Read Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6) Online

Authors: Lorraine Beatty

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Spirituality, #Love Inspired, #Christmas, #Holiday Season, #Holiday Time, #Christmas Wishes, #Bachelor, #Small Town, #Mississippi, #Dover, #Christmas Celebrations, #Single Mother, #Event Planning Business, #Family Business, #Traditions, #Storm Threat, #Join Forces, #Searching, #Family Life

Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6) (3 page)

He didn’t understand why his mother was so concerned about the woman handling the job. Mom had the decorations and celebrations down to a science. All that Gemma had to do was follow the plan from the previous years and it would be a breeze. But, as he’d promised his mom, first he’d make her feel welcomed.

Leveraging himself from the recliner, he went to the freezer in the utility room and pulled out one of his mom’s frozen pecan pies. Her standard welcome-to-the-area offering.

Slipping on his athletic shoes, he didn’t bother to tie the laces. This would be a quick howdy-do. He’d hand her the pie, offer her his assistance, then get back to the game. The Saints had the ball.

All the lights in the cottage were blazing when he knocked on the door. He shifted impatiently as he waited. He’d reached out to knock again when the door opened and Gemma appeared. The lights from inside framed her in a soft glow, making her skin translucent and her reddish-blond hair spark with light. She was stunning. His mouth went dry and he forgot why he was here. “Uh. My mom, I mean, I brought you a pie. Pecan pie.” He went warm all over. What was wrong with him? He never had trouble talking to women, but for some reason he was as tongue-tied and awkward as a teenager with his first crush. “I should have brought it sooner. To welcome you. As a tenant.” He suddenly wished the porch boards would collapse and swallow him into the ground.

She smiled, her green eyes twinkling like emeralds. “That’s very kind of you. I’m sure Francie would have brought it herself if she was here.”

Linc frowned. Was she implying that he obviously hadn’t thought of this himself? She was right, but he didn’t like the idea that she could read him. “Actually, I wanted to bring it as an apology gift, too.” Good move. Now he was back on track. “I wasn’t very hospitable yesterday when you arrived. I didn’t know Mom had leased the cottage. And, uh, I’ve been too busy to get over here before this.”

She raised an eyebrow, then dropped her gaze down to his feet and his untied laces. “And you were so anxious to get the pie to me that you forgot to tie your shoes?”

“No. I—” Heat infused his neck and cheeks. Linc Montgomery didn’t like being off balance. He was always the one in charge. This woman was downright irritating.

“My son does that when he’s in a hurry to finish an unpleasant task. Like taking out the garbage, or bringing a pie to a neighbor.”

Her eyes weren’t twinkling now. They were dark and challenging. Well, he’d show her. He flashed his best smile. “A neighbor I should get to know better. Where would you like me to put this?” He stepped closer, edging past her to the door. She was not going to get the best of him.

She moved aside, following him into the living room. “Just put it in the kitchen.”

He smiled over his shoulder. “It’s frozen.”

“So you didn’t bake it yourself, then?”

“I could have.” He cringed at the stupidity of that remark. He could no more bake a pie than knit a sweater. Mr. Smooth Moves with the ladies was playing one-upmanship with a girl. No, a woman. A disturbingly attractive and quick-witted one at that.

She stood in the small eating area while he placed the pie on the counter. He looked at her and smiled again. She didn’t smile back. “So is there anything I can do for you? Anything need fixing, problems with the house, something up high I can get down for you?”

She arched her brows. “Everything is fine. We don’t need a thing. And I have a step stool.”

“Hey, Mom.” The boy charged into the room, his shoes squeaking on the floor when he stopped. “Hi, Mr. Linc.”

Linc searched his memory for the boy’s name. “Hey, Evan.” He noticed the junior-size football in the boy’s hands. “You play?”

“Naw. Mom can’t throw and I don’t know anyone yet.”

“I’ll play with you. Just holler. When you see that red truck at the main house that means I’m home. I love football.”

The boy’s face split in a wide smile. “Did you play?”

“Sure did. All through college.”

“Pro, too?”

“No. I wasn’t tall enough.” He shrugged. “Only six feet.”

“Drew Brees is only that tall.”

