandmother’s driveway, washed by its homey feeling. She’d spent so many summers at Grams’s, listening to her stories and learning how to bake cookies. Her grandmother taught her so many things she’d missed living in Illinois with her dad. And spending Christmas with her grandmother made her smile.

As soon as her car came to a halt in the long driveway, Grams’s face appeared at the kitchen window. Amy waved before lifting the bags and heading inside. “Sorry I’m late. I hope you didn’t need the groceries.”

“No, they’re for tomorrow.”

“Good.” She set the sacks on the kitchen table. “The principal wanted me to meet two sisters who’ll be in my class. They’d gotten into trouble, and—”

“Holly and Ivy.” Her rosy cheeks lifted in a grin. “Am I right?”

Amy chuckled. “You are.” She pulled milk and eggs from the package and set them in the refrigerator. “And I talked with their dad.”

“Poor Mike.” Grams shook her head. “That man has faced the principal more than he did when he was in school, I’m sure.” She lifted the bag of flour. “Those little darlings are so needy, but you’d be surprised how good they are with me.”

“Their dad told me.” Amy tried to picture the girls’ expressions without defiance and questioning looks. “I assume their mother works. I wish she’d been the one—”

Grams shook her head. “Their mother died a few years ago.”

“Died? That’s awful.”

“I think the twins were about four years old. Mike’s raising those girls alone.”

Amy’s heart wrenched. She knew what that was like.

When her own mother ran off without taking her along, her father had tried so hard to be both father and mother for her.

Grams reached over and patted her hand. “I knew you’d understand, but you were always a good girl. Never had an ounce of worry for you.” She shrugged. “Each person’s different.”

Her grandmother’s words didn’t console her. Yes, she’d been good, but it didn’t change how she’d felt. Most girls needed a mom. Even having her precious grandmother couldn’t make up for the loss of a mother. And she’d watched her father suffer and grow distant without realizing how it had affected her. Romance and marriage stuck in her mind like a thorn. Who wanted to get involved in the fickle emotions of love?

Amy folded the grocery bags while Mike’s image stayed in her mind. Twin girls. No wife. A job. Household responsibilities. That wasn’t a life for anyone. As the truth struck her, one of the sacks she’d folded slipped from her hands. She bent to retrieve it, facing the fact that her own life was much too similar to Mike’s, but without children. Work. Errands. A few friends. Not much.

Had Mike been able to overcome the pain of his wife’s death? Her stomach tightened as her gaze drifted to her grandmother. She swallowed the questions. If she asked, Grams would either make something out of her curiosity or warn her off, just as she’d done eleven years ago.

What was the sudden attraction to a widower and two troubled girls? She’d passed up plenty of dates more than once. Just the thought of getting involved with someone made as much sense as living in a small town. She couldn’t do it for an extended time. Not for a million dollars.

Chapter Two

Mike pulled up to his house, priding himself on keeping his cool with the twins while they were still at school. But how much longer could he cope with it? Even though his daughters were precious to him, they were stretching him to the limit.

He turned off the ignition and veiled his frustration. “Inside, girls.” He swung open the door and slammed it, his first action that showed his real feelings.

The girls’ voices whiffled past him as they darted toward the house. He searched for the front door key, but instead of hurrying ahead, he gazed down the street to the large house with the wide stone porch. He couldn’t help but grin despite his stress.

His mind flew back to the day he’d met Amy Carroll. Ellie had spoken about her so often. She’d been a lovely young girl, full of energy and fresh as dew. She’d flirted with him, and when he returned home, he’d told Laura and they’d laughed.

He headed to his porch, but his thoughts clung to Amy. Her long brown hair, the color of ripe chestnuts, hung in a slight wave, and her cinnamon-colored eyes had widened when he’d mentioned their first meeting. Color had spotted her cheeks, letting him know she’d remembered the details of that day.

Bounding up the porch steps, he pulled his attention back to the girls. What would he do with them now? Nothing seemed to work. He stuck the key in the lock and then focused for a moment on each twin.

Ivy leaned against him as she tended to do, but belligerence heightened in Holly’s eyes.

When he pushed the door back, she whipped past him while Ivy lingered, wanting to plead her case, he was sure.

“Daddy, I didn’t do anything. Holly ripped my—”

“I know what happened. Mrs. Fredericks gave me all the details, including a few other incidents that they didn’t call me in for.” He motioned toward her bedroom. “Change your clothes, and we’ll talk.”

She slogged toward her room, her face covered by the wounded look he’d come to know.

He dropped onto a kitchen chair and pressed his face into his hands. He’d made mistakes. He’d spoiled the girls. When their mother died, he’d been lost. But later he was determined to be a father and mother to them. Impossible, he realized now. Instead of guiding them, he’d pampered them and let their misbehavior go unchecked. No more.

His head ached, and he dug his fists into his eyes willing the pain away. When he lifted his head to the sunshine streaming through the window, the throb remained.

The previous teacher, Mrs. Larch, hadn’t been able to control the girls. They’d continued to distract the class. He was exhausted and out of ideas on how best to control his girls. If only Laura hadn’t died, maybe then—He shook his head. Why hadn’t he realized how sick she was?

Regret was useless. If he clung to all of his what-ifs, he would live in the past forever. Moving forward with his life needed to happen now, not only for his sake but for the girls’. He massaged the cords in his neck to ease the tension.

Amy slipped into his mind, bringing him hope. Until she’d noticed him, he’d watched her talking to the girls when he’d crossed the hall to the cafeteria. The twins were listening to her, and even though Holly’s belligerence still marred her pretty face, so like her mother’s, Ivy seemed to hang on to her every word. How had she done it? He slapped the tabletop and rose. That’s what he needed to do. See if Amy could teach him something. Discipline with love. Could he learn to do that?

Mike slipped off his jacket, hung it on the back of a chair and strode to the refrigerator. He poured a slosh of milk and swallowed, still feeling a hungering void.

Noise from the hall caught his attention. He rinsed the glass and set it in the sink while his gaze drifted down the street to Ellie’s tree-filled property. An unfamiliar car sat at the back of the driveway, a sporty hatchback, practical but spirited, with its deep orange color. No doubt Amy had returned home.

“Daddy.”

He turned, startled by Ivy’s voice. The two girls stood beside the table, waiting. “Let’s sit in the living room, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He marched into the room and settled into his recliner. The girls plopped onto the sofa.

“I’m hungry, so don’t take long.”

Holly’s sarcastic tone grated him, but he bit his tongue, unwilling to argue. “I don’t want to know what happened today because Mrs. Fredericks told me. I want to know what we’ll do about it.”

