The Christmas Stranger. Beth Cornelison

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СКАЧАТЬ blood. And the hint of sadness that lurked in her eyes spoke to the man who’d seen his own share of tragedy and loss.

      Matt wasn’t gullible enough to believe in love at first sight, but something about Holly spoke to his soul, and he treasured the opportunity to get to know her better.

      Even if he knew their current stations in life meant he had no future with her.

      

      As she chopped a tomato for a salad later that evening, Holly heard the upstairs water cut off. Inhaling deeply, she stared down at the vegetable on her chopping board and worked to clear her mind of the sultry images of Matt in the shower that taunted her. After changing into jeans and a Snoopy T-shirt, she’d left towels, a disposable razor, clean clothes and a few toiletry items on the guest bed for Matt. While he showered, she’d taken his dirty clothes to wash.

      Helping Matt felt good. Though she volunteered at the Community Aid Center a couple days a month, dishing up lunch to the masses and reading books to young children didn’t seem as valuable a contribution as giving Matt a chance to clean up and have a hot meal. The personal connection made all the difference.

      She’d seen Matt be a friendly, helpful man and been compelled to respond in kind. Considering he had saved Tommy’s life, a shower and supper were the least Matt deserved.

      As Holly scraped the chopped tomato onto the salad, her phone rang.

      “Hello?” She cradled the receiver between her shoulder and ear, while she started peeling carrots.

      “Hey, sis! Happy Halloween!”

      The youngest of the three Bancroft sisters, Zoey, sounded as bubbly and full of life as ever. Holly could well imagine Zoey decked out in some outrageous costume befitting her wild and rebellious personality. “Hey yourself. What’s the plan for the Bancroft sisters down in Lagniappe this Halloween?”

      “Well, I’m going to a party, but Paige’s wimping out. I tell you, Hol, that stuffed shirt she’s marrying is sucking all the fun outta our sister. She’s trying to conform to some Stepford Wife mentality that he’s brainwashed her with and never does anything without his approval. It’s sick.”

      Given that Zoey was prone to hyperbole, Holly didn’t let this report on their newly engaged older sister concern her. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.”

      “Oh, but it is! She spends all her time with Brent. I can barely get her on the phone anymore, because he’s keeping her so busy with the most ridiculous wedding details. I mean, who really cares if she wears white stockings or tan? No one sees her legs under her gown anyway.”

      “Give her a break, Zoey. When I married Ryan, I wanted everything to be perfect, too. Remember?”

      “But at least you spent time with your sisters before you let your husband drag you off to North Carolina.”

      Holly laughed. “You make it sound like Ryan brought me to Siberia.”

      “Might as well be. I miss not having you here in Lagniappe.”

      Holly sighed and experienced a tug of nostalgia for her family home in Louisiana. “I miss you, too, kiddo. Remember, the invite to come see me for Thanksgiving is still open.”

      “Thanks, but you know I don’t plan that far in advance.”

      That was Zoey—the rebel, the party girl, living in the moment.

      Holly sensed the change in Zoey’s mood even before the familiar question came. “How are you doing, Holly?”

      In other words, how was the poor widowed sister managing alone? Holly pinched the bridge of her nose and took the question in the spirit it was intended. Her family loved her and worried about her. Especially since Ryan’s murder. They’d been surprised when she’d opted to stay in North Carolina after his death rather than return to her parents’ home in Lagniappe. She may have grown up in Louisiana, but Morgan Hollow and the farmhouse she’d bought with Ryan were her home now.

      “I’m fine, Zoey. Really.” Holly heard footsteps on the stairs and added, “And I have company right now, so I need to go.”

      “You’re ditching me, too?”

      “Sorry. I’ll call you later to hear all about that Halloween party. Meantime, try to cut Paige some slack. Okay?”

      “Right.” The resignation in Zoey’s voice gave Holly pause. Was there more going on with her younger sister than feeling abandoned by Paige?

      “Bye, sis. Love you.” But Zoey had hung up and silence answered Holly. She replaced the receiver with a sigh and walked back to the chopping board.

      “Do you have my clothes?”

      Startled by the voice behind her, Holly fumbled the knife and nicked her finger. She set the blade down and turned. “I put them in the washing ma—”

      The man standing in the door of her kitchen stole her breath, her thoughts, her balance. Reaching behind her, she caught the edge of the sink, wheezing, “Wow.”

      Wow was an understatement. Matt’s piercing blue eyes, Colgate-perfect smile and broad shoulders had only been the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Holly gaped at the man who could have been an L.L. Bean model in another life.

      Ryan’s khaki slacks rode low on Matt’s hips, and he’d combed back his damp, collar-length hair from his now clean-shaven face. His narrow feet were bare, and the crisp scent of soap wafted to her from where he stood.

      Matt’s brow furrowed. “Something wrong?”

      “Uh, no. I…you…Wow. I barely recognize you!”

      Matt smoothed a hand down the front of Ryan’s old blue polo shirt. “Thanks for the clothes. You’re sure you want to give them up?”

      “They’re not doing me any good in his closet. Someone should use them. Why not you?” She let her gaze take in the breath-stealing sight he made once more, then cleared her throat. “They seem to fit well.”

      He tugged at the waist of the slacks and nodded. “Darn close. Thanks.” When he glanced up again, the vivid blue of his eyes, such a stark contrast to his dark hair and tanned skin, hit her with the force of a fist in the gut.

      So bright, so clear, so piercing. Yowza.

      His eyebrows lowered as he frowned. “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

      “Huh?” She glanced down at her hands and saw the blood smeared on her finger. “Oh, that’s nothing. I—”

      He moved across the kitchen, his gait smooth and loose limbed. Taking her hand in his, he brought her cut finger up to eye level for inspection. Her pulse thrummed at his touch, and the soapy-clean scent that clung to him teased her nose and left her light-headed.

      “Do you have some antibiotic cream or hydrogen peroxide for this? We should clean it.”

      Holly snatched her hand back and flashed a nervous grin. “Um, yeah…I’ll get it.”

      Drawing deep breaths to calm herself, СКАЧАТЬ