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job, so stop being an
ass-wipe and stop beating yourself up.”
    Tom could be a
damn psychologist. “You’re right. But, if you had seen the girls’ smiles turned
into frowns when they came downstairs on Thanksgiving morning and they didn’t
smell a bird cooking in the oven, you’d know how I feel. Then like a stupid
idiot,” he continued, despite a tightening jaw, “I told them we were going out
to eat and afterwards I had to go to work. Like it was any other day. But it
wasn’t any other day. It was fuckin’ Thanksgiving. I felt like I’d failed them.
Their expressions nearly ripped my heart out.”
    He down the last
swallow of Irish coffee and pulled a breath in behind it, before squaring his
shoulders. “Christmas is going to be rough for them, with their mom and dad so
far away. They’ve never been apart from each other. Somehow I need to make the
holiday special.”
    “Get them a pair
of kittens. I think Amos Knittle mentioned their cat had a litter a few weeks
back. You know Amos. The town clerk. Little girls love kittens.”
    “No.”
    “A puppy?”
    “No more pets. I
trip over the girls’ rabbit now. They hate seeing Buzzy in a cage. The rabbit
thinks he’s a dog. He follows them around. I never saw a rabbit that liked to
be held and brushed as much as this one does.”
    “Okay.” Tom
scratched his chin. “I can help. I’ll make a holiday feast and bring it out to
the house. The local fire company volunteers would appreciate you not
attempting to cook something new.”
    Hearing Batmen’s
hearty chuckle, Dylan’s spirits lifted. A smile pulled at his lips. “Funny.
Thanks for the offer, but I can’t ask you to do that. You have your hands full
here. You’re open on Christmas, right?”
    “Yeah, the
mountain doesn’t shut down, so neither do I.” He grabbed the whiskey bottle and
placed it back on the shelf. “Look, what’s the difference if you eat my food
here or at your own table?”
    “I appreciate the
offer, but I sort of would like to make dinner on my own. Let the girls help.
Make it a family event. I was thinking of making something Elly made for them,
like her Flaming Maple Salmon. The girls asked for it several times—whenever
I’ve made them tuna sandwiches for dinner.”
    “Whoa, I have one
friend who is getting over a fire loss this week and holding it together by a
mind thread. I don’t need another one.”
    “Knock it off. I’m
not that incompetent in the kitchen. Who—”
    Tom’s cell rang
and he snatched it off his belt. “Hold that thought,” he said, holding up an
index finger, and then spoke into the phone. “Hey. Where are you? Great. The
door’s open. I’m in the bar.”
    The guy’s face
beamed as he laid the phone down on the polished wood. “I’m glad you stopped in
tonight, buddy. I want you to meet someone special. She’s going to be staying
with me for a week. Hopefully longer.”
    Surprise cocked
his brow. He really didn’t feel in the mood to meet anyone, but Tom hadn’t
mentioned a woman before and his curiosity level shot toward the rafters twenty
feet above. “You have a woman?”
    “A friend. You’re
going to love her.” Angleman’s eyes lit up as they lifted over his head and the
guy’s grin stretched from dimple to dimple. “Here she is. Hi, sweetheart. My
God, look at you.”
    As his friend
circled the bar, Dylan swung the bar stool around, meeting the sparkling green
eyes of the woman entering the room. His stomach did a backflip. Never in his
wildest dreams would he have guessed quiet Tom, the burly giant who spent ten
hours every day slaving over the food he prepared for customers and another six
hours serving it, would have the time or the energy to find a woman as gorgeous
as the one that walked toward them.
    “I almost didn’t
recognize you.” Tom hoisted her small frame into a bear hug and whirled her
around.
    “I know.” She
laughed. “It’s been a long—”
    Dylan slid off the
chair, admiring the women’s