“About what?” Ivy’s wide eyes sent him an innocent gaze.

“About your behavior.” He monitored his tone.

“If Holly wouldn’t tear up my—”

Mike held up his hand to shush her. “This isn’t about a picture or being tripped when you jumped rope or anything else.” He aimed his gaze at Holly. “This has to do with making changes. I’m tired of being called up to school. Do you realize I have to take time off from work to come there and listen to the same old stories about your behavior?”

“But—”

“I want solutions, Holly, not buts.”

Ivy started to titter, and Holly soon followed.

He stared at them and waited for their silliness to end. He’d hoped to reason with them, to find some solutions. Mrs. Fredericks had given him one, and although he’d negated it, the idea might set a fire under the girls.

“Sorry, Daddy, but you said—”

“I know what I said, Ivy. I’m asking for changes. What will they be?”

The two gazed at the floor, their hands in their laps, and said nothing.

“Then I have a solution. Mrs. Fredericks recommends that we split the two of you into different second grade classes.”

“No, Daddy. Please.” Ivy’s volume rose with each word.

His mind reeled. “Why not? I would think you’d be happy.”

She shook her head in high speed. “We need to be together.”

“Why?” His focus shifted from one to the other. “Together isn’t working, so why?” “Because we’re all we got.”

Hearing Ivy knocked him backward. We ‘re all we got. His heart wrenched. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Then you will make some changes in your behavior, or it will be out of my hands.”

A frown crept to their faces.

“Will Mrs. Fredericks make us go to different classes?”

Ivy’s plaintive look stymied him. “If you keep causing problems, then I think she will.”

She shifted toward Holly, who’d said little. “Do you want to go to another class?”

Holly looked away with a faint shake of the head.

Mike remained silent, giving them time to think until both pairs of eyes returned to his. “You have the weekend to make a decision.” And he had the weekend to figure out what to do. “Remember what I said.” He rose. “By the way, Holly, if you’re hungry, eat some fruit. Dinner won’t be for a while yet.”

They popped up and sped from the room while he sat questioning his threat. If they separated during school, would it make a difference? What about their behavior at home? His chest constricted while Ivy’s words rang in this head. We ‘re all we got. He needed to understand what she meant.

The refrigerator door opened, and before it closed, he rose and headed into the kitchen. “If you want to watch TV, you can, but I know you have some homework today. Mrs. Fredericks told me.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?”

Holly’s favorite question rang in his ears. “You’re going to spend part of the day with Gramma Ellie. Do you want to do homework then?”

“No.” Ivy spun on her heel. “I’ll do mine now. I’d rather have fun tomorrow.”

Holly gave it some thought before she followed Ivy toward her room.

Mike headed into the kitchen, pulled out an apple and took a bite. Dinner was more than an hour away, and for once, he had time on his hands.

Leaves drifting past the window caught his eye. He planned to rake them tomorrow, but his body charged with energy. His gaze drifted and he spotted Amy in Ellie’s front yard tugging leaves toward the side lot. Big yard. Big job for a slender woman.

He slipped on his jacket, but before he stepped outside, he ambled to the twins’ bedroom doors. “I’m going out to rake. I’ll be there if you need me.”

A muffled okay came from Ivy’s room. Holly’s was silent. She’d probably fallen asleep.

Mike stepped onto the side porch and grabbed his work gloves and rake, then headed down the steps. But instead of tackling his task, he strode across the street, drawn by the lithe woman whose opinion he valued.

When she spotted him, she stopped and leaned on the rake handle. Her hair shone with streaks of dark gold in the afternoon sun, and her cheeks were rosy with the crisp breeze. “So that’s where you live. The blue-and-white house.”

“Not too far away.”

“It’s cute. I admired it when I passed by earlier.”

“Thanks.” He’d never considered the house cute, as she called it, but it motivated him to turn and take another look. “My wife picked the color. She loved blue.”

Amy’s smile faded. “I’m sorry about your loss. Grams told me.”

He suspected Ellie had. He motioned to the lawn to change the subject. “Let me help you.”

She shook her head. “You have your own leaves to take care of. I can—”

“I’m sure you can, but I’d like to help.” He swung out the rake and gave a tug. The debris tangled in the tines, jerking him to a sudden stop. “Does Ellie … does your grandmother have an old sheet or maybe a tarp? We can make fast work of this if she does.”

“A sheet?”

“We’ll rake the leaves onto it and drag the load to the side. Much easier.”

Her eyebrows arched. “That’s a great idea.” She dropped the rake. “Wish I’d thought of that a half hour ago.”

She darted off as he watched her long legs make short work of the distance. A runner. He could picture her jogging down the streets of Chicago, turning heads as she went. The woman definitely turned his. Even though a tinge of guilt swept past him, he didn’t let it sway his thoughts. Laura had been gone three years, and it had been a long time since he’d really looked at another woman.

Amy waved a white cloth at him as she returned. “Grams said to use this.” She tossed it to him as she approached, a grin growing on her face. “Here’s the deal. You help me, and I’ll come over and help you.”

Normally he wouldn’t consider it, but for the first time in years, he felt like a man instead of just a dad. “Deal.”

Together they spread the sheet on the grass and raked the leaves into the center. When it had filled they dragged the burden to the side lot. The trip repeated over and over, and before he realized how much time had passed, the twins were scuttling across the road.

“We’re hungry.” Ivy’s softer voice reached him.

Holly’s command followed. “It’s time for dinner. Are you going to feed us?”

Mike checked his watch. Six o’clock. Time had flown. He eyed Ellie’s yard, almost empty of leaves, and drew up his shoulders. “Appears I’m being summoned.” He lifted the rake. “I can finish this tomorrow after work if you—”

“Tomorrow’s your yard. This is all but done.” She gave them a wave. “Your dad has been kind enough to help me with the leaves.”

The twins spun toward the pile as if they hadn’t noticed it. A grin grew on their faces, and before Mike could move, they’d darted past them toward the mound. Holly dived toward the heap first, but Ivy shot past and Holly tripped over her foot. She skidded onto her knees and tumbled into the crackling leaves as Ivy plowed in beside her, leaves flying into the air and skittering across the grass. Mike dropped his rake and dashed forward, but not before Holly was on top of her sister, hands around her throat. “You tripped me on purpose.”

“No, she didn’t.” Mike grasped her jacket and yanked her up. “You tripped over her foot.”

Tears flowed down Holly’s face, more from his taking Ivy’s side than from being hurt, he suspected.

“Are you okay?” Amy reached their side but stood back observing the fray.

