His Holiday Heart Page 12

  “Yes, baked beans.” Gran looked quite pleased. “Why don’t we fix the ham? That would go quite nicely together. Oh, there’s Kelly. Kelly, dear, will you and that handsome husband of yours be joining us?”

  Lucy heard nothing more. Over the top of his stepmother’s head, Spence was grinning at her, unguarded and amused. She remembered how cozy it had felt sharing an evening at home with him. Their online chat had made her laugh and laugh. Maybe it was the two pieces of cake she’d had, but she felt brighter simply because he was near.

  “I’ll wait outside,” he mouthed, gesturing with his thumb toward the door. He exited as quietly as he had come in.

  Lucy barely remembered saying her goodbyes to the McKaslin women or the gift bag of goodies Katherine pressed into her hand as they hugged. The very pregnant Katherine glowed with excitement, and she looked well enough to be up running around. It was hard to believe she was high risk. All the prayers were helping. Lucy gently thanked her and headed toward the door.

  Torrential snowfall battered her. Husbands were showing up now, lovingly arriving to pick up their wives. Ava’s strapping husband was accompanied by a golden retriever that bounced happily at his side. Aubrey’s quiet husband was standing beside their SUV, in conversation with Caleb and Rebecca’s fiancé, Chad. Jack, the man of the house, was finishing up another pass with the snow shovel while Spence was sprinkling deicer on the walking surfaces. He didn’t look up as she approached, although she caught the hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth.

  He was aware of her, just as she was aware of him. Her spirit felt tingly as she went on by. She could not be falling for Spence. As wonderful as he was, he was not the kind of man she was looking for. He was too emotionally closed off. He was too harsh. He was a man who kept his loved ones at an arm length’s and everyone else much farther.

  But did her heart listen? No. Her heart saw all his goodness, every strength and every asset.

  “Hi, Lucy.” Brice, Ava’s husband, nodded a greeting. “Rex, down—”

  “I don’t mind.” Lucy laughed as the big retriever launched up and laid his front paws on her shoulders. His warm doggy tongue slapped across his cheek and loving brown eyes glowed at her adoringly. “Hi there, handsome guy.”

  Rex wagged his tail, gave her another dog kiss and loped through the snow in the flower beds to greet the next woman exiting the house.

  It was Spence’s grandmother. The big man put down his work and came to her side. Everything about him changed as he offered the frail lady his arm. He was no longer iron and granite but gentlemanly kindness.

  Lucy waded into the snow toward her car, and her heart gave one big sigh. A glimpse of the real Spence McKaslin, she thought. Mystery solved.

  Chapter Eleven

  Waiting for Spence was killing her. Lucy kept looking over her shoulder every two seconds to peer down the hospital hallway. If she kept this up, she was going to get whiplash. It was merely curiosity, she told herself, not because she was sweet on the man. And it certainly was not because she couldn’t wait to see him.

  “This is a welcome contribution.” Ellen, one of the floor nurses, took the first movie out of the bag Lucy had brought. She showed it to the other two nurses standing behind the counter. “There has to be a dozen Christmas movies here. Oh, the kids are going to love these.”

  “Good. Maybe it will help make this a more normal Christmas season for them, even if they are here.” The back of her neck tingled, and she whirled around. Spence stepped out of the men’s restroom wearing a Santa suit and a scowl.

  “I look lame.” He tugged at the furry white collar.

  He looked like a dream, a big masculine man doing a favor for the kids. He looked like a Christmas wish all wrapped up in red satin. Her spirit ached with hopes she dared not give life to. Wanting him to be right for her would not make it so.

  She walked toward him, digging around in the second shopping bag she had brought and pulling out two more garments. “You will feel better when you have your hat on.”

  “A hat?” He looked alarmed as he zeroed in on what she was carrying. “That’s not a hat. It’s a dunce cap with fur.”

  “Ebenezer, where is your Christmas spirit?”

  “I left it in the truck with the Ghost of Christmas Past.” He scowled harder.

  He really was a funny guy. She handed him the hat. “Look, I’ve got one, too. You’re not alone.”