“Yes, but
he
has talent.”

Evan chuckled, then hurried from the room.

Gemma gave him a cool glare. “That was very nice of you. Assuming you follow up on your offer?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

She shrugged. “I’ve learned people say a lot of things they don’t mean. Promises aren’t worth much.”

“They are to me.”

“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

He’d had enough. This woman was getting under his skin. She shoved him off balance every time she spoke, and with every glance from those incredible green eyes. Seeing a pen and notepad on the counter, he scribbled down his cell number. “If you need anything, call. Day or night. I mean that.”

“Of course you do. Your mother would tan your hide if you didn’t. Right?”

Either she didn’t think much of him or she knew his mother better than he’d expected. Whatever—he wasn’t going to expend any more effort on making her feel at home. His mom could do that when she got back. “Good night.” He walked past the table and noticed the photos from last year’s Christmas events. Beside them were sketches of the same scenes, only far more elaborate. He touched one sketch with his fingertips. “What are these?”

Gemma came to his side. “My designs for decorating the downtown.”

“But this looks nothing like it did last year.”

“That’s the point. The Chamber wants to expand everything. More lights, more activities, more decorations.”

“Why?”

“To bring in more business. Over the next few years they’d like to see Dover become a Christmas destination spot.”

“Does my mother know about this?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Blindsided again. Linc nodded and made his way to the door. Everything in his life was upside down and backward. Gemma followed him.

“Thank you for the pie.”

He stopped and looked back at her, caught again by how lovely she was. “You’re welcome.”

Linc made his way down the steps, nearly tripping on his laces. He propped his foot up on a planter and tied them before marching back to the house.

This Gemma was going to completely change Dover’s Christmas. He liked it the way it was. Time to have another talk with his mother. Surely she didn’t intend for this woman to toss out the cherished holiday celebrations.

Suddenly his mom’s suggestion that he attend the Chamber meetings and help Gemma sounded like a great idea. His mom was right about one thing. He did know the Christmas events down to the last plastic poinsettia. He’d make sure she didn’t destroy the holiday traditions the people in this town treasured—and that she kept things the way his mother always had.

* * *

Gemma closed the door behind Linc, then returned to the kitchen and stared at the pie. That
had
to have been Francie’s idea. She seriously doubted Linc would think of that on his own.

She smiled as she imagined Linc’s reaction to Francie’s request to bring a pie to the new tenants. No doubt he’d whined and rolled his eyes the way Evan did when faced with an unpleasant task. Why else would Linc traipse over here with his shoes untied?

When she’d seen him coming up on the porch, she’d braced for another confrontation and assumed her most pleasant expression. The one she used for clients who were inclined to be difficult. But when she’d opened the door, he’d looked stunned—and confused. He’d recovered quickly, unleashing his charm, but it was obvious he was unhappy with playing gentleman host.

It was all a wasted effort where she was concerned. She felt certain he was accustomed to women melting under his disarming smile, and to be fair, it had caused a small hitch in her breath. She doubted he was used to women challenging his motives.

What he didn’t know was how fragile her bravado actually was. Resting a hand on her throat, she took a few deep breaths to slow her heart rate and calm the flutters in her stomach.

She’d have to keep her head around Linc. He put the electric in Montgomery Electrical. Energetic and aggressive, with his piercing blue eyes, the perpetual scowl on his chiseled features, he was the kind of man who could overpower you with his personality alone. Which meant he wasn’t the kind of man she ever intended to get close to. The thought of being overpowered again chilled her blood. She forced the memory back into the dark corner of her mind, praying for peace. The past was over. She had Evan. That was all she wanted to remember.

“Mom? Did that man leave?”

She motioned her son to her side. “Yes. Why?”

He exhaled a loud sigh. “I wanted to ask him about football and stuff.”

Gemma’s shoulders sagged at the thought. Another challenge to guard against. She didn’t need her son developing a case of hero worship for a man like Linc. Though he had been kind to Evan earlier, she knew better than to make any snap judgments about men. Besides, Linc hadn’t come of his own accord in a gesture of welcome or apology. He’d come because he’d been ordered by his mother.

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow. It’s time for bed.”

