The Fireman's Christmas Read online

  Danny watched her go, torn between feelings of relief and sheer panic.

  "Who was that?" Alison asked, snapping her fingers to claim Nana's attention from the flower bed.

  "Mrs. Vulcan," Kyle said.

  "The Wicked Witch of the West," Kevin added.

  "She was mean!" Emma exclaimed.

  "My last hope," Danny moaned. He rubbed his temple, trying to ward off the headache he could feel coming on. "Well," he muttered, "that went well."

  Only Alison, at the age of almost fourteen more astute than the others, seemed to notice the sarcasm. "What will we do now? Dad?"

  It was a good question, and he wished with all his heart he had an answer. He tried to summon a reassuring smile. "I don't know, Alison. Will you keep an eye on Emma while I straighten up the mess inside? And you two—go wash up and change your clothes, pronto. And if I ever catch you with scissors or pulling a stunt like that again…" His look had the boys scampering inside like frantic squirrels.

  Danny stood on the front porch after the kids had retreated into the house, staring down at the ragged flower beds that Laurie had once kept so neat and orderly. He wasn't exactly a control freak, but lately he had felt just a bit…What was that word? Frazzled? Man, he needed a drink. Or a two-day nap. He needed Laurie. He didn't have time for all of this and work, too. Now, if he could find someone just like Laurie…

  He shoved his hand through his hair and sighed. Alcohol and sleep might sound appealing in the short run, but neither would solve his problem. Not when he had to figure out who was going to take care of his kids when his next shift came up day after tomorrow.

  What Danny really needed was a miracle.

  * * *

  TESSA DOHERTY WAS in her favorite position, crouched on her knees in the dirt. She whistled happily to herself as she dug her fingers into the soil, kneading and smoothing the flower beds she had designed to enhance the English Tudor house that belonged to her newest client. Reaching for a fairy polyantha rose, Tessa lifted it from its flat and carefully separated the roots. Gently she nestled the plant into the hole she'd just dug near the low, decorative limestone wall, which would support the delicate blossoms.

  "Be happy, little rose," Tessa said, smiling as she patted the soil around the plant. She sniffed, inhaling the pungent scent of dirt newly mixed with fertilizer. To some people the smell was disgusting, but to Tessa the smell was life. It was rebirth and fruitfulness, creation and creativity. The very air breathed hope and new life, which was exactly what she'd needed when she moved from Chicago to Warenton.

  Warenton, nestled on the edge of the western Pocono mountain range, was a midsize town, although the locals called it a small city. It was a place where friendly smiles were directed at everyone and a warm welcome was guaranteed. Breaking in to the business market here was a different story. Even though everyone was politely interested and even enthusiastic about her new landscaping business, they generally patronized the old tried-and-true establishments. She wondered how long she had to be here before she could consider herself a real Warentonian.

  Tessa inhaled deeply as the soft breeze brought another fragrant wisp in her direction. Then she chuckled quietly. She could just hear her son's comments if she shared her fanciful thoughts. Eric would probably look at her as if she was nuts and then say, "It's cow manure, Mom. Get over it!"

  Tessa shifted her shoulders as she felt a drop of sweat roll leisurely between her shoulder blades. It was hot and humid today. August had arrived with a vengeance. She glanced over at her daughter, Josie, who leaned over an ornamental fishpond in the center of the garden.

  Josie giggled as delightedly as only a seven-year-old could. "Mommy, their mouths look so funny when they eat." She puckered her lips to make a fish face. "Like this."

  Tessa laughed. "That's pretty good, honey. Keep it up and we'll have to eat you for dinner."

  "Yuck," Eric said. He was sprawled under a tree reading a book. "Josie would taste like a stink-fish."

  Josie glared at her brother. "I would not. Would I, Mommy?"

  Grinning, Tessa said, "No, funny face, you wouldn't."

  "See, Eric!" Josie turned back to splash the surface of the pond as Tessa resumed her work. The garden hummed with bees and the sweet call of birds in the trees. This was the life. Quiet, solitude and hard work to renew her soul. Why hadn't her ex-husband, Colin, been able to understand how important this was to her? How she needed this?

  Water under the bridge, girl! Enjoy the tranquillity.

