Almost a Christmas Bride

“Yes. And you should, too.”

“I give up,” he said, walking—stalking—away. “Forget the whole thing.”

Shana saw her future flash before her eyes. “No, wait!” She rushed after him. “I’ll take the job, on one condition.”

“This should be good.”

She almost laughed at his sarcasm. “You have to start dating.”

He stared at her, as if shocked. “How do you know I’m not?”

Good point, especially since he’d said it so fast. “You have to start visibly dating. Or, at least bring your girlfriend to the Stompin’ Grounds on Saturday night or something. No one has ever seen you date.”

“Because I keep my private life private.”

She crossed her arms. “Take it or leave it. I don’t want people to think we’re living together for any reason other than business ones.”

“So, I should lead some woman on instead? Make her think I’m dating her because I’m interested, even if I’m not?”

She despised his logic, especially when she was too emotional to counter it, so she just looked him in the eye and waited. She needed a guarantee from him, although she wasn’t sure whether she could trust it. He hadn’t hesitated to go after her sister, after all.

“All right, Shana,” he said at last. “I’ll date. In public.”

“The first Saturday night after I move in.”

“Okay.”

He said it too easily, as if he was already dating someone. “And you have to look cozy.”

He laughed finally. “What I do on a date isn’t yours to command. I’ll show up with a woman at the Stompin’ Grounds on Saturday night. That’s all I’ll promise.”

She decided not to press. He’d already conceded more than she expected, so she stuck her hand out. “Deal.”

His large, callous, warm hand engulfed hers. They’d never touched before. Bolts of lightning zapped her. He was a strong man. It would be easy to lean on him.

But she wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever. She would just do her job and be grateful. Thanks to Kincaid, she wouldn’t be anyone’s charity case anymore.

Chapter Two

Shana pulled up in front of Aggie McCoy’s house, turned off her engine and just sat, letting her nerves settle. Aggie had become Shana’s rock in the year since she’d returned to town. Aggie was also Shana’s key to success. If she could convince Aggie this was strictly a business deal, word would spread through town and no one would start speculating—or placing bets, a common occurrence.

Shana released her death grip on the steering wheel and headed toward the house and the woman who’d become her refuge. Sixty-nine years old and widowed for over twelve years, Aggie defined the title “Mother,” having raised eight children, who’d given her a whole lot of grandchildren to love. She tended to mother just about everyone who crossed her path, related or not. Plus she gave great big, cushy hugs that Shana’s mother never seemed able to do.

That wasn’t important now, she reminded herself. She had Emma, the only thing that mattered.

Shana knocked twice then opened Aggie’s door. The scent of apples and cinnamon greeted her. Had she made pie or strudel? “Anybody home?” she called out.

“Mama! Mama!” Emma came running out of the kitchen and straight to Shana, who scooped her up and swung her around, her fine blond curls flying behind her, her Callahan green eyes a perfect match for her frilly T-shirt.

“Here’s my baby girl. Something smells good.”

“Apple. Mmm.”

“You’re early,” Aggie said, coming into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “How’d it go?”

Shana cuddled Emma, who toyed with her pendant. “I got the job. Full-time, right here in town.”

“So, who’s the boss?”

“Kincaid.”

Aggie’s black-penciled brows shot up. “Doing what?”

“Jill-of-all-trades. Housekeeper, property cleaner, office help, designer.”

“Sounds like more than forty hours a week.” Aggie headed toward the kitchen. “I need to take my pie out. Come on back.”

“I’m not sure about the total hours, but it’s a mixed bag of work. And it’s live-in.”

Aggie spun around but, uncharacteristically, said nothing.

“It’s all on the up-and-up, Aggie. He needs my apartment for Dylan, and he needs a housekeeper, so Emma and I are moving in with him. This little peapod will have her own room for the first time, and a yard to play in.” She rubbed noses with Emma, who flattened her hands on Shana’s cheeks and gave her a big, wet kiss. “He’s also dating someone.”

“Is he, now?” Aggie pulled the apple pie out of the oven and set it on a metal trivet.

Shana inched closer. “I want people to know this is all business. Can you make sure that happens?”

“Are you accusing me of spreading rumors?”

“I’m thinking this is more like damage control. I’ve worked hard to get this town to accept me again. And there are never any rumors about Kincaid. This is a great opportunity for me. I can even afford to pay you and all the other babysitter volunteers for watching Emma.”

“We’ll talk about that some other time. I’m happy for you, honey. It sounds like a real good solution to all your problems. That Kincaid. He must have a crystal ball, hmm? He sure came up with a solution just when you needed it the most.”

She gave Shana an odd look, as if she knew something Shana didn’t know. “Things happen when they’re supposed to. Isn’t that what you always say?”

“That, and timing is everything.”

There was a twinkle in her eye that made Shana wonder if she’d known what Kincaid was going to offer. “Will you try to squelch any rumors that pop up, Aggie? Please?”

“I’ll try, honey, but you know the town has a lifeblood of its own when it comes to other people’s business. Somebody’s bound to start a pool or two.”

Shana had known that, of course. She’d just hoped otherwise. “Well, maybe when they see Kincaid’s girlfriend, they’ll change their minds.”

“I find it interesting that he’s never showed up with a girlfriend before but you think he will now.”

“Me down,” Emma said.

Shana took advantage of the moment to formulate an answer. “I do, too, but he told me he would be taking her to the Stompin’ Grounds on Saturday night.”