As Mike pulled Ivy from the leaves, she gave him her sad-eyes look and rubbed her neck. “She choked me.”

“I know.” Embarrassed and helpless, he raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d better get these girls home.”

Amy stepped closer. “If they’re hungry, Grams is ordering pizza and—”

“Pizza!”

Apparently the argument had been forgotten, but their eager voices failed to influence him. “Thanks anyway, Amy.”

“Daddy, I’m hungry.” Holly’s narrowed eyes matched her frown.

“Please don’t bark at me.” He turned a scowl back at her. “I’m sorry. The time flew and I didn’t realize—” He sucked in air and stopped apologizing. That was it. He’d grown tired of marching to Holly’s commands. “We’ll go home and have dinner after we talk again.”

“But the pizza.” Her frown deepened.

Ivy leaned her head against his side. He wrapped his arm around her, pleased she’d not gotten mouthy, too.

Amy stepped back, looking uneasy. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” His response faded as his mind filled in the blanks. To rake leaves. “In the afternoon. I have to work in the morning.”

“Afternoon’s fine.” A grin followed.

“Working Saturday happens on occasion.” He gave a shrug and put on a smile. “Thanks for the pizza invitation, but …” He tilted his head toward the girls.

“I understand.”

Even though they protested, Mike didn’t give in. He marched the twins across the street, knowing he had to get tough. Tough. That was so far from his nature, but he had to do something with the girls. What would Laura do? No, the real question was what would Amy do?

Chapter Three

Amy leaned her shoulder against the dining room doorway and watched her grandmother baking cookies with the twins. Worried about her relationship with the girls and her role as their teacher, Amy had made herself scarce while Grams kept an eye on them Saturday morning. She’d been cordial but stayed busy in her room, studying the textbooks and working on her lesson plans for Monday.

The twins fell into step with her grandmother without trauma. Surprised that they showed so much respect, Amy observed what Grams did, hoping to note what made the difference. She’d need to find a way to work with the twins and keep them together in the class. She wanted the opportunity to express her opinion to Mike.

She’d observed the girls’ constant wavering love/hate relationship. Competition created the problem, plus their lack of … what? What caused their need for negative attention. Mike seemed like a caring father. Maybe too caring. He tended to let them get away with a little too much. Sometimes a single parent tried to make up for the lack of the other parent by giving in to the wrong things.

Would Mike accept her help? If she said something, he could easily take it as criticism. She drew up her shoulders and released a breath. Fearing the girls might notice her, she backed away from the door and checked her watch. Mike said he should arrive home about noon—only minutes away.

Amy wandered to one of the front windows and looked toward the blue house. His wife chose the color, he’d said. Were his feelings still raw? According to Grams, it had been about three years since Mike’s wife had died. Death of a spouse lay beyond her experience. She couldn’t even imagine. And the poor girls. So young.

Seeing the empty driveway, she let the curtain drop, but as she did, a movement caught her eye. She looked again as Mike pulled toward the garage in the back of his yard and slid from his sedan. Hearing their murmuring voices in the kitchen, the girls were still preoccupied and that would give her a chance to slip across the road and talk with Mike before they realized he was home.

She tiptoed to the kitchen doorway, caught Grams’s attention and signaled she was going out. Grams nodded, and involved with the cookies, the girls hadn’t noticed. Her jacket hung in the front closet, and she slipped it on and exited through the front door. She grasped the rake she’d left on the porch and bounded down the front steps. A few additional leaves had drifted from the trees, but the yard still looked neat.

Mike had already gone inside as she crossed the road. Now that she’d made her move, she realized she might be rushing him, but her mission overrode her manners. As she approached the porch steps, the side door opened, and Mike gave her a wave. “You must be anxious to get the leaves raked.”

She grinned back, admiring him in his dressy pants, cream-colored shirt and maroon tie. “I sneaked away without the twins noticing. I thought we’d have time to talk.”

His face sank to concern. “Did they do something?”

She waved away her words. “No, they’ve been great.” Now she questioned her plan to talk with him. “I just thought—”

His hand raised, stopping her apology. “Good thinking. Alone time is difficult.”

The weight of discomfort lightened.

“Come in while I change.” He motioned to his attire before beckoning her inside.

Although she considered going in, she had second thoughts and held up the rake. “I’ll get started.”

He cocked his head, shrugged and disappeared.

In a couple of minutes she’d made some progress, but when she heard the door close, she turned and waited for Mike to join her.

Carrying a tarp along with his rake, he used his elbow to motion toward the house. “Would you rather talk first?”

Again she fought her thoughts. His earlier reaction had given her pause. “It’s such a lovely day. Let’s get this done.”

“Okay.” He grinned as he spread the tarp on the grass and dug in.

Riddled with an image of Mike making the twenty-minute drive to the school to deal with another incident, her curiosity wouldn’t rest. “What do you do for a living, Mike?”

“I’m a supervisor at Oscoda Plastics a few miles south on U.S. 23.”

“You’re a boss?”

He gave her a sad grin. “I am there.”

His plight with the girls caused her lungs to empty. His vulnerability made him not only likable but appealing. Yet beneath his grin, Mike’s confidence sometimes buckled. Even though he tried to hide it, his dauntless effort failed. She was first drawn by his good looks, but today his kindness and gentle ways prickled up her arms. If she ever married one day, she would want a man like Mike—playful, sincere and with more patience than she could credit herself.

“You’re quiet.”

His voice jarred her thoughts and generated guilt, knowing she’d been thinking of him. “Preoccupied, I guess.” She managed a grin and dug into the leaves. “I was thinking about the girls.”

Mike’s head lowered and he combed his fingers through his hair. “I figured you’d be concerned about having them in class.”

“No, that’s not it.” His troubled expression made her wish she hadn’t introduced the topic. “I know you feel compelled to follow the principal’s suggestion to separate them, but …” She stopped raking and leaned her weight against the handle. “I suspect the girls might be worse for it. Not better.”

He slowed the rake and rested his weight against it. “I had the same thought. I picture them at recess and here at home making up for the time separated.” His look grew intense. “But I thought you’d be relieved having only one to deal with.”

“Me?” She pressed her hand against her chest. “No, not yet anyway.” She hoped to lighten the serious mood. Their conversation had drawn his lips into a straight line and stole the sparkle from his eyes. “I watched them with Grams today, and they were respectful to her and each other. I want to figure out what it is that works. I worry if they were in separate classrooms, they wouldn’t learn how to get along or how to show love instead of disrespect to each other. I’d really like a chance to work with them. At least to try.”