  For the next half hour she did. Then she became aware of how quiet it was. There were no sounds from the children, nothing except the twitters of birds and the buzz of insects. Tessa stood up, looking around, but there was no sign of her daughter.

  "Josie? Josie, where are you? Eric?"

  Then suddenly the silence was broken by the twinkling sound of glass breaking inside the house, followed by a yell. One of the French doors on the terrace swung open and banged against the house. A beautifully groomed white cat streaked out faster than heat lightning. Eric and Josie were right behind the animal, while an astonished Tessa stared.

  The kids tried to corner the cat beneath a glass patio table, but the wily animal was too clever for them. The cat feinted right, then left, so Eric bumped into Josie, and in the process, the cat dashed into the shrubbery.

  As her children started after the animal, Tessa ordered, "Hold it right there, you two! What were you doing in Mrs. Sherbourne's house? And what was that crash?"

  "I wanted to see the kitty," Josie said. "He was sitting in the window."

  "I saw Josie go in and went after her. That's when the cat saw the door and made a beeline for outside," Eric explained.

  "And the crash?"

  "I bumped this big jar by the door and it fell over," Josie confessed with a worried look.

  "Oh boy," Tessa breathed. Mrs. Sherbourne is going to freak. Tessa glanced around. "Eric, where is that cat now?"

  Eric pointed at the shrubbery. "He went that way."

  "You'd better find that animal before it wanders into traffic or something worse."

  Eric plunged off the terrace into the green bushes, with his sister about to follow. Tessa stopped her. "Oh no, you don't, young lady. Josie, when we get home, you won't be allowed to do anything but go straight to your room."

  "Why?" Josie wailed.

  "You know why. Didn't I tell both of you to stay out of Mrs. Sherbourne's house? You made a huge mistake going inside when I distinctly told you not to."

  Josie opened her mouth to speak just as Eric burst through the wall of clematis and climbing roses that separated the yard from the driveway.

  Startled, Tessa lurched around, completely disturbing the plants she had just positioned. "What? Eric, what are you—"

  "Grab him, Mom!" Eric pointed to a white blur leaping through the lavender bed.

  Before she could move, Eric had followed the errant feline into the flower bed, his feet wreaking havoc as they flattened the delicate lavender blossoms.

  "Eric, stop chasing that animal this minute," Tessa yelled, closing her eyes as they both narrowly missed a collision with a flowering pink azalea.

  "You told me to find him," her son replied, looking wildly around for the cat as he skidded to a stop on the flagstone path.

  "Eeeewww! He's got a poor little mouse." Josie scurried to head off the cat, which was making for a patch of yellow mums.

  Tessa leaped up to run interference, but her move only caused the cat to swerve through the flower bed she had just planted, with Eric and Josie close behind, destruction in their wake. "My flowers!"

  "We've got him now!" Eric shouted triumphantly…though too soon.

  The cat raced for the fishpond. Tessa watched helplessly as her children stopped in time, but the cat misjudged the distance, slipped across the ledge of the pond and plopped into the water. Eric snatched up the furious feline, complete with a wet mouse dangling by the tail from the cat's mouth.

  Tessa glanced
at the wet Persian cat, who finally dropped the mouse but now was in a snit, spitting, growling and lashing his tail. "Eric, be careful. He might bite."

  Inspecting the cat, Eric said, "He doesn't look too happy."

  Tessa propped her hands on her hips. "That's an understatement. What did you think you were doing, Eric Doherty, chasing that cat around through my flowers?"

  "You told me to find him, Mom. Besides, I couldn't let him eat the mouse."

  "Cats are supposed to eat mice. That's their job."

  Josie tilted her head. "Did you want the little mouse to die, Mommy?"

  "No, of course not, honey. But some laws of nature aren't meant to be broken. Especially not on someone else's property, and certainly not when that someone is paying me to landscape her garden." Tessa studied the cat. "That animal is an absolute mess."

  Eric looked at the bedraggled white cat, his fur now streaked with mud and sopping wet, his tail twitching with temper. "He wouldn't win any show prizes, would he?"

  "Josie, run inside, find a bathroom and grab a towel so we can dry the cat."

  "You told me not to go into the house," Josie complained.

  Tessa exhaled, trying to keep her temper. "Now you can go into the house."

