Her Holiday Family. Ruth Herne Logan

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      The blush heightened again. Was it because he remembered or because he’d brought up her penchant for sports and winning? Max wasn’t sure, but he leaned closer, just enough to punctuate his meaning. “This Tina?” He shook his head, dropped her hand and stepped back. He didn’t give her a once-over because he didn’t have to. Her face said she understood. “This Tina is a surprise and I can’t say I’m sorry to be working with her. Reason enough to clean up and hurry into work each morning.”

      “Which means we need to set ground rules.” She glossed over his compliment as if it hadn’t affected her. Max allotted her extra points for that and played along. “Employees are not allowed to fraternize outside of work.”

      Max frowned. “My parents own this place and I’m going to guarantee they fraternize outside of work. That’s how they got to be parents.”

      She bristled, looking really cute as she did. But he couldn’t think of that. There was work to be done so he held up a hand. “You’re right. I know you and Earl have been picking up a lot of slack, so my goal is to help you any way I can. If we can keep Mom and Dad from worrying about the store, Dad can focus on getting through his treatments. Getting well.”

      “Then we share the same objective. Perfect.” She gave him a crisp nod as she moved to a stack of holiday-themed boxes. “As long as we keep our focus on that, we shouldn’t have any problems.”

      Saucy and determined, the grown-up Tina wasn’t much different than she’d been years ago. He knew he should stop. Let her have the last word. But when she slanted a “keep your distance” look over her shoulder, he couldn’t resist. “Working for the government taught me to get around problems efficiently, Tina Martinelli. I expect that might come in handy now and then.”

      * * *

       Come in handy?

      Not with her, it wouldn’t.

      Oh, she saw the charm and self-assuredness that had drawn girls to Max back in their youth. Refined now, the charisma was more dangerous, almost volatile. But Tina hadn’t spent the last decade pining for her childhood crush. She’d managed to have her heart broken twice since, so Max could flirt and tempt all he wanted. It would do him no good.

      Tina was immune.

       You want to be immune, but face it, darling. Damp palms say something else entirely.

      She shushed the internal warning, but when she leaned in to show Max how to engage cash register functions, the scent of him made her long to draw closer.

      She didn’t. She ignored the fact that he smelled of sandalwood and soap and total guy, and that the flash of his smile brightened a room.

      She didn’t need any rooms brightened, thank you. A few LED lightbulbs took care of that in a cost-effective way.

      Over the years, she’d shrugged off her teenage attraction to Max as silly adolescent stuff. But today, seeing the straightforward warmth of the hardened but humorous man he’d become?

      That might be tough to resist.

      Fortunately Tina wasn’t in the market for anything in Kirkwood Lake these days. Least of all another broken heart. Been there, done that. Overrated.

      She showed him through the layout of the store. His parents had done a complete remodel four years previous, making Max’s memories obsolete, and the first thing he noted out loud were the rotational seasonal displays set at four separate locations. “I expect this was my mother’s idea.”

      Tina nodded as she unlocked the front door and officially opened the story for business. “She likes to go to regional conferences that teach how to build sales while keeping overhead in check.”

      “Always a trick in retail.” Max nodded to the first customer in the door, a woman, carrying an older-model chain saw that had seen better days.

      “Is Earl here yet?” The look she gave Tina and Max said she didn’t put much trust in their abilities.

      “No, ma’am,” Max told her. “Not ’til noon. But maybe I can help?”

      She looked at him, really looked, then formed her mouth into a grim line. “Maxwell Campbell, I do believe you still owe me for some flowers that went missing from my garden about twelve years back. Give or take a summer or two.”

      Max’s grimace said his memory clicked to a younger version of the woman before him. “You’re absolutely correct, Mrs. Hyatt. Those would be red roses and I believe they found their way over to Sophie Benedict’s house. I’ll be happy to make that up to you now with my apologies for the delay. And ask your forgiveness, of course.”

      The look she settled on him said maybe that was okay, and maybe it wasn’t. “How long have you served our country, young man?”

      “Over a decade.”

      Her mouth softened. Her shoulders relaxed. “I’d say we’re more than even.” She clapped a hand to his shoulder, hometown pride showing in her eyes, her smile. “Welcome home, Max. I expect your parents are most pleased to have you here, and just in time to share the holidays together.”

      “Yes, ma’am. My mom goes a little bit crazy over Thanksgiving and Christmas, that’s for sure. And about that saw?” He dropped his gaze to the chain saw in her arms.

      Her face said she was inclined to wait until Earl’s arrival nearly three hours later.

      “If you bring it to Dad’s tool bench, I’d be glad to have a look.”

      “If you think you can.” She didn’t try to mask the dubious note in her voice. “It’s been a long time since you’ve worked with your dad.”

      “True.” He led the way to Charlie’s well-lit bench and table at the back corner, a popular gathering place for small-town talk and broken tools. “But I remember a thing or two. And working for Uncle Sam taught me a few new tricks. Let’s see what’s going on.” He examined the pieces, then nodded. “We’ve got a bad clutch. Tina, does Dad carry parts for all models in the back or just current ones?”

      His quiet confidence in his abilities lightened Tina’s angst. Working for the Campbells helped them and her, but with Charlie out of commission and Earl on limited hours, she’d been fielding a lot of questions with few answers the past two weeks. Maybe having Max around wouldn’t be so bad, not if he could actually make sense out of the more difficult hardware inquiries. “I’ll check and see. If we have to order it, we won’t get it until next Tuesday, Mrs. Hyatt. Is that all right?”

      “Tuesday’s fine with me. Then would you be able to fix it right away?” she wondered. She hesitated, looking a little uncomfortable, then explained, “I hate to push, knowing what’s going on with your dad and all, but I promised my husband I’d get this fixed before wood-cutting season. Once the cold hits, he’ll take to the woods for next year’s heating supply, but he can’t cut without his saw. And with the Festival of Lights coming up, I’m going to have my hands full. I expect you’re taking that over for your father, as well?”

      Max sent a blank look from her to Tina and back. “Festival of Lights? I’m not following you.”

      “The СКАЧАТЬ