After settling Evan for the night, Gemma returned to the dining room to go over her presentation one more time. She’d spent a good portion of the past two days sketching out ideas for decorating the town square. Looking at her drawings released a bubble of excitement from deep inside—helping to chase away the unease Linc had left in his wake. Tomorrow she would meet with the Chamber officials to present her preliminary plans, and she needed to be prepared. If she succeeded in Dover, it would open the doors for her future. She could return to Charlotte, or anywhere for that matter, and start another business. New name, new focus, new goals. Ones that didn’t include trusting someone else.

Chapter Three

G
emma waited patiently the next afternoon as the officers of the Dover Chamber of Commerce passed around her drawings for the downtown Christmas decorations. She’d received a warm welcome from everyone. She’d already met Pete McCorkle, the president, but this afternoon she’d been introduced to Celia Jones, the membership director; Jeff Wilson, director of sales; and the treasurer, Leon Skelton. They had expressed their excitement over the expansion of the Christmas celebrations. She’d also met Leatha Delmar, who would be her assistant, and who had greeted her with a warm hug and assurance that she would help with everything. As a longtime resident of Dover, Leatha’s knowledge and experience would be invaluable.

Pete studied her drawings, a pleased smile on his face. “These are wonderful. This should draw people from up in Jackson to come down and see our decorations.” He glanced at her. “Can you do this within the budget?”

“I believe so. Provided we can get the business owners on board to help. I’m hoping for a few volunteers to help me coordinate details and work with store owners. And I’ll solicit donations where I can. I’d like to incorporate the other events you have—the community dinner, the toy drive. Bring all the events together, which will ultimately help all the merchants, not just the ones around the square.”

Celia nodded in agreement. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. For years, we’ve wanted to do more with Christmas beyond tossing up a few lights.”

“May I ask why you haven’t?”

“Money, mainly. We have two other large events and fund-raisers during the year. A Founders Day celebration in the fall, and a sidewalk sale and cook-off in the spring. It’s only been with the closure of the Southways plant that we were forced to look for another means of revenue. We decided to make more of our charming downtown and put more effort into the holiday.”

“I think that was a wise decision. Your town square is ideal for showcasing Christmas celebrations.”

Pete clasped his hands on the table. “I like your ideas and your enthusiasm. How soon can we get started on this? I’m afraid we haven’t given you much time. It’s already late October.”

Gemma kept her demeanor professional, but inside she wanted to leap for joy. “I’d like to start with a meeting of the local business owners as soon as possible. I’d also like to see what you have on hand as far as lights, signs, banners, holiday decor, things like that.”

Jeff Wilson spoke up. “That would be in the storage building over on Fifth Street. Francie Montgomery should be able to give you her key.”

Gemma bit her lip. “Oh. I’m afraid she’s out of town, and I have no idea when she’ll be home.”

Wilson waved off her concern. “No problem—Linc will know where the key is.”

She forced a smile, but inwardly she cringed. She was trying to avoid Linc—not become more involved. The memory of his unexpected visit last night sent her pulse racing and released a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Still, she left the meeting with a confidence she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She smiled through her trip to the grocery, the bank and the drugstore. When she pulled up at the school to pick up Evan she was still smiling. Tomorrow she would take pictures of the downtown buildings so she could begin designing light displays. She’d draft an email to the business owners tonight requesting a meeting in the next couple of days. She prayed they would be willing to participate. But first she had to see what was salvageable in the storage building. Unfortunately, to do that she needed to talk to Linc again and get the key.

“Hey, Mom.” Evan slid into the front seat and buckled up.

“How did it go today?” She reached over and smoothed his hair.

“Good. I met a boy who lives near us. He said if you’ll call his mom she would let him come over to play.”

“That’s wonderful, honey. Did you get her number?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Gemma made the turn into the winding driveway of the Montgomery estate situated a few miles south of downtown Dover. The long alley of live oaks arching overhead, dripping with moss, was like a loving welcome home. Living on the Montgomery estate in the quaint cottage gave her a sense of belonging and fueled her imagination. Her mind was a tumbler of ideas all straining to spill forth and become reality.