  “How come you don’t have a suit?” He yanked on the hat.

  “Because I’m your helper.”

  A likely story. He knew he looked less than dignified. Good thing he didn’t know anyone here or this would shoot holes in his hard-won reputation.

  “I think you are great for doing this.” She gazed up at him with gratitude in her beautiful green eyes.

  He swallowed hard, wishing he were a stronger man. He had agreed to wear this dumb suit because he hadn’t been able to say no to her. If he wanted to let feelings into his heart—not that he did—they would be as bright and as rich as the lights flashing on the Christmas tree just ahead. Good thing his heart was as unresponsive as a hard layer of winter ice.

  “I’m an idiot,” he told her gruffly. That was simply the truth. His brain emptied of all common sense whenever she was near. “We’re finding someone else to play Santa on Christmas morning or I’m quitting. That’s the way it has to be.”

  “Maybe a candy cane would put you in a sweeter mood.” She pulled a brightly striped cane from the bag she carried.

  “Sorry, lady, this is as sweet as I get.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second, Ebenezer.”

  When Lucy smiled, it was as if the world stopped spinning. His world surely did. His pulse flatlined. His soul stilled. His spirit leaned toward her just a little bit. And his lips really wanted to know if her kiss was sweeter than any candy.

  He scowled harder. He didn’t approve of kissing. Too bad, he thought, easing back a step. Disappointment darkened Lucy’s eyes. He gulped in some air, surprised. It was nice to know that if he had kissed her, she wouldn’t have whacked him in the head with her shopping bag.

  He deserved at least that. He had no right wanting anything meaningful with a woman like Lucy. She sparkled like the light winking off the tinsel on the Christmas tree. He was no longer falling for her. He had already fallen hard.

  “Santa!” A little girl in a pair of bright pink pajamas with ballerinas printed on them and a matching robe padded out into the hallway. She had beautiful brown eyes and her round face was framed by loose black curls. “Look, Mama. Santa came.”

  A mother wearing the markings of deep worry and exhaustion towered protectively behind her child. “What a lovely surprise, Santa. It was nice of you to stop by when you have so much left to do up at the North Pole.”

  He was reminded of his sister, Danielle, who had practically lived at the hospital when Jonas had been in an unresponsive coma. It was like a nail striking deep. He looked down at the frail little girl who had grabbed ahold of his knee. She was about his niece Madison’s age, probably three. He cleared his throat. “I’ve got the elves working overtime so I could fly out here.”

  “Where are your reindeers?”

  Other children, drawn by curiosity, walked from their rooms into the hall. Their wonder and need to believe in goodness was like a whisper in silence. “I left them up on the roof. Good thing I brought Rudolph so the medical helicopter can see them if it needs to land.”

  “Wow.” A little boy clasped his hands together. His mother was behind him, a hand on his IV tree. “Rudolph is my favorite. Can we see him?”

  “They have a strict No Reindeer policy in this hospital. We have to follow the rules.” Spence improvised as more children gathered around him—children of all colors and cultures and ages, adored and beloved children who were bone-thin, or missing hair or recovering from surgery. One boy, about his nephew Tyler’s age, leaned on hand crutches, missing one leg.

  Tears burned in Spence’s thro
at as the children waved at Lucy. The first little girl whispered, “Lucy, you know Santa.”

  “That’s right, Arielle. I told him about all of you. Santa was so impressed that he had to come meet such brave and good kids.”

  “Did you get my letter, Santa?” The first little boy sidled closer. “Did ya?”

  So much need in that one’s eyes. On all of their faces, he realized as he looked from one to another. Lucy’s words came back to him, compassionate and wonderful Lucy. These children need Christmas.

  I’m not enough for this, he thought, panicking. Lucy was watching him with quiet expectation, as if she thought he was someone more, someone better. She was wrong, and he hated that. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint these kids, so he knelt down, taking time to add a little prayer. Please Lord, a little help. Just a little.

  Then it clicked. He recognized the little boy’s picture from Lucy’s file folder. Good thing he had an eye for computer printouts, as they were his life. “Yes, I did receive your letter, Max. Have you been a good boy this year?”