His eyes searched hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She cared about them. “I don’t think Mrs. Fredericks will insist on separating them. I believe she’ll leave the decision up to you.” A new thought fell into her mind. “If I can’t handle them, maybe then she’d put pressure on you to make a decision, but not now.”

His tense shoulders dropped. “If you’re positive.”

Amy wasn’t positive she could make a difference, but she was positive she wanted to try. “Yes, I am.” But Mike’s concern had been for her, and although it touched her, she preferred his focus to be what was best for the girls. Rather than stir up any more tension, she let her thought fade.

He nodded as his rake hit the leaves again.

After making a pile, Mike dragged the bundle to the backyard. Three trips with the tarp made quick work of the leaves, and soon he left the tarp behind and instead dragged the leaves directly to the pile. She longed to sit and talk about a lot of things; his wife’s death, the girls’ reactions then and how they handled it now. Instead she gave another yank of the rake.

When the girls’ squeals vibrated from behind them, she and Mike stopped raking and spun around. The twins darted toward them, but they didn’t stop. Instead they barreled past, aiming for the leaf pile.

Anticipating another disaster, Amy held her breath. But this time, they dived into different sides of the mound and came up laughing. The sight trapped her in memories. The leaves drifted into the air and scattered while her heart followed. Childhood recollections drove her limbs forward, and as she sprang toward the tempting heap, Mike flew past, scooped up leaves and pitched them at her. She grabbed a handful and dashed toward him, but as she’d swung her arm to toss the colorful ammunition, she stumbled.

Mike dived forward and grabbed for her, but he missed. Both of them tumbled into the pile while the girls giggled and tossed leaves their way.

Dazed at her antics, Amy eyed Mike lying beside her, his tousled hair tangled in burnished rubble. Her heart rose to her throat.

Mike bounded to his feet and leaned down to give her his hand. She grasped his and bolted upward into his chest. Standing nose to nose, her heart tumbling to her stomach as she gazed into his eyes.

He gave her a squeeze. “Are you okay?”

His warm breath trembled across her neck. “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. The closeness sent chills racing down her back. She managed a chuckle, trying to ignore the sensation as she brushed the debris from her jacket.

The girls darted from the pile, laughing at their disheveled appearance while pointing at the leaves caught in their dad’s hair.

Mike shook his head, color in his cheeks alerting her of his embarrassment. “Leaves seem to bring out the child in me.”

She gazed down at her jeans and jacket. “Me, too, it appears.” She evaded his eyes and looked at his leaf-entangled hair. She raised her hand and pulled some out, relishing the feel of his thick mane against her fingers.

“Thanks.” His flush subsided as he strode toward Holly. “Let’s get you cleaned off before you drag it inside.”

Amy shifted to Ivy, wanting something to distract her wavering emotions. She pulled leaves from the child’s jacket and plucked them from her ponytails. When she finished, she looked at the girls, their names ringing in her mind. “Ivy and Holly.” The girls turned and looked at her with question. “Where did you get those names?”

“From our mommy and daddy.” Ivy grinned.

“They’re Christmas names.”

Holly slipped between Ivy and Amy, a leaf still caught in her hair. “Our birthday’s on December 24.”

Amy heart clutched. “That makes sense.” She plucked the last leaf from Holly’s hair, then rested her hands on their shoulders. “Did you know there’s a song about holly and ivy?”

Holly shook her head. “Sing it.”

Instead Mike opened his mouth and the music flowed out. “The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown, of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown.”

His rich baritone voice enthralled her. “Mike, you have—” “Why does holly wear a crown?” Ivy slammed her fists into her sides.

“It’s the song, Ivy. I didn’t make up the words.” He gestured to Amy. “And apologize to Miss Carroll. She was talking and you interrupted.”

“But—”

“Apologize.”

Ivy stared at her shoes. “Sorry.”

Mike ignored Ivy’s lack of sincerity with her apology. “What were you saying?”

“You have an astounding voice.”

He flushed. “It’s been years. I don’t sing anymore.”

“But you should.”

His expression darkened for a moment before he found a grin. “Did you ever try to sing with two seven-year-olds under foot?”

Holly shook her head. “We’re not under your feet.”

He chuckled. “No, but you talk a lot.”

Ivy gave Amy’s jacket a tug. “Daddy plays the guitar, too.”

Amy’s senses twinged again. “Really?”

“Guilty as charged, but like singing, I …” He shrugged. “I haven’t touched the guitar in a long time.”

Ivy shook her head. “Sometimes at night when you think we’re sleeping, we hear you.”

He gazed at them for a moment. “You know it’s not necessary to tell everything about me, right?” He raked his hair with his fingers

“How come you don’t ever sing for us, Daddy?”

He gazed at Holly, and Amy noticed a somber look sneak to his face. “I will.” He drew her closer and then reached for Ivy. “And I’ll tell you later the story about the holly and ivy so you understand why the holly wears the crown, okay?”

The twins faces glowed.

Hope slid through Amy’s veins. Somewhere inside the two children lived joy, and if she could find the secret to what else was going on, maybe the troublesome two could become the treasured twins.

Her task settled in her mind. She’d do everything in her power to keep those girls in her class.

Mike watched Amy cross the street, her rake like a shepherd’s crook. He shuffled the girls inside wondering how he could ever explain where his heart had been for so long. Holly’s blunt question about his singing had stirred up his emotions, as did Amy’s compliment. You have an astounding voice. The words could have been Laura’s. But she’d gone to heaven, and even though he didn’t understand why the Lord wanted her, God saw the big picture. He didn’t. She’d been the motor that revved his love of singing.

Learning the girls had heard him playing the guitar served the same purpose. And Amy, too. His heart constricted. Her caring smile hovered in his mind like a melody. Just as Amy lingered in his thoughts, music couldn’t be forgotten either. It revived his spirit. Amy’s presence had done the same.

“You said you’d tell us, Daddy.”

Ivy’s voice broke his train of thought. He gazed at her sweet face and knelt on the kitchen floor, drawing the two girls into his arms. “Your mom always nagged me about singing and playing the guitar. Because she’s not here, I guess it left my thoughts.”

“Did Mom leave your thoughts?”

Holly’s troubled expression caused him dismay. “Never. I promised God to love her always, and I will, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have lots of love to share.”

“With us?”

“With you.” He paused, trying to word his next statement. “And maybe someday, I might meet someone who could be in our lives, too.”

“Like Amy?”

Ivy’s question tripped through his veins. “Someone like that. Someone who’s nice and likes both of you.”

Holly’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe Miss Carroll doesn’t like us?”

