A Baby In His Stocking. Hayley Gardner

crept up on them like her own personal Ghost of Christmas Future—no thanks. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t.

      “Jared won’t stay here,” she told her father’s back in a soft tone. Jared wouldn’t want to face her every day until the divorce went through, either. “Has he actually said yes?”

      “Well, to be honest,” Mack said, still scribbling, “I haven’t asked him yet. I told him to get something to eat since I had to pay some bills first before I talked to him. He’s due here shortly.” Pausing, Mack glanced up at her, then gave her an amused stare. “From the way you’re looking at me, you want either to change my mind or wring my neck. Have at it.”

      “Dad,” she said, her voice serious, “this is not a joke. This is my life. You are not going to ask him to stay in Quiet Brook. I don’t want him here.”

      “You might not, but the store needs him,” Mack said. “He’s a private detective, remember? When he finds the Grinch, all our problems will be solved.”

      Shea closed her eyes. Of course she remembered. Jared had quit the force when her father had found out that Jared’s dream was to open his own detective agency and had lent him the money. He’d already paid back the loan shortly before Christmas last year, and that had been one of the times she’d actually seen him celebrate something. He’d been so happy.

      She sighed. It was time to put her foot down where her father was concerned. “You aren’t harboring some hopes that he and I will mend our differences, are you?”

      “Even if it is Christmas,” Mack replied, then paused to lick the flap of an envelope, “heaven forbid I should waste my time wishing for that kind of miracle.”

      She knew what he meant Feeling very tired, she sank back into the easy chair.

      “Really, Shea, who better to find this troublemaker and give us back our storybook Christmas than Quiet Brook’s former hero?”

      He was referring to the time when Jared had caught their store’s thief. Even so... “Jared and storybook Christmas do not belong in the same sentence. He finds Christmas painful.”

      Mack frowned. “He told you that?”

      “Let’s just say he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in Christmas trees or Christmas Eve dinners.” Or traditions or life in a small town.

      “Maybe if he had all the fun of a Christmas in Quiet Brook, he would be,” Mack said almost gently, then rose to carry his mail out of the room.

      Shea doubted that. Jared had already told her he just didn’t see the purpose of going through it all because Christmas was for kids—which he never wanted to have.

      But now he would have to face that, willing or not, his child was on the way. She stared, unseeing, at the doorway. How on earth was she going to break it to him? And what would he do? Run?

      “A candy cane for your thoughts,” her father said, startling her. Taking the sweet, she twirled it around in her fingers but didn’t tell him what she’d been thinking in return. She couldn’t tell Mack about the baby until she told Jared. Because Mack would ask if she had. Boy, would he ask. If she procrastinated, her father might even think it was his personal responsibility to tell Jared himself. He was that kind of man.

      She couldn’t let that happen. No matter how things were between her and Jared, the news that he was going to be a father after all had to come from her, face-to-face. She supposed she would have to tell him while he was here now, however she dearly wanted to tell Mack he was going to be a grandfather as a Christmas present, and Christmas was less than two weeks away.

      “So, Shea, I can count on you working with Jared to find the Grinch?”

      Working with Jared? Wasn’t it bad enough the man was going to be in the same town? She gazed at her father, then down at the rug to hide her confusion. Could she be around the cool, indifferent man Jared had become for days, knowing that he didn’t care enough about her to try to change for the sake of love?

      It hurt too much, and she didn’t want that hurt intermingling with her joy about the baby. She drew in a long breath. “I don’t want him here, Dad.”

      “Hmm,” Mack said, his weathered forehead wrinkling. “Well, sweetheart, I’m going to have to overrule you here. You might manage the store, but I still own it. If you don’t cooperate with me, I’ll just lay you off for the whole time Jared’s here. Then you won’t have to deal with him.”

      “So you’re saying if I cooperate, I have to be around Jared, and if I don’t cooperate, I lose my job?” Her mouth pursed as she was caught between amusement and just a little bit of exasperation at how easily he had boxed her in. “I hate you when you act like a boss.” Only half-teasing, she added, “And like an interfering old—”

      “Keep it up,” Mack warned, “and I’ll lay you off indefinitely.”

      Under her breath, she groaned. She couldn’t lose this job. She was all set to give her child the perfect life she’d had growing up in Quiet Brook—-except for the father part of it, she guessed. But more important than that, she couldn’t let her father fire her because he would take her place. If he resumed the full workload she was now handling, he might end up like her grandfather had—clutching his chest, collapsing and dying before her eyes, and there’d been nothing she could do to help him. She couldn’t let that happen.

      “If you really think he can get rid of this Grinch, who am I to ruin Christmas for everyone?” She shrugged her shoulders and then gave Mack a soft smile. Since she was manager, all she really would have to do to avoid Jared was to delegate. Issue him his orders at the beginning of the day, then follow up later. With any luck, she shouldn’t have to be around him more than once or twice a day until he found the Grinch.

      She just hoped that was as easily done as thought. As she unwrapped the candy cane, she gave a sideways glance out the window—still no Jared—and then glanced at her father.

      “You’re awfully quiet suddenly,” she said.

      “I was just thinking,” Mack started slowly. “Maybe you could use some of that Christmas spirit of yours to convince Jared to play Santa. It would give the two of you something to do while you watch for the Grinch to reappear. Who knows, it might even be good for him.”

      Jared playing Santa all day, seeing and relearning the joy and wonder of the holiday through the eyes of children? The idea brought a twinge of hope to Shea’s heart, and she put the candy cane down beside her as she considered it.

      If she could show Jared just what he’d been missing—the warmth, spirit and traditions of a Christmas in Quiet Brook as well as the fun—maybe she could get him to understand where she’d been coming from. He might even feel some of the things she did about close family ties and loving relationships, and then be in a better position to enjoy his child when it came.

      Oh, she knew better than to expect he would change and want everything she did, and without that happening, she didn’t think they could rekindle the love they’d once shared. But his having a merry Christmas in Quiet Brook could really only help him—and her baby—couldn’t it?

      She interlaced her fingers and gazed down at her tummy. With Jared wanting to let her go, it wouldn’t be easy, but inside her, a tiny bit of hope curled up right next to her baby somewhere under her heart.

      

      Once Mack’s receptionist told Jared that his fatherin-law was waiting for him at his home, Jared headed back down the escalator, scowling at the thought of what his friend might really be up to by dragging him around Shea. He nodded grimly at any number of people who wished him a merry Christmas until finally he didn’t bother looking at anyone anymore. Christmas had ceased being important to him long ago—and right now, he had other things on his mind. Like Shea. Like letting her go for her own good.

      Dodging three youngsters running amuck through the aisles, he bumped into a cardboard display of Santa. Both the decorations and the kids were