  Max nodded solemnly, scattering his brown hair. “Real good. I promise. I’ve been trying my very hardest.”

  An older woman, who was watching over Max, spoke up. She was probably his grandmother. “Max was saying he wanted a puppy, and we were hoping that you could bring one to his house on Christmas morning.”

  “Not a problem.” Spence saw the gratitude in the grandmother’s eyes and knew there would be a wiggling puppy under the tree for Max. “I’ll bring you the very best one.”

  “Thank you, Santa. I getta go home for Christmas.” Max vibrated excitedly. “Maybe. We hafta wait and see.”

  Suddenly all the kids were talking over the top of one another. Lucy took him by the hand. It was like touching heaven, like being led by a dream. She smiled up at him and hooked him, heart and soul.

  “I’ll pass out the candy canes in the playroom if you want to visit the kids who are bedridden first.” She sounded sweet. She believed in him.

  “Great,” he said gruffly. “Give me some of those candy canes, and I’ll check on the kids still in their rooms.”

  “Thank you, Santa.” She radiated kindness and generosity, so beautiful and real.

  “Sure, I’ll wear this getup anytime for you.” That’s what he said but what he meant was, I love you.

  She didn’t know that as she strolled away taking kids and parents with her into the Christmas-decorated playroom. Her world hadn’t changed.

  His had.

  Snow was still falling like a torrential rainstorm as Lucy climbed out of her car in the restaurant parking lot. Spence had angled in next to her, and as he rounded the back bumper he looked like a snowman. He was cloaked in snow. She couldn’t see two feet in front of her. Darkness had set in. The only light was the faint haze from the Mr. Paco’s Tacos sign.

  “I really appreciate this.” Spence’s baritone dipped low as he held the front door for her and blocked the driving snow with his brawny form. “I’m sure you probably don’t go to places like this, but I’m in the mood for Mexi-fries.”

  “There is no cure for what ails you like Mexi-fries.” He was such a funny guy. What did he think, that she dined on caviar and pâté? She didn’t even like those things. Now a Mr. Paco’s deluxe burrito was right up her alley. She breezed past him into the heat of the restaurant. “You did a great job as Santa. The kids loved you.”

  “I think I got a rash from the beard.”

  His scowl didn’t fool her, and he didn’t have a rash. His jawline was carved perfection. She wandered up to the counter. A bored-looking teenager took her order. She always got the same thing. She was a girl who knew what she liked and stuck with it. What surprised her was the way Spence sidled up behind her and added his order to hers, while pulling out his wallet like this was a date or something.

  A date? Her heart froze in mid-beat. No, don’t start letting your imagination run away with you, she told herself sensibly. He’s just being gentlemanly. And the fact that he was an inch away from her, leaning behind her to set a twenty on the counter was just accidental closeness. Being that close made it harder to pretend she didn’t like him.

  “I’ll go raid the salsa bar.” She slipped away, glad for an excuse. Her hands trembled as she reached for the little paper cups. She couldn’t seem to separate them. She wound up with three stuck together and had to concentrate on prying them apart. When she ladled the green sauce from the tub, she spilled half of it and had to go in search of the nearest napkin dispenser to wipe it up. As she was wiping, she felt the tingles on the back of her neck again.

  Spence. He was right behind her. Amusement warmed his rich baritone. “Having problems?”

  “Low blood sugar.” It was the only response that came to mind.

  “Here, let me.” He took the cups and began filling them. “No wonder. You ate three candy canes. I was counting. You had to know that was a blood sugar disaster.”

  “I used to be tougher when it came to sugar.” In fact, it was to a lot of things, including keeping her heart safe.

  “Go sit down.” He sounded gruff, but kindness and caring laced his tone. “I have the drinks and a basket of tortilla chips on the table. I’ll finish up here.”

  This is what it would be like to be taken care of by him. That thought came out of nowhere. It wasn’t something she wanted to think. Letting herself care for him would be the worst mistake.