“I think she does, don’t you, Daddy?” Ivy’s response gave his answer. “Yes. She wants to keep you together in class.”

“She does?” Their eyes widened.

“Unless you cause her trouble, and then she won’t want to deal with your antics.”

Holly scrutinized him again. “What’s antics?” “Your behavior. You know, how you act up sometimes.” Ivy gave her a poke. “Like choking me.” “Or tripping me.”

“You both do things to each other. I know you still love each other, but sometimes it doesn’t seem that way to other people.” He drew the girls in closer. “Remember what you said the other day? You told me you were all you had?”

They nodded. “You need to let people see how much you mean to each other. Hurting each other and misbehaving isn’t the way to do that.”

Ivy straightened. “It’s Holly’s fault.”

He tightened his grip before a new argument began. “It’s both of your faults. And that’s enough about it. I don’t want to hear another word.”

They quieted, but he suspected each girl was working on a comeback. “Now, I’ll hand you a rake, Ivy, and I’ll get another one for Holly. Because you two were the first ones to spread the leaf pile, it’s your job to clean it up.”

“But—”

Without listening further, he handed Ivy the rake and headed to his shed. He didn’t turn around until he arrived at the storage unit and pulled out the rake. When he looked back, Holly had gotten on her knees and was dragging the leaves into the pile with her arms. Elation rippled over him. He loved seeing the girls work or play without arguing. Diving into the leaves had brightened everyone’s spirits. He hadn’t felt like that in years.

“Here you go.” He handed Holly the rake, then relieved Ivy of hers.

She didn’t argue but followed Holly’s example and tossed the leaves back into the pile. “Can we burn them?” She gazed up at him with a smile in her eyes.

“Maybe later tonight.”

“Can we make s’mores?”

He chuckled. “Not over the leaves, Holly, but maybe we can make some inside.”

Ivy licked her lips. “Can we invite Miss Carroll? I bet she likes s’mores.”

His chest tightened. “Not tonight.” He looked across the yard to Ellie’s house, wanting to include Amy in everything but cautioning himself to move slowly. To be certain. To understand his feelings and the ramifications.

He started preparing their dinner, but his mind dwelt on Amy and the delicate situation. He really liked her, but it unsettled him. Having feelings for a woman other than Laura dragged him back to his dating days. But when he’d met Laura, his interest for any other woman had faded.

After all those years, he wasn’t sure he could handle another relationship without feeling guilty. And what about the girls? Would familiarity with Amy make them too forward in school? That would never work. He pondered the idea for a moment before making a decisive decision.

He had to cool it.

Chapter Four

Amy erased the blackboard and eyed the clock. She’d noticed buses arriving, and soon the halls would be quiet. Her first day on the job had been exciting. After her layoff in Chicago, teaching again so soon had seemed a hopeless dream. Yet here she was. She settled into her desk chair and breathed in the scent of chalk, floor polish and the beguiling scent of textbooks. She grinned.

When she gazed at the empty rows of chairs, she had pictured the twins sitting close together, eyeing each other while temptation crooked a finger, but they’d been perfect. But Amy faced reality. Thinking the girls would remain perfect was definitely a lofty goal.

Grams had a way with Ivy and Holly, but her only recommendation to Amy was to love them. She heaved a sigh. Mike loved them, but that didn’t work for him.

The sound of quiet echoed in the halls—the hum of fluorescent lighting and the yawn of a distant door. She eyed the stack of papers on her desk and drew them toward her, wanting to grade them by tomorrow. She’d asked the children to write a paragraph on how they would spend Thanksgiving.

Hearing how they would celebrate the holiday could give her an inside look at their families and their traditions. Coming into the semester late meant she needed a quick way to gain insight into her students’ lives. “Miss Carroll.”

Amy jerked at the familiar voice. She eyed her watch. “Ivy, shouldn’t you be on the bus?”

Holly slipped past her sister into the room. “We missed it.”

“Missed it?” She studied both of the girls. “How did you do that?”

“Ivy went to the bathroom.”

Ivy strutted forward shaking her head at Holly. “Uh-uh. You went and I followed.”

Now what? She studied their faces, aware of what they expected. “Maybe there’s another bus going your way. Let’s go down to the office.”

“There’s not.” The too-familiar determined look settled on Holly’s face.

She ignored her. “We need to check.” She rose and strode through the doorway, hearing two sets of footsteps behind her.

When she entered the front office, Sue Murphy, the secretary, arched an eyebrow. “What are you two doing here?” “We missed the bus, because Ivy—”

“Uh-uh. It was Holly’s fault.”

“The last bus left. I’ll have to notify your driver so he doesn’t worry and then call your dad.” Sue braced her hands against the counter. “He’s not going to be very happy.”

Ivy bustled closer. “You don’t have to call our dad.”

Holly shouldered her sister out of the way. “We can ride home with Miss Carroll. She lives on our street.”

The woman peered at her. “Are you okay with this?”

She bit her lip. This was what she feared—the girls becoming too familiar and taking advantage. “Would you check with their father first?” “Certainly.”

Amy studied the twins’ eager faces, and thought of Mike being dragged home from work again. The girls often went to her grandmother’s anyway or a sitter came in until Mike arrived home. She evaded the twins’ pleading looks and focused on Sue’s telephone conversation. Watching the secretary’s head nod gave Amy her answer. Mike had agreed.

When the girls learned he’d agreed she drive them home, their faces brightened. Amy’s didn’t. Her plan to work on tomorrow’s lessons at her school desk ended with the new development.

She strode back to her room, slipped on her coat, gathered the homework papers and her planning book and then herded the twins outside. Once in the car, she faced them in the backseat. “You can’t do this everyday, girls. Some days I need to stay here and work. I’m sure you’d rather be home with a sitter or with Gramma Ellie.”

Restrained by the seat belts, Holly leaned as close as she could. “We could help you.”

Ivy nodded in agreement.

Amy started the car. “Not when I’m planning lessons and correcting papers,” Amy said. “But we could—”

“That won’t work.” Amy used her teacher’s voice. “Next time I’ll have Mrs. Murphy call your dad to pick you up.”

Ivy’s face sank. “He’ll be mad.”

“Right.” She backed her car out of the spot.

The fifteen-minute ride home remained restrained except for a few comments the girls made to each other. Amy wished she could hear because she suspected they were plotting. When she pulled into the driveway, the two tumbled out and darted to Grams’s side door. She sat a moment, determined to come up with a way to discourage their ploy from happening again.

