Her Holiday Hero. Margaret Daley

to the window and saw the delivery guy from the grocery store. Using his cane, he covered the distance to the door at a quick pace and let the young man in.

      “Hi, Mr. Tanner. I’ll put these on the counter in your kitchen.”

      While Morgan took the sacks into that room, Jake retrieved his wallet from his bedroom and pulled out some money for a tip then met the guy in the foyer. “Thanks. See you a week from tomorrow.”

      “I’m off next Thursday. A big game at school. Got to support our Trojans.”

      “When will you be working next week?” Jake handed him the tip.

      “Friday afternoon and evening.” Morgan stuffed the money into his pocket.

      “Then I’ll call my order in for that day.”

      “You don’t have to. Steve delivers when I don’t.”

      Jake put his hand on the knob. “That’s okay. Friday is fine. I’ll have enough to tide me over until then.” He was used to Morgan. The young man did a good job, even putting his meat and milk into the refrigerator for him. He didn’t want a stranger here. Jake swung the front door open for Morgan to leave.

      “Sure, if that’s what you want.” The teen left.

      When Jake moved to close the door behind Morgan, he caught sight of Emma and a black and brown German shepherd coming up the sidewalk. He couldn’t very well act as if he wasn’t home, and there was no way he would hurt her by ignoring the bell since she’d seen him. But company was not what he wanted to deal with at the moment.

      Then his gaze caught the smile that encompassed her face, dimpling her cheeks and adding sparkle to her sky-blue eyes as though a light shone through them. He couldn’t tell her to go home. He’d see her for a few minutes then plead work, which was true. He had a paper due for his doctorate program.

      “Hi. How are you doing today?” Emma stopped in front of him, presenting him with a plate covered with aluminum foil. “I brought a thank-you gift. Brownies—the thick, chewy kind. I hope you like chocolate.”

      “Love it. How did you know?”

      “Most people do, so I thought it was a safe dessert to make for you. I love to bake and this is one of my specialties.”

      “Thanks. You and my neighbor ought to get together. Marcella is always baking,” he said, with the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin, her own smile affecting him.

      “And bringing you some of it?”

      “Yes.” He stared into her cheerful expression and wanted to shout there was nothing to be upbeat about, but something nipped his negative thoughts—at least temporarily. Her bright gaze captured him and held him in its grasp.

      Since Saturday, he’d been plagued with memories of their meeting that day. He’d even considered going to her house and seeing how Josh was. He only got a couple of feet from his porch before he turned around. They were strangers, and she didn’t need to be saddled with a man—even as a friend—who was crippled physically and emotionally.

      Jake stepped away from the entrance. “Come in. I have to put away the rest of my groceries.” For a few seconds, panic unfolded deep inside him. He was out of practice carrying on a normal conversation with a civilian after so many years in war-conflicted areas. Sucking in a deep breath, he shoved the anxiety down.

      As she passed him, a whiff of her flowery scent wafted to him—lavender. His mother used to wear it. For a few seconds he was thrust into the past. He remembered coming into the kitchen when his mom took a pan of brownies out of the oven. The aromas of chocolate and lavender competed for dominance in his thoughts, and a sense of comfort engulfed him.

      Emma turned toward him with that smile still gracing her full mouth. It drew him toward her, stirring other feelings in him. He’d had so little joy in his life lately. That had to be the reason he responded to a simple grin.

      “It’s this way.” He limped ahead of her through the dining room and into the kitchen.

      “I like this.” Emma put the plate on the center island counter. “It’s cozy and warm. Do you cook?”

      “No, unless you call cooking opening a can and heating up whatever is in it. My meals aren’t elaborate. A lot of frozen dinners.” Jake’s gaze landed on the German shepherd. Beautiful dog to go with a beautiful woman, but why did she bring the animal with her? Had his strange behavior the other day scared her somehow? When a panic attack took hold of him, it was hard for him to do much about it, which only made the situation worse.

      “That’s a shame. You need to come to my house one evening. I love to cook when I have the time.”

      “What keeps you so busy you can’t cook very often?” Jake asked, resolved to stay away from any topic about him as he began emptying the sacks on the countertop. Focus on her. A much safer subject to discuss.

      “Training dogs, working a full-time job at the animal hospital and trying to raise a child who’s giving me fits.”

      “Things aren’t any better?”

      “No. The Cold War has been declared at my house. He didn’t appreciate my talking to his teacher.”

      Jake whistled. “Yep, that will do it.”

      “Are you taking his side? Are you saying I shouldn’t have talked with his teacher about his being bullied?”

      Jake threw up his hands, palms outward. “Hold it right there. I am not taking anyone’s side. That’s between you and your son.”

      “I could use your help with this situation.”

      He scanned the room, looking for a way out of the kitchen and this conversation. He didn’t want to be in the middle between a mother and son. “I don’t know the boys who ganged up on Josh.”

      “But you saw them. Can you describe the culprits? Even one of them?”

      “Maybe the smallest kid. Brown hair, brown eyes.”

      “Good. Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil?”

      “Yes, but...” Staring at the determination in Emma’s expression, he realized the quickest way to get rid of her was to give her what she wanted—at least the little he knew. He crossed to the desk under the wall phone and withdrew the items requested.

      Emma took them. “I love to draw. If you tell me what he looks like, I’ll try to sketch a portrait of him. Brown hair and eyes as well as a small frame fit a lot of kids in Cimarron City. So let’s start with what shape his face is—oval, oblong, heart shaped? Is his jaw square, pointy, round?”

      Staring at the dog sitting near the back door, Jake rubbed his day-old beard stubble. He’d forgotten to shave this morning. He was doing that more lately. When he glanced down at his attire, he winced at the shabby T-shirt and jeans with several holes in them. If someone who didn’t know him walked in right now, that person would think Jake was close to living on the street. Suddenly he saw himself through Emma’s eyes. And he didn’t like the picture.

      The military had taught him always to be prepared and to keep himself presentable. Lately he’d forgotten his training. The least he could do was change clothing. He wouldn’t shave because her visit was impromptu, and he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression—that he cared. He knew better than to care, not with the upheaval in his life.

      “Your visit has taken me by surprise. I’ll be back in a minute.” He gestured to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I have a large, fenced backyard if you want to put your pet outside. A big dog like that probably requires a lot of exercise.” He wanted to add: I won’t hurt you. I’m only hurting myself.

      “That’s great.”

      As she walked to the back door, Jake slipped out of the kitchen and hurried to his bedroom. He felt encouraged she wasn’t afraid of him since she was putting her German