  Or would it? With every step she took away from Spence, her spirit remained aware of him. As she meandered down the aisle between empty booths on one side and empty tables on another, images of Spence in his Santa suit battered her. She thought of the glimpse through the open doorway where he stood at Timothy’s bedside, talking earnestly with the little guy. He had sat by the tree in the playroom, carefully listening to each child, making them light up with happiness.

  She had been at his side, close enough to touch, taking notes for their Christmas list. Being with him had felt right.

  “Looks like our food is up.” He set the salsa on the table. “I’ll be back.”

  Yes, being with Spence definitely felt right. She settled into the booth, watching him stride away. The spark in her soul grew painfully, taking over where her reason would not. Tenderness winked to life within her, and she tried to fight it.

  There were two other couples in the restaurant. They were on the other side of the dining room, each couple speaking low in rapt conversation. She felt like that, as if her entire being were reaching toward Spence. She nibbled on a chip, wishing she could put brakes on her heart.

  This cannot be love, she told herself. It can’t be.

  “You look pretty serious.” He slid the tray on the table and eased onto the seat across from her. “How are you feeling?”

  “No idea.” That was only the truth. If she could go back and know only the terse, stoic, grumpy abominable snowman she always thought he was, then she would not be under the effects of his dimpled smile. She wouldn’t be losing her heart.

  “Here.” He ripped the paper from a straw, leaving the top inch or so on, and stabbed it into her drink. He lifted it over to her side of the table, along with her order of Mexi-fries. “Do you want to say the blessing?”

  “Yes.” She had a lot to be thankful for. She had a lot to think about. “Dear Father, Thank you for this meal and for the fellowship we have shared today. Please watch over the children with special love and care.”

  And please show me what I should do about this man I’m with, Lord, she added silently. “Amen.”

  “Amen.” He was watching her between narrowed eyes, as if he were particularly assessing her.

  What was he thinking? What were the chances he could figure out how she was feeling? She popped a Mexi-fry into the hot salsa and into her mouth. Greasy and mealy and spicy—just what a confused girl needed. She felt a little better so she helped herself to another one.

  “I didn’t realize you spent so much time at the hospital.” He sli
d her burrito plate toward her along with the napkins and a plastic knife and fork. “I learned from a few of the parents that you’re a regular there. You run errands for them, make calls for them, make sure they have what they need so they can spend more time with their kids.”

  “Yes, I do that for the critically ill children.” She situated the plate in front of her, getting it just right so she didn’t have to look at Spence. If there was caring on his face or kindness making his eyes deeply blue, then she was going to fall in love with him, bam, just like that, and there would be no way to stop it…no way for reason to reign.

  She smoothed open one of the napkins and laid it in her lap. “I go three times a week. I do whatever is most needed. Sometimes it’s reading a story to a child so the parents can run to their room and shower and change, or bring sandwiches and coffee or just listen and pray. I know how desperate and on the edge parents can feel. Nothing matters but their child.”

  “We’ve had a taste of that in our family when Jonas was wounded.” His baritone dipped intimately, full of honesty. “It was hard on the munchkins. Madison was too little to understand, but Tyler knew. They were away from us for the holidays, living in a hotel and seeing Jonas when they could. It’s a good thing you do, Lucy. You make a difference.”

  “Not such a big difference.” She cut into her burrito. “I wasn’t the one who was Santa Claus. You brought a lot of joy to some little people who really deserved it.”

  “It was a sacrifice to my dignity wearing that hat.” He unwrapped his first taco, fighting not to reveal the truth in his heart. “I see what you must have gone through, Lucy. My dignity is nothing when compared to that.”

  “Don’t start being nice to me, please.” She smiled but kept her focus on the swipe of her knife and fork cutting the burrito in little bites. She probably thought she was hiding her pain, but he could see it.

  “Why? You’re afraid you’re going to start liking me more? I’m nicer than you think, Lucy.”

  She didn’t say anything, cutting away. She was going to run out of burrito, but he understood what she couldn’t say. He could see how she had been like those mothers in the children’s wing, attentive and devoted, frazzled and worn and fighting not to let it show. “How could he have let you go?”