When she stepped inside the house, voices came from the kitchen, and as she passed the door, she gave her grandmother a wave and went directly to her room. She tossed her coat on a chair and slipped off her shoes, settling her feet into her fuzzy slippers. The weather had turned cold since they’d raked on Saturday. That evening, she’d watched Mike burning leaves, and she’d longed to wander over but forced herself to stay away. And although she considered her decision wise, especially after the girls’ shenanigans today, part of her hoped that Mike would invite her over to sit with him as he monitored the fire.

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to jeopardize her teaching position or allow her heart to tangle around a widowed man and his daughters. That could easily lead to heartbreak. Plus she was certain she wouldn’t live forever in a small town. Chicago’s excitement lured her back.

Amy pulled on a sweatshirt before settling on the bed. She leaned forward and grasped the stack of papers she’d brought home. She read the first child’s paragraph relating how the family watched football on TV and he listed the Thanksgiving dinner menu. While she made a note of spelling errors, her curiosity led her to search for the twins’ papers in the pile.

Skimming Holly’s paper, her heart sank.

“Daddy takes us to Mama’s Country Kitchin for diner on Thanksgiving. Daddy says a prayer, and we say what we give thanks for. Then we have turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. Then we have punkin pie.”

A restaurant for Thanksgiving? Her throat tightened as her eyes flashed across Ivy’s paper. Better spelling didn’t brighten the message.

“On Thanksgiving, Daddy takes us out to eat, but what I wish is that we could eat at home. We did when our mom was alive. Now Thanksgiving is different. But I am happy that I have a dad who loves me. We say thank you for all good things before we eat.”

Amy brushed tears from her eyes, trying to hold back a flood of them. Her own childhood memories of Thanksgivings and Christmases came to mind, when she, too, ached for a mother in her life. As she grew older, she’d tried to concentrate on the positives in her life, but the old haunting ache remained just as it had surfaced today.

Determination pried its way into her mind. Even though she’d been set on keeping her distance with the twins, how could she when Mike and the girls ate Thanksgiving dinner in a restaurant?

Before Amy had moved to Harrisville, her grandmother often spent holiday meals with church friends, but Grams had announced this year they would celebrate at home. The glint in her grandmother’s eye made Amy realize Grams had been lonely for family. So had she for all the years living in Illinois, first with only her father and later alone in an apartment.

The papers slipped from her fingers, and Amy leaned back against the pillow, fighting heavy eyes and a heavy heart. She lowered her lids for a moment, thinking a couple minutes’ rest might refresh her after the first day of her new job.

The scent of cookies drifted into her room, and Amy bolted upward, eyeing the clock. She’d slept for over an hour. Voices penetrated her bedroom door, including a man’s voice.

Mike.

She swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and sat up. As she did, some of the papers fluttered to the floor. She rose, gathered them and tossed them on the bed. Then eyeing herself in the vanity mirror, she grabbed a comb and ran her hands through the tangles, then headed for the door.

As her hand hit the knob, a surge of apprehension swept over her as she considered talking with Grams about Mike and the girls. No one should eat Thanksgiving dinner in a restaurant. Yet she pushed the idea out of her mind for the moment and opened the door. She needed distance, or she’d face the ramifications at school.

“There you are.” Grams gave her a welcoming smile.

“I smelled the cookies.” She looked at Mike. “I didn’t realize so much time had passed.”

A crooked smile lit his face. “I like your footwear.”

She looked down at her fuzzy slippers, and her cheeks heated.

Grams gave a chuckle as she ran a spatula beneath a freshly baked cookie and set it on a plate. “What were you doing in there so long? I figured you’d be out here after the first batch of cookies.”

The question slid down her spine. “I brought home work from school. You know, papers I need to correct.”

Mike grinned. “First day on the job and you’re already correcting papers?”

“It’s a teacher’s life.” She realized the twins flanked him, their eyes wide and questioning. She’d already decided not to make an issue out of their little ploy.

“Thanks for driving the girls home.” His words rang with discouragement.

A lump formed in her throat. “You’re welcome.”

He placed a hand on the top of each girl’s head. “I told them no more missing the bus. I don’t expect you to chauffeur them home from school because they were dallying.”

“But Daddy, I told you—”

Mike held up a finger, and the girls’ opened mouths closed.

“I’ve already explained I can’t give them a ride all the time.” She pressed her lips together to stop speaking. She knew in her heart, if he needed her to, she would.

“More cookies, girls?” Grams extended the plate.

But Mike held up his hand. “I think we’ve all had enough. One more, and we won’t want dinner.”

His comment drew Amy’s attention to the girls. They had a trace of a white mustache and a few crumbs on their cheeks and lips.

Mike brushed crumbs from the front of his shirt. “We need to get home, but thanks so much for the treat, Ellie, and for watching the girls.”

“It’s always a pleasure, and don’t forget my invitation.” Her grandmother’s face glowed.

Invitation? Amy’s gaze shifted from her grandmother to Mike.

“Your home cooking beats Mama’s Country Kitchen any day of the week. Thanks for your generous offer.”

The girls bounced on their toes, their faces filled with glee.

“Can we, Daddy? Really?”

He drew closer to Holly. “If you learn to behave in school.” “I behave.”

“They were excellent in class today.” Amy gave him a tender smile.

“Good.” Mike wrapped an arm around each girl. “If they can keep that up until Thanksgiving, I’ll be pleased to accept your invitation.”

Amy’s pulse kicked up a notch. What could she do? Grams had asked, and she would deal with it. While a warmth spread through her chest, beneath her buoyant thoughts, a caution sign blinked.

Mike watched the snowflakes drift into piles against the house next door. Winter had made its appearance in time for Thanksgiving. He’d held his breath since he’d made his proclamation about the Thanksgiving invitation, but Holly and Ivy had made it through the rest of the week without incident. At least, he hadn’t been notified. He avoided putting Amy on the spot by calling her to check, even though he’d been tempted. In his heart he knew his girls’ behavior would have only been a cover for his real motive. He liked Amy—a lot.

And he marveled at how much Ivy and Holly liked her. Amy seemed innovative with their lessons. Each day after school when he arrived home from work, they gave him details of stories they read, paragraphs they’d written, games they’d played with their math problems, and how they were making a bulletin board of all their drawings of different kinds of animals they were studying. Their enthusiasm bolstered his spirit.

He rose from the kitchen table and strode to the hallway, wondering if they were awake. “Did you see the snow?”

A rustle sounded in their bedrooms, and he guessed they’d just crawled out of bed. He glanced at his watch. Nine. He could have waited. His peaceful Saturday morning always ended once the girls roused from their rooms.

Holly popped her head out the door. “Can we make a snowman?”

“First I thought we’d go out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast!” Ivy appeared in pants and her pajama top.

