His Mistletoe Family. Ruth Logan Herne

to-go containers, added dipping sauce, a pack of M&M’s and a juice box.

      Haley’s eyes went round. She tripped over her words. “Um, we have drinks at home. The nuggets alone are fine, really. I, um...”

      He ignored her protests, opened the panini press and smiled. No big mess, and the sandwich looked great. He flipped it onto the counter, cut it in half with a very manly carving knife, then slipped the grilled sandwich into a foam box for her, with a side of chips, her own miniature bag of M&M’s and an empty cup for a drink.

      “Oh, I—”

      He handed the cup to Tyler. “Can you help Aunt Haley get a drink, please?” He turned his attention back to Haley. “I’m guessing she wants a Diet Coke.”

      She looked trapped and torn, but she followed Tyler to the soda bar, helped him hold the cup while she filled it, then let him assist again while they put a lid on it. She bent low and met Tyler’s eye. “Can you carry this for me, please?”

      He nodded, looking less combative and more self-confident. “Yes, ma’am.”

      Military manners, thought Brett. Polite. With good eye contact. Pretty impressive for a five-year-old.

      Haley straightened, grabbed out a wallet and started fishing for a card. Brett raised his hands, holding her off. “No charge on that tonight, ma’am.”

      She stopped. Stared. Then shook her head and extended the card anyway.

      Brett stepped back, steadfast. “No charge.”

      “But—”

      “Just my way of welcoming the two newest citizens of Allegany County into the area.”

      “But what will Charlie say?”

      Brett didn’t choke. Obviously she thought Charlie and LuAnn owned the Crossroads. And her assumption was understandable because he’d kept to himself. When he wasn’t helping his mother. Or working with the fire department.

      The store was his post-army investment property. The mom-and-pop mini-store had transformed into a lucrative enterprise as Allegany County’s economic woes diminished. Their recovery might be sluggish mid-winter, but the rest of the year? An upswing in business fed the cash register with a steady rise in income.

      And after living on service pay minus careful investments for twenty-five years, Brett saw nothing wrong with a raise in salary.

      He’d hired others to handle the store from the beginning, but being here today? Seeing the people, handling the orders, running the register for long hours? His hands-on involvement made him feel like he was part of something again. Between the Thanksgiving dinner yesterday and today’s crazy-paced business, he’d felt fully involved in life for the first time in, well... too long. And he liked the feeling. “I’ll fix it with Charlie.”

      She opened her mouth to argue and he fought the urge to silence her with two broad fingers against those sweet lips, just to see if she felt as good as she looked. Something told him she would. Common sense and decorum held him back. “It’s fine. I promise.”

      Her heartfelt smile said she caved and the quick sheen of tears meant he’d touched a raw spot. “Go.” He pointed toward the door. “Head home. Eat. Sleep. Tomorrow will be better.” He dropped his gaze and winked at the two little camouflage-clad boys. “I promise.”

      “You have kids, Mr....?”

      “Brett,” he told her. He came around the counter and swung the door wide for them. “And no, I don’t.” The old stab of pain hit him mid-section, but without the usual gut-punch force. “Not married.” He added that just in case she wondered. Maybe hoping she wondered. “But I was one, so I’ve got a pretty good take on things. Food. Play. More food. Bed.”

      “Thank you, Brett.”

      His heart stuttered as a seed of contentment nudged its way in. The way she said his name, kind of slow. Soft. The look of gratitude she sent him, that maybe said something more unless his skills had rusted from disuse.

      “Come on, fellas. Let’s get you home.” She set the food on the passenger-side front seat, piled the boys into the car with greater ease than she’d displayed yesterday, and watched as Tyler tucked her cup into the cup holder. “Good job.”

      Her approval evoked the boy’s smile, still tentative, but there.

      Baby steps, Brett decided. He knew that regimen, all right.

      He watched her pull away, then stared with surprise when she angled the car left, then right and pulled into the far right lot alongside the cooperative. A light blinked on in the back of the original furniture store. Then another.

      She lived in the recently approved apartment behind the old furniture store. How had he missed that?

      Then another thought occurred, bringing back her conversation yesterday, her concern, the money issues, the time constraints.

      He let his gaze wander Bennington Station, the new “Street of Shops”-type shopping experience enjoying a grand opening month to beat the band. Realization struck hard and deep.

      She was Haley Jennings, Frederick Bennington’s granddaughter, the mastermind behind the burgeoning enterprise spearheading new business opportunities and success in this corner of Allegany County.

      And he was slated to do her fire safety inspection Monday morning.

      The lights blinked, mocking him, as if daring him to find something wrong on Monday. Like she needed anything else on her plate right now.

      But as interim inspector, the job was his while Bud Schmidt recovered from cancer surgery, and until then...

      Haley Jennings would have to contend with him. He could only pray none of her merchants or subcontractors had messed up, but Brett knew the score. In the height of holiday shopping frenzy, everyone tried to use as much space as possible to promote themselves and their products. Improperly wired lighting displays, blocked exits, windows that wouldn’t open with the rain or snow...

      All things that could spell disaster. People hurt. Lives lost. Too often a little caution could have provided a totally different outcome.

      He ground his jaw and wondered how he’d missed her presence all these months, but the reality of that bit hard.

      He’d been hiding, plain and simple. And the time for seclusion was over.

      Chapter Three

      Haley’s cell phone buzzed as she clicked the bedroom door shut, wondering if little boys should bathe every night.

      She hoped not.

      She withdrew the phone, saw LuAnn’s name and quickly answered. “LuAnn, hi. How’s everything? Is Jess okay? And Shelby Rose? Is she doing fine?”

      LuAnn’s laugh held a hint of question. “Jess is fine, Michaela’s excited, the baby’s beautiful and has a healthy set of lungs just like her mother. How did you find out about her? I didn’t want to call you at work because I knew how crazy today would be.”

      “Brett told me.”

      “Brett told you?” Surprise hiked the older woman’s voice.

      “The boys weren’t exactly cooperative today, and by the time I got Rory home, they were starving. All those nice leftovers you provided for us yesterday? They won’t touch them. And by eight o’clock at night, I was too tired to fight it and not mean enough to starve ’em.”

      “So you stopped at the Crossroads for food.”

      “Brett made them nuggets and fries.”

      “He... What?” LuAnn’s surprise pitched higher. “We don’t have chicken nuggets at the Crossroads.”

      “I know.” Haley breathed a sigh as she sank into the corner of her “new” resting place. She’d given the