A Weaver Holiday Homecoming. Allison Leigh

school hadn’t come cheaply.

      She would be paying off her student loans for some time to come.

      “That’s when the school and I decided to start her off here in third grade,” she finished. “So far, she’s keeping up with no problem at all.”

      “Sarah Scalise her teacher?”

      Was Weaver so small that a single man with no children would know that? Her mind veered off much too easily. Maybe he’d even dated the attractive teacher. “Yes.”

      “She’s my cousin.”

      She was appalled at the relief that flooded through her. Her interest in the man was supposed to be only because of Chloe. Not…not—

      “What are your plans tomorrow?”

      Her runaway thoughts screeched to a halt. “Um, nothing much. More unpacking. And Chloe is becoming anxious that we won’t ever get around to getting a Christmas tree, so I imagine I’ll have to find a tree lot somewhere.”

      “Folks around here cut their own trees,” he said.

      Her lips parted, dismayed. “Like with a saw?”

      His blue eyes suddenly lit with amusement, and years seemed to fall away from his face. “That’s the usual method,” he said, only slightly tongue-in-cheek.

      Safely hidden behind her back, Mallory’s hands curled. She smiled weakly.

      The corner of his lips lifted a little more. The flash of white teeth was brief, but it was still there, when he actually smiled. “Never cut a Christmas tree yourself?”

      “Right up there with fixing plumbing leaks, I’m afraid.”

      He pushed off the bed and walked toward her. Her spine pressed hard against the doorjamb as she looked up at him when he stopped next to her.

      There was plenty of space between them, but her heart rate nevertheless took off like an award-winning marathoner. The only time she’d felt anything remotely similar was the first time she’d delivered a baby. Not even with Brent, her one foray into romance while she’d been a resident, had she been so affected.

      His gaze roved over her face and she swallowed hard, afraid he’d hear the pulse roaring in her ears.

      “I’ll pick you and Chloe up at noon,” he said, and the amusement was gone from his face as if it had never been there. “That oughta give us plenty of time.”

      “Time,” she repeated faintly.

      “To find you a tree,” he said flatly, and walked out into the hall. He didn’t look back.

      For so long, Mallory had been certain that finding Chloe’s father was the right thing to do.

      But just then, watching Ryan head down the stairs as if the devil were at his heels, she realized she wasn’t certain of anything.