“Can we?” “Get ready.”

Looking forward to eating out, the twins made quick work of getting dressed, and they were all on their way in minutes. Mike drove down Main Street and pulled into the Flour Garden. Inside, he greeted the owner, Manny, as he passed through the small store filled with the scent of fresh ground coffee, then past the bakery counter, Mike found a booth along the wall. He looked out the window and watched flakes setting on the large evergreen across the street. Tomorrow it would be decorated for Christmas, and the town would gather for the tree-lighting. The event lured people from their cozy homes to listen to the music and enjoy the cookies and hot chocolate as they sang carols and joined in the festivities.

Mike pulled his gaze from the snow-covered knoll and chatted with a couple of his neighbors before he perused the menu. When Jill appeared to take their order, she offered her usual smile and patiently waited while the girls decided on their choices. Mike wondered why they took so long. They usually ordered pancakes. Today was no different.

He barely downed his first cup of coffee when the food arrived, and the twins became silent as they delved into the pancakes and drank their juice. Before Mike had time to make a dent in his meal, Holly’s voice jerked his attention.

“I’m finished.”

Mike lowered his coffee cup and eyed her plate. She had indeed gobbled down her food. “You’ll get sick eating so fast.”

“But I’m anxious to make a snowman.”

Ivy took a bite of her pancake and rolled her eyes. “You eat like a pig.”

Holly spun around and grabbed one of Ivy’s pony tails and gave it a jerk. “I do not.”

Mike held up his hand. “We don’t talk to people like that.”

Ivy started to roll her eyes again before she caught herself.

“Sorry.”

He gave Holly a pointed look. “And you don’t pull people’s hair.” His fun morning vanished like a snowman in the sun. He signaled the waitress for the bill. After she slipped the tab on the table, he snatched it off, put on his coat and trudged to the cashier.

The girls squabbled behind him, each blaming the other while he tried to close his ears. One moment he rallied, and the next moment his hopes sagged. Discouraged, he trudged outside.

The sun had slipped from behind the clouds, sending prisms of light across the fluffy flakes. Mike wished his spirit shone as bright as the landscape.

“Daddy?”

He gave Ivy a fleeting glance. “What?” “I’m sorry. I won’t call Holly a pig ever again.” He didn’t know if he should laugh or groan. “Thank you.”

“And I won’t choke Ivy anymore. I promise,” Holly mumbled.

When he looked at their hangdog expressions, his anger faded. “Why do you do this? Every time I think we’ll have a nice day, you ruin it with your horrible behavior.”

Tears brimmed Ivy’s eyes, and even Holly looked crestfallen. He knelt on the ground, the snow wetting his knees. “I don’t enjoy being upset with you. Do you know that?” He slipped his arms around them. “But you can’t keep acting like this. Instead of being proud of you both, you disappoint me, and …” His voice locked in his throat.

Instead of responding, Ivy threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “We’ll be good, Daddy.”

Holly only nodded.

He gazed at Ivy, wanting to remind her that she’d said the same thing before.

“I suppose we can’t make a snowman now.”

He rose without answering and unlocked the car’s door. After the girls slipped in, he pulled away from the restaurant still weighing his thoughts.

As he approached Third Street, he turned right. Instead of home, he headed for Harrisville State Park. For once he was doing something for himself and in the process, delayed the snowman issue. He loved seeing the untrodden snow along the breadth of the shore and the white snowfall weighing the evergreen boughs.

The girls’ muttering let him know they were curious, but neither asked where they were going. He veered into the parking area to the girls’ outcries of pleasure, and as he rolled into a spot, his heart skipped when he saw the familiar dark orange hatchback.

“Miss Carroll’s here.”

Their voices sailed to him in unison. He heard the snap of their seat belts, and their door opened as a damp chill whisked into the car. He turned off the motor and stepped outside, both curious and anxious. He’d longed to see Amy again, but he hadn’t found a good excuse. Now he didn’t need one.

The twins shot ahead of him, slipping and skittering past the pavilion filled with snow-covered picnic tables. When Amy heard them, she swung around, surprise on her face, and when her eyes met his, she smiled.

But the expression appeared strained, and he faltered. “Sorry to disturb you.” His breath billowed in a white mist.

“The park’s public.” Her smile settled to a grin. “I haven’t been to the park since I moved here, and I knew it would look lovely in the snow.”

He agreed. “We’re heading home from breakfast.”

She gazed at him in silence.

He peered at his boots ankle deep in snow and tucked his hands into his pockets. He’d forgotten his gloves in the car. Tongue-tied, he searched for something to say. Then he noticed she carried a camera. “Taking photos?”

She held it up and nodded. “I want to send a few to some friends in Chicago. They don’t see pristine settings like this very often.”

“Do you live in downtown Chicago?” Mike knew little about her except what Ellie happened to mention. “I did until I lost my job.”

Now he remembered Ellie had told him about her job. “I suppose it was difficult to leave a big city for such a small town.”

A one shoulder shrug was her response. “And leaving your friends.”

“In a way. But I wanted to spend time with Grams, so it seemed a good time to make the change. It is different here.”

Before he could learn more, she walked away, stopping to snap a few photos.

When the girls noticed her camera, they waved. “Take a picture of us.”

Holly dashed for one slide and Ivy for the other. They climbed the snow-covered stairs and plopped onto the wet top before he could stop them. Feeling the cold through his boots, he could only imagine the chill the girls felt sitting on the icy metal. Amy stood between the two slides and snapped one photo then another as they slid to the ground. Their laughter echoed in the quiet. If only his troubles could be whisked away by laughter.

Ivy skipped to Amy followed by Holly, and she let them look at the digital photographs. As he approached, Holly waved him closer. “Look at our picture.”

He tilted the camera and admired the photographs she’d taken. “Very nice.”

“In the city, we have white snow for a few minutes before it turns to gray slush. I want my friends to see how pretty the snow is here.”

Her reference to friends caused him to twinge. Maybe a man waited for her in Chicago.

Ivy nestled in between them. “We’re going to make a snowman when we get home.” She tilted her head, giving him a plea-filled look. “Aren’t we, Daddy?”

Holly eyed him, too, and his frustration waned. “That was our plan.”

To Mike’s discomfort, Ivy pressed the situation. “Want to come over and help?”

Amy rocked from one foot to the other. “I’m not sure your dad needs help.”

Holly jerked his jacket. “You do, don’t you?”

He swallowed. “A really good snowman takes a lot of talented people.”

“Then you can help us, Miss Carroll. You’re talented.”

