His Holiday Family

Two minutes later, after retrieving her purse in the E.R., she hastened out to the parking lot while digging for her cell. She slipped behind the steering wheel of her eight-year-old Dodge and punched in her mom’s number.

“How’s Jared?” In the background Kathleen heard her son crying, and her grip tightened on the phone.

“I don’t know. He’s holding his arm. He might have broken it.”

“I’ll be there soon.” She flipped her cell closed and pulled out of the parking space.

Ten minutes later Kathleen turned onto Oceanview Drive. Her seven-year-old son was too adventurous for his own good. She guessed he was going from climbing trees to houses now. Next he’d want to try flying off the roof. The thought sent panic through her as she drove into the driveway and parked.

The front door banged open, and Kip came racing out of the two-story stone house. “Mom, Jared climbed up there.” He pointed toward the second floor. “You should have seen him. I can’t believe he did it.”

“Did you dare him?” Kathleen charged up the steps to the porch. At the door Kip’s silence prompted her to glance back at him. “You did.”

“Aw, Mom. I didn’t think he would really do it.”

“We’ll talk later.” Kathleen entered her childhood home and headed toward the kitchen where the crying was coming from.

Kathleen’s mother stood over her son, her face leached of color. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Relief flooded her features. “If you need me, I’ll be—”

“Mom, I’ll take care of this. Don’t worry.” Her mom never did well when someone was hurt or even sick. She usually fell apart. She certainly hadn’t gotten her desire to be a nurse from her mother.

Jared sat cross-legged on the tile floor, cradling his left arm to his chest, tears streaking down his face. His look whisked away any anger she had at him attempting something dangerous.

Kathleen stooped down, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Honey, where does it hurt?”

He sniffled. “Here.” He lifted his arm and pointed at his wrist. “Nana thinks I broke it.”

When Kathleen gently probed his injury, Jared yelped and tried to pull away.

“Let’s take you to the doctor. You’ll need an X-ray.”

“Am I gonna get a shot?” Jared’s brown eyes grew round and large.

“I don’t know.”

“I am! I don’t want to go.” Jared scooted back from her. “I can tough it out.”

“If it’s broken, it needs to be fixed. It’ll hurt a lot more than a shot if you don’t get it taken care of.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Kip said behind Kathleen.

She threw a warning look over her shoulder. “I’m sure you have homework. Go do it. Have Nana help you if you need it.”

Jared stopped moving away from her. He peered down at his wrist, sniffed and then locked gazes with her. “I’m not a baby.” He pushed to his feet, tears swimming in his eyes. Blinking, he ran his right hand across his face, scrubbing away the evidence of his crying. “I’m ready,” he announced as if he were being led away to some horrible fate.

While Jared trudged toward the front door, Kathleen spied Kip sitting on the stairs. Before her older son could open his mouth, she followed Jared into the foyer. Jared went outside on the porch, sticking his tongue out at his brother as he left.

Kathleen swept around, her hand resting on her waist. “Don’t forget you and I need to have a talk. This fighting between you two has got to stop.”

“We don’t fight.”

She arched her eyebrow. “Oh, since when?”

“We’re playing.”

Gesturing toward the den, she said, “Homework. I want to see it finished by the time I get back to Nana’s to pick you up.”

Kip leaped to his feet and stomped toward the den, making enough racket to wake up anyone who was within a several house radius.

As Kathleen covered the distance to the den to tell her mother what she was going to do, her mom said, “Glory be. This is great news.”

Kathleen stepped through the entrance into the room. “What is?” she asked, swinging her attention to The Weather Channel on TV. She could certainly use some good news.

Her mom muted the announcer. “Hurricane Naomi has changed course. I think we’re going to miss most of it. Maybe get a touch of the western tip, but not like they had predicted.”

“We don’t have to board up our house now?” Kip sat down at the gaming table with his book bag.

“It’s not looking like we do.” Her mom peered at her. “I know it’s not good news for someone else, but maybe it will peter out before it reaches Florida.”

Kathleen doubted it from the information she had heard. “Mom, I’m taking Jared to the minor emergency clinic. I don’t know when I’ll be back to pick up Kip.”

“Fine. Kip and I will put away all the supplies I bought for the hurricane, especially all those boxes of tape I got for the windows, which I really don’t need. Don’t know why I bought them.”

“I’ll take a box, Nana,” Kip announced while digging into his bag for his homework.

“Sure. Just don’t tape up Jared with it.” Her mother rose and moved toward Kip. “Kathleen, when you get back we’ll order something for dinner. We’re celebrating tonight. No Naomi.”

Kathleen left her mom’s, not feeling the least bit in the mood to celebrate anything—even the fact the town would avoid Naomi. Her cousin’s apartment burned today. She could have lost Sally and her sons. A firefighter went into a burning building because of her insistence her family was still inside.

Her life continued to come apart at the seams, starting with the last year of her marriage to Derek. She had wanted coming home to be a new start but hadn’t counted on her sons’ rebellion against moving to Hope. There was no going back to Denver, however. She couldn’t afford to live there, financially or emotionally.

Chapter Two

The crashing sounds of the falling timbers and the crackling of the fire haunted Gideon when he tried to sleep at the hospital. He remembered being put into the ambulance and glancing at the Magnolia Street Apartments as the structure caved in on itself, flames shooting upward as the blaze rampaged through it.

The noises around him amplified in volume. The antiseptic smell of the hospital overwhelmed him. Sweat popped out on his forehead. His breathing became shallow, his throat raw.

Finally, Gideon inhaled a deeper breath and regretted it the second he did. A sharp pain pierced through his chest. He clenched his jaw and rode the wave until it subsided to a throbbing ache. In spite of how he felt, restlessness churned through him. Scanning the hospital room, he resisted the impulse to walk away. The doctor should be here within a few hours to give him the okay to leave. But as he stared at the clock on the wall across from his bed, the second hand seemed to be moving in slow motion.

The sound of the door opening lured his attention away from watching time inch forward. Kathleen Hart—last night he’d finally remembered she’d told him her name at the fire—entered his room. Her long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail emphasized her delicate features—large, blue eyes like the Gulf off the shores of Hope, lips with a rosy tint that wasn’t from lipstick, and two dimples in her cheeks as she smiled at him.

Dressed in blue scrubs, she approached his bed carrying a little plastic cup with his meds. “How are you doing today?”

“Well enough to go home.” He held out his right palm for his pills.

“Dr. Adams should be here soon. He does rounds after lunch.” Dark shadows under her eyes attested to not enough rest.

He recalled her apology and hoped what had happened at the fire hadn’t caused her a sleepless night. “Where did you go yesterday? Nurse Ratched brought me my meds. She wouldn’t tell me what happened to you.”