  Josie shook her head as she trudged toward the French doors. "Parents!" A few minutes later Josie emerged with a towel, but she wasn't alone. Mrs. Sherbourne was right behind her.

  When the woman reached the terrace she stopped as if she'd been shot. Her eyes darted right, then left before focusing on the squirming cat in Eric's arms. "Prince Puff Puff," she cried, "what have they done to you?" Mrs. Sherbourne rushed to snatch her cat from Eric's arms. "Oh, my poor poor little man, you look like an alley cat." She started to hug the animal but then stopped and held him out away from her while Josie threw the towel over her arm. Mrs. Sherbourne wrapped her precious pussycat in the yellow terry cloth before casting her stern eyes on Tessa.

  "Mrs. Doherty, what is going on here? Not only is my cat dripping wet, my flower beds a mess, which I did not pay to have happen, I might add, but—" she paused dramatically "—but my Lalique vase is in pieces on the floor. Didn't I tell you my house is off-limits, especially to children? If you are going to insist on bringing children with you, then I have no choice but—"

  Tessa rushed to speak. "No, oh no. It's just been the past few days until I can make other arrangements."

  Mrs. Sherbourne looked down her nose at her, something Tessa thought was impossible, but the haughty woman had perfected the technique. "See that you do, please, or I'll have to look for another designer."

  "Don't worry, Mrs. Sherbourne, I'll repair the garden. If you tell me the price of the vase I can arrange payments or perhaps free services if that would work?"

  Mrs. Sherbourne gave Tessa and her children a frosty glance. "It was a family heirloom given to me by my mother-in-law."

  Tessa felt her heart sink at the news. "Oh…oh, my God, I'm so sorry."

  Mrs. Sherbourne unbent enough to give her a chilly smile. "It's your good fortune that I have always considered that vase hideous. As for the payment, we'll discuss it later."

  Tessa stepped forward. "I can give your cat a bath if you'd like."

  "That won't be necessary. I'll call my groomer." Mrs. Sherbourne headed for the house, but looked back over her shoulder. "You'll have the repairs complete by the end of the day, I trust?"

  Tessa nodded. "Absolutely."

  With a wintry smile Mrs. Sherbourne inclined her head and then disappeared inside the house, leaving Tessa to deal with her children.

  "Wow, Mom," Eric breathed. "I thought you were getting fired for a minute there."

  Tessa glared at him and then Josie. "No thanks to you two. Take your sister and go to the van. Get some towels and dry off. I'll be right there."

  "Mom—" Eric began.

  "Right now. And not through the clematis. Go around." Tessa watched her children trudge through a gap in the hedge, then turned to survey the damage in the garden.

  It looked as if a tornado had passed through. Uprooted plants lay drying in the sun beside gouges in the freshly turned topsoil. A whole pile of mulch was scattered over the flagstone walk, and the brick edging she had laid so carefully that afternoon was half out of the ground. Tessa passed a hand over her face, wondering how many of the expensive, imported fish were now floating belly-up. No wonder Mrs. Sherbourne was shocked. She'd been expecting her spacious backyard to be turned into a peaceful santuary, not a war zone.

  Tessa glanced at her watch. Noon. If she skipped lunch maybe she could—On cue, her stomach rumbled, followed by an impatient honk from the van out front. Tessa sighed. She couldn't get any more work done until she took care of her children. And she might as well grab a bite while she was at it. Hopefully, her best friend Rhonda would be free to watch the kids for the rest of the afternoon.

  Just as Tessa stepped around the front of her dilapidated van, Eric pressed on the horn one more time. She jumped, then smiled ruefully, shaking her head at the two grinning children waiting for her. She knew they were good kids, really. It was just that kids and work didn't mix.

  To further prove the point, Eric and Josie seemed relieved when she suggested taking them to Rhonda's, making Tessa wonder if they truly enjoyed going to work with her as much as they claimed they did. Had they been trying only to make things easier for her? Josie was too young to understand all the ramifications of the divorce, but certainly at twelve, Eric was aware that their financial situation had changed to a more modest lifestyle.

  The van coughed and sputtered as she turned the key in the ignition and eased her foot down on the gas pedal. Sometimes it started right up, sometimes not. Tessa had planned to use the money she made on this Sherbourne job to have the van serviced. Who knew what would happen to her fees now and to her hopes of referrals.