The uneasy feeling he’d felt earlier vanished when he heard Amy’s chuckle. “How can I say no to such a compliment?”

Her smile thawed his icy thoughts while he basked in summery hopes.

Chapter Five

“I can’t believe they’re still outside.” Mike stood at the window gazing into his front yard watching the twins build a snowdog for the snowman. “They’re doing a good job.”

Amy rose and joined him at the front window. “Very creative, I’d say.”

Even though his eyes were on the girls, his senses were alive with Amy’s closeness. So near, his gaze swept across her flawless skin, her cheeks still highlighted by the crisp cold. Her pink lips smiled, soft and full.

His lungs constricted, forcing his thoughts to cool it. He closed his eyes and sucked in air. “How about some of that hot chocolate the girls talked about?”

“Sounds good.” Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, yet her gaze clung to his, and he knew they were trying to read each other but both seemed unsuccessful.

He strode to the kitchen, needing to do something to keep his mind busy. He turned on the burner beneath the teakettle and opened the cabinet to pull out the mugs.

In seconds, she followed. “Can I help?”

“This is easy.” He lifted the hot chocolate mix and pointed to the label. “Just add hot water.” But then he pointed to an upper cabinet. “You can find the marshmallows, if you want. They’re up there somewhere.”

She found them quicker than he might have and set them on the counter.

“Please, have a seat.” He motioned toward the kitchen table, needing the distance. “The water will take a couple of minutes.”

Amy shifted the chair and sat, watching him.

Silence buzzed in his ears, and he searched through his thoughts for conversation. Seeing her in his kitchen, so fresh and appealing, his tongue had tied again.

“Mike, does it bother you to talk about your wife?”

“Laura?” The question whisked through his mind. “No, not anymore.” He pulled out the chair adjacent to hers and slipped into it. “Why?”

She shrugged, a gentle expression swept over her face. “I think about the girls growing up without a mom, and I.” “You feel bad for them.”

Her eyes searched his face. “No, but I understand. I’ve been there.”

Her comment jarred him. “Really?”

“I lost my mom when I was four.”

The sadness in her eyes flooded over him. “I’m so sorry, Amy. I didn’t know.”

She shrugged again. “Things happen, and we make it through. But I remember longing to be like the other kids and having a mom as they did. My father tried so hard to be both mother and father to me, but …”

A chill prickled down Mike’s arms. He wanted to fill in the blank yet he had no words.

She finally lifted her head and her eyes captured his. “My dad tried too hard, and when he felt helpless, he gave up. I had no idea what to do, and I felt responsible. I was six or seven when I took on the burden of my dad’s failure and his unhappiness.”

Failure. Unhappiness. Six or seven. The words spilled over him, and he suffocated with the weight. Her comment buried him in thought until he managed to take a full breath.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Maybe.” Her eyes searched his. “I know you’re trying to be a good dad, but a father is all you can be. You can’t be a mother. Not really.” She reached across the space and rested her hand on his. “But that’s okay because you can be the greatest dad. That’s important.”

Overwhelmed, he struggled to grasp her words. “But how?”

“Lose the guilt.”

Memories flooded him—his talks with Laura about having a baby and her desire to wait. Why hadn’t he listened to her? He couldn’t deny his guilt. The talks with Laura were one-sided. He’d bugged her, wanting to be a dad. Wanting to be a family.

Tenderness etched Amy’s face and rent him in two.

“I do feel guilty sometimes, and I know I’ve failed them.”

“Oh, Mike.” Her hand squeezed his. “You’re a great dad. Look at today, with the snowman and out to breakfast. You dote on them, but that’s part of the problem. You can love them, but they need firm directions without you giving in to their pleading. You’re gentle, but you need to be tough. I know that’s difficult for you.”

He gave her a slow nod, understanding fully what she’d just said. “I’ve been realizing lately that I let them bully me. I give in to their demands. Holly barks, and I jump.”

“She’s a strong character, but Ivy has her way, too. She’s the clinger, just like her name. She beguiles you with her sweet, pleading face.”

He lowered his head with a chuckle. “You’re certainly observant.”

She grinned. “Teachers take a lot of psychology classes. Too bad they can’t apply it to their own problems, but it helps to understand why people behave as they do.”

That’s what Amy had been doing all along. Using her psychology training. He was the parent of two troublesome twins. Naturally she wanted to help the girls, and in the process make her teaching easier. Even though he appreciated her motivation for friendship, the reality left an emptiness in his chest.

Amy eyed him, a scowl edging out her tender look. “Mike, I’ve hurt your feelings. I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He slipped his hand from beneath hers and straightened. “You’ve helped me face reality.”

Her scowl deepened.

“I mean you gave me good advice. You’re right. I’m spoiling the girls. Real life doesn’t work that way. Not everything goes the way we want it to.” The words tore into him, and in the distance, he heard the whistling of the teakettle. He rose. But the sweetness had vanished.

When he looked at her, Amy hadn’t moved, but her face registered awareness that their mood had changed. Her expression twisted his heart.

She rose. “Maybe I should go.”

Their conversation skittered to a halt. Maybe he’d misread her comments. Trying to decipher Amy had troubled him from the start. “Please. Stay. Let’s have the hot chocolate.”

Her expression didn’t change, but she sank back into the chair.

He stirred water into the chocolate mix and popped marshmallows into the mug. “Hot chocolate cures what ails you.”

He set the mug in front of her and made a cup for himself. When he returned to the chair, he knew he had to change the subject. “Do you miss Chicago?” Despite the hot chocolate, cold anticipation washed over him.

“I love the city.” Her gaze drifted toward the back window looking out into the snowy woods behind the house. He held his breath.

“But I spent lots of time in Harrisville when Dad and I came to visit Grams. I consider this my second home.”

His own past came to mind. “I grew up in Cincinnati, but I’ve learned to love the quiet of small town living. It’s like one big family in a way.”

“It is.” Yet her eyes said something else. “Not sure I could live in a small town permanently. I worry I’d be bored.”

The response he’d anticipated sent an icy chill up his spine. If he really wanted to cool his feelings, he would want her to go to Chicago. But he didn’t.

Her gaze caught his. “But right now, unless a job offer calls me back, I’m here.”

He tried again. “Anyone special you’ve left behind?”

She shifted her gaze from his eyes, a thoughtful look spreading over her face. “No one special. Coworkers and people I’ve gotten to know in my apartment building. But friends can be found everywhere.” She locked eyes with him.

“Everywhere.” Did she refer to the twins or did she like him, too? Caution told him to change the subject. Yet he opened his mouth, a feeler comment fell out. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Amy.”

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