I'll Be Home for Christmas and One Golden Christmas. Lenora Worth

      “Your child?” Henny asked.

      “Yes. My oldest. I’m not sure about her temperature, but she feels awfully hot.”

      Henny whirled around. “There’s a thermometer around here somewhere. Nicky won’t let me use it on him anymore.”

      A smile slipped across Myla’s face. In spite of her concern for Jesse, she couldn’t resist the mental image of the stout Henrietta chasing a snarling Nick around with a thermometer.

      Nick’s scowl went a few grooves deeper. “She still thinks of Lydia and me as her babies.” He gestured for Myla to sit down. “Does Jesse need anything else?”

      Myla appreciated the warmth in his words, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t think so. Just rest and good food. If you don’t mind, I’ll feed them breakfast before we leave.”

      He looked down at the table. “I put in another call to my sister. You can’t take chances with this weather.”

      “No, I wouldn’t do that to Jesse. I appreciate your letting us stay here, Mr. Rudolph.”

      “Call me Nick.”

      “Okay.” Myla sensed, knew, he couldn’t wait to be rid of them. “I’m sorry we’ve disrupted your life.”

      “It’s no problem,” he said. “Did you sleep all right?”

      “Yes, we all did until Jesse started coughing.”

      Myla wouldn’t tell him that she’d tossed and turned in spite of the warm, cozy room and the enormous bed. She felt so alone, so out of place in this grand old house. But she was certainly thankful that they hadn’t had to spend the night in the car.

      When she looked up, Nick’s gaze softened. “Don’t worry about your daughter. If she’s sick, we’ll get her to a doctor.”

      “Thank you.”

      Henrietta burst through the swinging door from the kitchen, a bottle of pills in one hand and a thermometer in the other. “How old’s the child?”

      “Eight.”

      “Half a tablet, then. And I’ll fix her up some of my special hot lemonade with honey to help get that down. The lemons—good for a cold.” She turned to strut back to the kitchen, then whirled to face Nick. “Oh, Nicky, I almost forgot. Are you sure you and Lydia can handle things tonight?”

      Nick looked confused, his gaze moving from Myla to his housekeeper. “Tonight? What’s going on tonight?”

      “Your dinner party,” Henny said with arms akimbo. “Don’t tell me you forgot to call the temp service. You told me not to worry about a thing, that you and Lydia would take care of calling someone to fill in for me.”

      Nick sat up, realization hitting him. “You mean my sister and I are in charge of…kitchen duty?”

      Henrietta shook her head. “I knew you weren’t listening to me the other day.” She shot Myla a knowing look. “A one-track mind, that one. If it don’t have to do with oil, he don’t want to deal with it.”

      “I guess I wasn’t listening,” Nick agreed. “And I think we’d better round up someone to take care of that. We both know Lydia’s as useless in the kitchen as I am.”

      The housekeeper mumbled something about preoccupied executives, then explained, “It’s too late to call the temp service. They’re booked through Christmas, I imagine.” Looking disappointed, she asked, “You want me to stay?”

      Myla listened, then squeaked, “I can do it.” When both Nick and Henrietta looked at her as if she’d gone daft, she wanted to drop through the tapestry rug underneath her feet. But this would be a good way to pay Nick back for his help, and it would make her feel a whole lot better about things. “I can cook. I can do whatever needs to be done.” When Nick kept staring at her, she rushed on. “Well, if I’m going to stay here all day anyway, I can’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs. I’d like to help, to pay you back for your kindness.”

      Henny smiled from ear to ear. “Well, now, isn’t that a nice gesture on your part, honey.”

      “I’ll pay her, of course.” Nick gave Henny a sharp look, then turned a questioning glance at Myla. “Do you have experience with this sort of thing?”

      Myla didn’t tell him that she’d once been considered the best hostess in her neighborhood. That had been one of her husband’s demands, along with all his other demands. Instead she said, “I’ve been in charge of dinner parties before, yes. Henrietta can show me where everything is.” Lifting her chin, she added, “And I could use the money.”

      She watched as Nick weighed his options, hoping for this reprieve, this time out of the cold. Finally, he spoke.

      “Well, I certainly don’t have time to find anybody else. Okay, you’ve got the job. But I expect everything to run smoothly—and that means making sure your children—”

      “They’ll stay out of your way,” Myla said. “I promise.”

      “Good.” He turned to Henny. “After breakfast, you can get things settled up between you.”

      “You’re the boss,” Henrietta said, smiling to herself as she ambled into the kitchen.

      Nick watched her, and Myla saw the doubt clouding his features. Wanting to reassure him, she said, “Don’t worry. I can do whatever needs to be done. I want to help and I won’t let you down.”

      “That’s good,” he contended, “since I’m trusting you alone in my house.”

      Not liking his tone, she retorted, “I’m a Christian, Mr. Rudolph. I won’t steal anything if that’s what you’re implying.”

      “I wasn’t implying anything. And I certainly didn’t mean to insult you.”

      Seizing the opportunity, Myla rushed on. “Then you might consider letting me fill in for Henrietta. I could work for you until she gets back from her trip.”

      That got his attention. “I hadn’t planned on a long-term replacement. I don’t go all out for the holidays.”

      “That’s a shame,” she countered. “Christmas is such a beautiful, blessed time of year.”

      “I don’t like Christmas,” he insisted. “In fact, this dinner party tonight is more of an obligation to my clients than a celebration.”

      “Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate?” she had to wonder out loud. “The birth of the Savior is a joyous time.”

      He didn’t give her the answer she wanted. Instead, he said, “Henny’s planning to be gone until the first of the year. Are you willing to work through Christmas?”

      Myla was glad, but surprised that he wanted her to stay that long. She needed a job, but hadn’t counted on this becoming a long-term arrangement. This would give her some time, though, and a safe place for her children. “A month? That would help us get a good start on the new year.”

      Nick’s next words were dusted with doubt. “And, it would solve both of our predicaments—you need a job, I need a good worker.”

      “What about my children? You obviously don’t want them underfoot.”

      “We’ll get them enrolled in school. You were planning on doing that, weren’t you?”

      Resenting his superior attitude, she retorted, “I hadn’t thought past getting them to a warm bed.”

      Nick countered. “Hey, it was your idea. After Christmas you can take the money you’ve earned here and do whatever you like. This is a sensible solution for everyone concerned.”

      Myla had to agree. “So you’re asking me to stay here and work for you for the next few weeks?”

      He