The Christmas Stranger. Beth Cornelison

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СКАЧАТЬ attractive, even with his rumpled clothes and scraggly beard. His eyes were stone-cold sober, and she didn’t smell any alcohol around him. He just didn’t fit any of the stereotypes for vagrants she’d learned over the years.

      She shook her head. “You’re not like most of the men that come to the Community Aid Center for help.”

      “I hope that’s a good thing.” Sobering his expression, he said, “I understand your concern, though. We just met. You don’t know if you can trust me. The whole safety issue, right?”

      She lifted her chin. “A girl has to be careful.”

      “You’re right.” He nodded and stroked his chin again. “You could pat me down to check for weapons.” He raised his arms and gave a devilish wink. “But I’m not carrying.”

      She returned a grin. “Or I could call my brother-in-law, the cop, to run your name through their computer and get the lowdown on you.”

      His smile faltered, and Holly experienced her first real misgivings. Why did mention of the police bother him? She’d been bluffing, but Matt’s reaction spurred her to dig out her cell phone.

      Matt sighed and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Go ahead…if it will put your mind at rest.”

      Holly dialed Robert’s cell and wasted no time with small talk. “Can you check a name out for me? Matt…” She looked to Matt, lifting her hand to invite him to fill in the missing last name.

      “Rankin.”

      “Rankin. Matt Rankin. He have a record?”

      “Is this for the Center?” Robert asked.

      “Uh…yeah,” she lied. “Sorta,” she added to ease her conscience.

      “Just a minute.” She heard the click of computer keys and a silent pause. “Nope, no arrests, but—”

      “But?”

      More clicking keys.

      “Ah. He received unemployment checks at one point, so he is in the system. I show a mailing address at the Woodgate Inn. That help?”

      “Yes, thank you, Robert.”

      Unemployment checks could mean Matt was one of the workers laid off when the local paper mill shut down production, and the Woodgate Inn was low-cost, bare-bones housing near the Community Aid Center. That much of Matt’s story fit.

      “Wanna tell me what this is about?” Robert asked.

      “Not really. I’ll call you later.” She disconnected the call before her brother-in-law could protest.

      Matt lifted an eyebrow, silently asking what she’d learned.

      Holly shoved her phone back in her purse and shrugged. “Apparently Matt Rankin has no record.”

      He lifted a corner of his mouth, his smile guileless. “Then shall we catch a cat?”

      “Stand back.” Matt stood in Holly’s barn, ready to release the mother cat from the wrapping of rags they’d used to secure and transport her to Holly’s home in the country. They’d settled the kittens in a comfortable box-bed with a towel in a safe corner of the barn. Now it was Mama’s turn to see her new home. “She’s bound to be scared and confused. Who knows what she’ll do.”

      Holly nodded and inched back as Matt lowered the bundled cat to the floor and began unwinding the rag-wrapping. Already the cat’s nose, poking out of the rags, twitched and sniffed the fresh air, redolent with the scents of straw and fallen leaves. As the bindings around the cat’s legs loosened, she wiggled and sprang free, leaving a gash on Matt’s arm as she vaulted away and scurried out of the barn.

      Holly’s green eyes rounded with concern. Rushing to the door, she scanned the yard. “She ran under the front porch.”

      “She’ll be fine. She just needs to calm down. I bet in a couple weeks, she’ll be eating out of your hand.” He examined the scratch on his arm and swiped the beading blood on his pants leg. “Speaking of which, do you have food?”

      Holly pivoted on her toe and tucked a wisp of her silky blond hair behind her ear. The early evening sun bathed her in a golden light that made her hair shine and the white dress she wore glow with ethereal femininity. She’d asked if he was a guardian angel, but if he were a betting man, he’d wager she was the angel. She sure looked the part.

      She blinked and fumbled as if his question surprised her. “Oh, well, I…of course. In fact, I, um…have chili cooking in the Crock-Pot.”

      He lowered his brow. “I’m not sure the cat will like anything spicy.”

      She tipped her head at an endearing angle. “The cat? I…was inviting you to have some dinner before I drove you back to town.”

      “Oh.” Matt shifted his feet uneasily. Being on the receiving end of charity still rankled. But to survive the toughest months recently, he’d had to swallow his pride. “I wasn’t asking for myself. I meant do you have cat food?”

      Holly’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, chuckling awkwardly. “Sorry. I thought…but you are welcome to have some chili before you go back to town. I have plenty.”

      “I don’t want to impose.”

      She waved off his demurral. “It’s the least I can do.”

      Matt hesitated. A hot meal in the company of a beautiful woman did sound appealing. But…

      He glanced down at his dirty clothes and grubby hands. He hated the slip in his hygiene of late. Without access to a washing machine or a working shower, he’d had to make concessions that made him cringe. He was hardly fit company for Holly in his disheveled and dingy state. His gut churned with disgust, frustration and shame. He hated where his life had ended up, but he had only to think of his children to know he’d make the same choices again if he were in the same position. His needs ranked a distant second to providing a secure, happy, healthy life for Palmer and Miles.

      “I, um…” Staring down at his hands, he turned up his palms and ground his teeth together, swallowing the bitter taste that rose in his throat. Humble pie was not a sweet dish for a man who’d once been on top and had the world at his feet.

      “You can use the shower off the guest room if you want before we eat.”

      He glanced up and found Holly watching him with a genuine openness and warmth.

      “And I still have some of my husband’s clothes that I think will fit you. You’re welcome to them. They’re not doing me any good collecting dust in my closet.”

      Matt held Holly’s gaze, searched her face. If he’d seen even a hint of pity or hesitation in her expression, he’d have refused. He’d have hit the road.

      He’d want to die on the spot.

      But her smile was friendly and warm. Honest and unassuming.

      “Okay.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and returned a grateful СКАЧАТЬ