The Secret Christmas Child. Lee Tobin McClain

maybe she would, because walking through the barn door was none other than Gabby herself.

      He couldn’t school his face in time. All the hurt, anger and disbelief must have shown, right along with the intense attraction he still felt.

      She stopped walking toward him as if repelled by his powerful emotions.

      He didn’t need Tammy to see this interaction and spread it all over town. “My office is in here,” he said gruffly. He turned and walked inside, almost hoping she wouldn’t come along.

      Only when he sat down behind his big, messy metal desk did he see that Gabby had followed him, but she stood in the doorway as if she wasn’t sure she dared to enter. “Nana didn’t tell you it was me, did she.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

      He shook his head, straightening papers on his desk as he tried to compose himself.

      Nana had set him up, telling him she had the perfect candidate to fill the job he so desperately needed to fill.

      But Gabby had known whom she’d be working for, obviously. “Why’d you come?” he asked her. “I wouldn’t think you’d want to work for me.”

      She was still standing in the doorway, gripping the edge of the frame, eyes wide and vulnerable. “Um, I really need a job while I’m in town. Nana said you were hiring and wanted to talk to me. Obviously, she was wrong. I’ll go.”

      She half turned, and only then did he realize she’d dressed up; beneath her heavy parka, she was wearing nice blue pants and a white shirt, boots with a little heel. Her normally wild hair was tamed back into a bun.

      She wanted the job. She was trying.

      Since she’d made an effort, he should at least talk to her. A courtesy interview. It would be good for him, get him used to the fact that Gabby might be around for a few weeks. “Wait a minute,” he said, and pulled out a chair for her. “Have a seat. We might as well see this through for Nana’s sake.”

      She looked at him for a moment, shook her head. “Don’t patronize me,” she said, her voice low. “If you aren’t going to consider me, I’ll leave.”

      He didn’t answer that because he didn’t know how. “The kids are a handful,” he said instead. “I need someone to work with them.”

      “You know I was working on a degree in education before...” She trailed off.

      Before what? he wondered, but didn’t ask. He’d admired her interest in teaching, her determination to get a college degree; it was part of why he hadn’t pushed to get married or even engaged right after high school. He’d known that was the right thing to do when she’d been so happy about her studies the summer after her freshman year, during the friendly get-togethers that they’d kept nonromantic by mutual agreement.

      After her sophomore year, when he’d been getting ready to go overseas, he’d had more trouble holding his feelings in check. He’d asked her for a commitment and she’d agreed.

      And then he’d left, and everything had changed.

      Shouts, barks and the sounds of a scuffle came from the barn. “Reese!” Tammy called. “Help!”

      Reese was up and jogging past Gabby before Tammy finished speaking. “Be right back,” he called over his shoulder.

      In the middle of the barn, two of his more complicated charges were squared off and circling, both faces twisted in anger. The problem was, David was tiny, and Wolf, as he liked to be called, was huge. Between them sat a Doberman, looking back and forth while they shouted at each other.

      “I can’t handle these kids,” Tammy said. “If nobody has raised them right...”

      And that was exactly why he didn’t want to hire Tammy in a permanent capacity. She had such a negative attitude toward the kids.

      He waded in, putting a hand on Wolf’s shoulder because he was the big one, holding up his other arm to keep David back.

      “Get that thing away from me!” David reared back from Reese’s hook-hand prosthetic.

      Reese couldn’t help the flush that came up his face. He was getting used to the amputation, a little bit, but to a kid it had to be pretty horrific.

      “Dude, he’s, like, a war hero, shut up!” one of the other boys said, and that made Reese flush even more.

      “Yeah!”

      “What’s wrong with you—aren’t you an American?”

      More boys chimed in and a couple of them advanced on David. This was why Reese needed an assistant; Wolf was straining toward David now, too, and it took most of Reese’s strength to hold him back.

      Tammy stood, back pressed against the side of the barn, arms crossed protectively over herself. No help there.

      “Okay, everyone.” Gabby’s brisk, matter-of-fact tone stopped the boys whose arms were raised to attack David. “Pretty sure Reese is going to give you some hard homework if you get into a fight. Break it up.”

      She was five-two and couldn’t have weighed much more than one hundred pounds, but she had calm authority in her voice, and she walked right in between David and the other boys.

      Even Wolf stopped pushing at Reese and tilted his head to one side, watching her.

      “Anybody willing to give me a tour of the facilities?” she asked. “I’d like to see the dogs.”

      There was a moment’s silence. Gabby maintained eye contact with first one boy, then another, until she’d worked her way around the hostile circle without saying another word.

      All of a sudden, several of the boys volunteered to show her around, and the rest of them trooped along, leaving Reese free to settle Wolf on one side of the barn and David on the other. He found out what the dispute had been about and gave them both chores.

      Then he watched morosely as Gabby talked and laughed with the boys, seeming completely comfortable as she knelt to look at each dog, asked questions and really listened to the answers.

      Tammy pulled herself together and set out breakfast rolls, fruit and juice at the long table at one end of the barn, and that drew all of the boys to focus. She turned on the inspirational podcast they always listened to as they ate, and Reese gestured Gabby back into his office.

      It didn’t seem right to be angry about what she’d done, now that his cousin was gone. It was just that seeing her had brought back all the memories of what he’d hoped for, back when he’d been young and naive, thinking the world was basically a good place and that things would get better once he was grown up and free from his aunt and uncle’s house.

      “Nice kids,” she said, her hand on the back of the chair in front of his desk. “But I assume you don’t want me to work for you.”

      “You were good with the boys,” he said.

      “I like kids.” She shrugged. “Plus, I get what it’s like to be the one who gets in trouble.”

      “I’m sure you do.” When Gabby had arrived in Bethlehem Springs in the fifth grade, the word was that she’d gotten sent to the principal’s office most days.

      She’d settled down by the time he’d arrived in middle school. He’d acted out some, too—you could hardly help it when you’d lost your parents suddenly and moved into a new school and a family who didn’t much want you.

      That was why he’d latched on to the job with this grant-funded program as soon as he’d been cleared to work. He felt like he understood boys who were struggling. The fact that the grant funding was running out was currently his biggest worry. “Listen,” he said, “it’s probably not a good idea long term, but I need help pulling this Christmas Camp together. Starting next week, all the boys will be here full days, and like you just saw, I can’t handle them alone. If you’re willing, I’d like