As she made the curve to the main house she noticed Linc’s red Silverado parked in front. She would have expected him to drive a black one. It better suited his personality. She didn’t relish the idea of approaching him again. He’d probably want proof that she had permission to open the storage building.

She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She was a professional. She’d ask for the key, then go on about her business. Piece of cake. Or in his case, pie.

“Mom, can I see if Mr. Linc can play football with me?”

“Honey, I’m sure he’s working. He’s a busy man. We shouldn’t bother him.”

“But he said he liked to play. He said I could ask him.”

Gemma stole a quick glance at her son, a twinge of sadness settling in her chest. How could she explain to her son that people often made offhand promises they didn’t really mean? She knew the heartbreak of trusting the wrong person. She didn’t want her son to know that kind of betrayal. But she couldn’t fill him with fear of others or of having friends and relationships, either. Sooner or later she knew he’d get his little heart broken and all she could do was be there to help him through it. But she’d make sure he knew that the Lord was always with him and that He was the only trustworthy presence.

Stopping beside the cottage, she switched off the engine and faced her son. “Change your clothes first, then you can go ask. But be polite and remember he might be too busy so don’t be disappointed if he says no.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

He scurried out of the car and dashed up onto the porch, fidgeting impatiently while she unlocked the door.

Within minutes he was out the door, football cradled in his arm, and racing across the lawn to the main house. She debated whether to watch him from the porch or take a more discreet position from inside. She hoped Linc would say yes, but her common sense knew he’d probably turn the boy away, leaving her to deal with the fallout.

She should have gone with him. She had a perfect excuse—she needed the key to the storage building. But subjecting herself to his dynamic personality wasn’t a good idea. Evan’s father had been a forceful, compelling man. She shook off the painful memory and hurried to her bedroom window. Leaning against the frame, she swallowed a wave of shame. She’d let her own fears and insecurities stop her from accompanying her son. But she couldn’t go with him everywhere.

She watched as Evan waited at the front door. Linc had better answer or she’d give the man a piece of her mind. He shouldn’t make careless promises to little boys. The mansion door opened and she saw Evan look up. Her son nodded. Then nodded again more slowly and turned and headed down the porch steps.

Gemma pressed a hand over her mouth. Linc was sending the boy away. She braced herself for tears. Evan ran across the lawn, but stopped midway, tossing the ball in the air.

Puzzled, she leaned closer to the window and saw Linc jogging easily toward Evan. He raised his hands and Evan tossed the ball. It fell short. Linc scooped it up and motioned Evan to his side, then proceeded to demonstrate the correct way to hold and throw the ball.

Surprise drew Gemma’s lips apart and warmth filled her chest. She’d been fully prepared for Linc to dismiss his invitation. He didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who would want to spend time with a child. She watched as Evan tossed the ball and Linc made a big show of catching it. After one toss, Linc fell to the ground and Evan threw himself on top of him. The happy smile on her son’s face tightened her throat and brought tears to her eyes. He needed this. A man to do guy things with. She’d tried to fill that void, but as a single mom it was all she could do to keep things on track. Lately, even that had been impossible.

She glanced out again and saw Linc staring at her. Her skin heated. Even across the distance and through the window, his piercing gaze caused a skip in her heartbeat. He motioned her to join them. Curious, she went out and across the lawn.

“Mom, Mr. Linc wants me to join his team. Can I?”

“Team? What kind of team?” Gemma looked at Linc for an explanation.

“I coach a kid’s football team. It’s through the church.” He shrugged. “My brother Gil is actually the coach, but I took it over when he went to Mobile. We practice twice a week after school and our games are on Saturdays. The cost is reasonable. Basically for a shirt and registration fees.”

His offer surprised her. “Football. I don’t know, Evan. It’s a rough sport.” Her expression must have revealed her concern because Linc hastened to explain.

“It’s flag football, Gemma. No helmets or pads, no tackling. They wear a belt with tear-away flags on each side. They pull the flags to tackle.”

That sounded safe. “Well, I’ll think about it.”

Evan looked up at her with soulful eyes. “Please, Mom.”

How could she refuse? This was what she’d hoped for when she’d moved here. But why did the offer have to involve Linc?

Linc ruffled Evan’s hair. “Come to the house and I’ll give you the registration packet to look over. It explains everything. And if you still have concerns you can come to the game this Saturday and see how it works.”

