A Holiday To Remember. Jillian Hart

never turns out the way you expect.”

      “Or want.” They apparently had that in common. She felt so many emotions begin to work their way into words; emotions she’d not really taken out to examine in a good long time. “We get caught up in what we should do. What we ought to be. What we mean to do. It never turns out the way you intend.”

      “That’s why I love my job here, working at building things. It’s nothing like real life with tragedy and things you can never reconcile. When I sit down to make a piece of furniture, there’s only the doing of it. The feel of the wood in my hands, rough at first, then the shaping of it, the sanding and carving and finishing. If it doesn’t come out as I intended, nine times out of ten it comes out better.”

      “I wish life could be that way.”

      “Me, too.”

      Jonah wondered if she had any idea how transparent she was at that moment. Her icy career woman’s veneer was down and the wintry daylight burnished her with a silver glow. He could see the longing in her eyes for something—he didn’t know her at all, so he couldn’t guess at what that might be—before her practical side won over and the moment was gone.

      It was a puzzle what a put-together woman like Debra, who looked like she had it going on, would have to regret in life. Ben hadn’t mentioned if Debra had a husband. Jonah didn’t see a wedding ring on her slender, manicured hands. Had she suffered through a divorce? A painful marriage?

      It still amazed him that she didn’t look old enough to have a teenage daughter. She looked so young herself. Her heart-shaped face was luminous, reminding him of the female leads in those black-and-white movies—so radiant and serene, peaceful and timeless. What could a woman with so much going for her have to regret?

      He thought of his own failures, of the men he’d failed. The remembrance settled like a weight on his soul. What would she think of him if she knew?

      “Mom! Mom!” The girl had moved to the far side of the crib, kneeling down to inspect the turned legs. “I’ve got the best idea ever.”

      Debra smiled and it only made her lovelier. “I live in fear of your best ideas.”

      “But this really is the best one! You gotta come look. Please?”

      Debra pushed away from the table. “I’m going to admire your handiwork again. How long does it take for you to build something like this, from start to finish?”

      “As long as it takes to do it right.”

      “You’re not a man who bills by the hour?”

      “Only by the job.” What else could he say to that? He supposed a woman with her business background had a clear understanding of profit margins and whatnot, but he didn’t care so much. How did he say it was the reward of the job well done and to the best of his ability? It was something no one could pay him for. It was something he didn’t know how to explain.

      Mia studied him over the top of the frame. “Do you make other stuff, too? Like beds?”

      “Sure. I finished a bedroom set before this.”

      “You mean, a bed and a dresser? Really?”

      “Unbelievable, but true.”

      Mia clasped her hands as if in prayer. “Could you make one for me? Can he, Mom? Please, please, please?”

      I should have seen this coming, Debra thought as she tugged at her jacket cuffs, straightening them, giving her a chance to think. Saying no was on the tip of her tongue—they’d talked about redoing Mia’s room, but that was before she went away to school. Lately, they’d had bigger topics to discuss, like meeting Ben for the first time, the changes in their family and the changes in what they knew to be true about her mother. All the issues that seemed to tear them apart even further. The bedroom remodel had been pushed onto the back burner.

      Mia’s radar apparently was sensing weakness because she abandoned the lovely crib to grab hold of Debra’s hand. “Please? You said you’d think about new stuff for my room and that was a long time ago. I’ve been patient and everything.”

      “I know, sweet pea. We did talk about new furniture—”

      Before she could say a single word more, Mia gave a squeal of delight. “Yes! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

      Across the scuffed worktable, Jonah was grinning at her. Grinning. As if he found this to be highly amusing. It was an all-out, full-scale smile that knocked her socks off, she believed the term went. She’d never quite experienced such a reaction before. She was certain that her toes were at least tingling as the big man met her gaze.

      For a fraction of a moment, it felt as if the world stopped spinning. As if time stood still. She couldn’t explain it and before she could analyze it, Jonah tore his gaze away and pulled out a battered three-ring binder from a nearby shelf. As if nothing had happened between them, as if nothing had changed whatsoever, he went to work thumbing through the binder, holding it open in one big hand. With an economy of movement, he slipped the binder onto the table between them.

      “Here are a few snapshots of a bedroom set I’ve done in the same pattern.” He gazed at her with a knowing look, as if he knew she’d already made up her mind to get the entire set.

      Him leaning over the table to show her the page made her draw closer. So close, with only the book separating them, she could see that his eyes, which appeared black from a distance, were really a striking dark brown with flecks of gold. This close, she could see that a faint shadow clung to his jaw as if he hadn’t shaved that morning. He smelled like soap and he looked even more invincible. The strong presence that he projected intensified, and she could see the rapid beat of his pulse in his neck. There was no doubt about it, if she’d come across this man in an abandoned alley, her first reaction would be alarm. But down deep, she knew on an instinctive level that Jonah Fraser was all man, and he was a very good one.

      Why on earth was she noticing the furniture maker and not the furniture? What had come over her? Debra mentally shook herself and forced her gaze down to the plastic-covered pages where snapshots, neatly taken, displayed a breathtaking cherrywood bedroom set. Obliviously hand tooled to perfection.

      “Mia, why don’t you come look at this?” The words tumbling out of her mouth didn’t sound like hers at all. This wasn’t like her. Why? She took a step back and to the side as her daughter approached. “This should be your decision, kid. This will be your furniture for a long time to come.”

      “Wow! Cool, Mom.” Mia bounced against the table.

      Now, if only she could focus on the lovely furniture they were about to buy instead of the man towering over her. Goodness, she hadn’t been intrigued by a man romantically since Mia’s father had walked out on her. That was the day she’d closed the door to her heart and locked it for good—or for at least until Mia was grown. So what was going on?

      Quiet Jonah had opened that door to her feelings, she realized. Impossibly, in a matter of moments, he’d done what no other man had been able to do for the last thirteen years.

      Suddenly she realized it was silent and that both Mia and Jonah were staring at her expectantly. Had she missed something? Her mind scrambled to try to figure out what it could have been. The last thing she remembered was the furniture.

      It wasn’t like her to check out like that or to notice a man—any man—so strongly that she lost track of what was going on around her.

      “You don’t like the sleigh bed?” Mia asked in distress.

      “Oh, baby, I think it’s lovely.” Okay, she was back on track. She brushed her fingertip across the plastic photo-sleeve page, trying to ignore Jonah’s gaze, a brush against the side of her face.

      Had he guessed that she was curious about him? How embarrassing. There was no way she could look him in the eye now. She stared hard at the page and hoped beyond hope her voice would sound normal—or at least not so vulnerable.

      “This