  As Tessa ground the van into first gear, a siren wailed in the distance, followed by the commanding blast of an air horn. Even though she couldn't see the fire truck, Tessa pictured the huge red engine barreling to the rescue. Right now she almost wished someone would come to her rescue.

  And take away your hard-won independence? Who are you kidding, girl?

  Tessa halted the van at an intersection, releasing her shoulder-length hair from its ponytail and running her fingers through the damp strands. Since when had her conscience started sounding like Rhonda? She felt a tapping on her shoulder, and craned her neck to see Josie straining forward against the seat belt.

  "I'll help you fix the flowers tomorrow, Mommy."

  "Me, too, Mom." Eric nodded with masculine certainty, though his voice broke with a change in pitch. "No more video games at work, no chasing in the garden even if a grizzly bear is chowing down on Josie."

  "Hey," Josie protested.

  Is this what I want? What good is independence if my kids suffer for it? Tessa turned a troubled frown back to the traffic as the light changed. She hated to see Eric and Josie looking so unhappy, just when it seemed they'd all gotten through the worst after Colin had left. On the other hand, she'd worked too hard to give up yet.

  She'd just have to think of something. "Thanks for the offer, guys." Tessa spoke over her shoulder as she moved the van back into traffic. "Don't worry, I'll take care of everything without sacrificing Josie to a grizzly bear." Brave words, she thought as Josie giggled.

  All Tessa needed was a miracle.

  Chapter Two

  Tessa glanced at her watch for the third time, then tipped her head for a better look at the door of the restaurant. Eight-fifteen, and still no Rhonda. Her friend wasn't usually late, but then the vague message about dinner tonight she'd left pinned to Tessa's front door wasn't Rhonda's usual chatty style, either. Thank goodness Tessa's elderly neighbor had been able to watch the kids for a few hours.

  Come to think of it, this charming, out-of-the-way restaurant wasn't Rhonda's style, either. Tessa let her gaze wander. Rhonda preferred crowds and places that were ultra hip for their rare d
inners together without kids. Mama Gia's was quite the opposite. Worn paneling and intimate nooks lined the empty restaurant while small, cozy tables covered with red-checked cloths were arranged throughout the room. The heavenly aromas of oregano and garlic wafted from the kitchen behind her.

  Tessa's stomach growled. If Rhonda didn't show up soon, she might have to nibble on the candle dripping down the empty wine bottle in the middle of her table. Why had Rhonda been in such an all-fired hurry to get together, only to show up late?

  Tessa glanced once more at the wrinkled note. "'An answer to your problem,'" she read aloud.

  That told Tessa absolutely nothing. The number of problems in her life seemed to be multiplying like horny rabbits. But right now her biggest problem was the growing ache in her stomach. Even so, she couldn't help wondering which of her other problems Rhonda had been talking about. Maybe Rhonda had discovered a way to uncover Colin's hidden financial assets so Tessa could get the settlement she deserved after thirteen years of marriage without costing a fortune in lawyer's fees. Wouldn't that be nice?

  Her stomach growled again. Maybe she should start on a salad without Rhonda. Or better yet, some of those mouthwatering buttered bread sticks she'd seen on a table as she'd come in. Tessa leaned forward, lifting her arm to summon the young waiter standing near the menu rack.

  At that moment the door swung open and a man walked in. A good-looking man, she noted. He looked around quickly, his head turning her way at the very instant her hand shot up in the air. Tessa froze, forgetting to exhale when his gaze pinned hers.

  She almost forgot her hand was stuck up in the air, until she saw his dark eyes widen, then crinkle at the corners. Tessa snatched her hand to her lap, tucking her chin down, but it was too late. He was already weaving his way toward her.

  From the corner of her eye she watched his progress through the restaurant with mounting embarrassment and a touch of curiosity. He had dark hair—a bit too long—and smooth olive skin with just a suggestion of five-o'clock shadow. His well-muscled body skirted tables and dodged chairs with graceful ease. An athlete, Tessa thought, keeping her head low. Or just one of those lucky hunks with all the right equipment in all the right places. A shade over six feet tall, he displayed a compact strength beneath a blue knit golf shirt and well-worn jeans.