His consideration surprised her. Being on a team would be good for Evan. It would help him make friends and boost his confidence. She’d been too busy running her own business to find the time to take him to ball practices. Something else he’d missed out on. Along with not having a dad. “All right.” She started across the lawn. Evan hurried ahead, leaving her and Linc to walk together. “Thank you for playing with him.”

“You didn’t think I’d remember, did you?”

“No. I didn’t.”

One dark eyebrow arched. “So is it just me or do you not trust people in general?” Without waiting for an answer he pushed open the door and went inside.

Gemma stepped into the grand foyer, her interest immediately captivated by the beauty of the burled-wood panels on the walls and the broad staircase with its stained glass window on the landing. The scent of furniture polish and old wood lay thick in the air and was a testament to the loving care the home had received over the years. But what struck her most profoundly was the sense of warmth and welcome that embraced her.

Her parents’ home was large, but sleek and formal. It had been featured in a design magazine once. But no one would ever call it homey or welcoming.

Linc appeared from a doorway on the left, holding a sheet of paper in his hand. “This should tell you everything you need to know. Unfortunately the season has already started so he won’t get to play all the games listed here, but I think he’ll enjoy it.” He smiled at Evan. “The boy runs fast.”

Evan beamed. “Can I play this weekend?”

Gemma swallowed the lump in her throat. It had been a long time since she’d seen him so happy, and she owed it to Linc’s kindness. “I’ll do my best.”

Evan let out a whoop.

Linc grinned. “Just get me the paperwork and I’ll make sure he plays. We can borrow a shirt if we have to.”

Gemma squeezed her son’s shoulder. “Then, we’d better get back home and start filling out forms.”

“Thanks, Mr. Linc.”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” The pair shared a high five.

“Hey, Mr. Linc, do you know a kid named Cody Fenelli?”

“I do. His family lives up the road. His dad and I went to college together. Why?”

“I want him to come and play. Is that okay? I mean, this being your house and all.”

“Of course. I’ll give them a call. He’s on the team, too.”

“Really? Oh, wow, this is so cool.” Evan dashed out and back to the cottage.

Gemma walked to the door, searching for the right words to express her appreciation. “Thank you for this. He’s had a rough time of things lately. Playing on a team with other boys is an answer to my prayers.”

Linc set his hands on his hips, a half smile moving his lips. “I’ve never been an answer to a prayer before.”

She pressed her lips together. Leave it to him to think the comment was personal. “Oh, I doubt that. I’m sure there are plenty of females who think you’re God’s gift.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“No. I’ve known men like you. All charm on the outside, but inside no emotion and little substance. Thanks again.” She walked across the porch, acutely aware of Linc coming behind her. The man made the air around him vibrate with energy. Being near him sent odd flutters through her stomach and made her nerves all quivery. She didn’t like the sensation. Not one bit.

The key. She stopped and turned around. Linc plowed into her from behind. Her foot slipped off the porch edge, throwing her off balance.

“Whoa.”

Strong arms grabbed her waist and set her on the porch. Breathless, she fought through the confusion and found herself pressed against Linc’s chest, her hands resting over his heart, which was beating rapidly. She inhaled his woodsy aftershave deep into her lungs. She looked up into his eyes and saw concern etched in the blue depths.

She told herself to pull away. But her body refused to obey her mind’s commands. She was too surprised. Not that she was in his arms—she could rationalize that—but what had her flummoxed was the realization that Linc Montgomery was warm and very human. She’d assumed being close to him would be similar to standing in front of an open refrigerator—cool and icy. Instead of wanting to pull away, she was oddly content to remain right where she was.

Horrified at the thought, she stepped back, putting a safe distance between herself and her landlord. “Sorry. I thought of something else I wanted to ask.”

“You okay?”

“Yes. But I need the key to the Christmas storage building. They said you would know where it is?” She cleared her throat, disgusted at the shaky tremor in her voice.

Linc flashed a smile that filled his blue eyes with amusement. Arrogant man. Now he’d think he had some effect on her. Which was ridiculous. She was too smart, too battle scarred to ever let that happen again.

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