Читать книгу: «Her Holiday Family»

To the real Tina, one of the strongest and most amazing women I know. God blessed me the day we crossed paths in Denver, and He’s continued to do so ever since. I love you, Teenster. And to Terry, Sean, Dan and Ronnie, my siblings who served when I was too young to understand the amazing sacrifice they made. Thank you. I love you. Your dedication is inspiration to so many!

Acknowledgments

Big thanks to Tony and Debby Giusti who are always willing to offer me advice on my military heroes. Your expertise is invaluable and I’m so grateful! To Melissa Endlich and Giselle Regus for their well-tuned advice about how to strengthen Tina and Max’s story. Your advice produced a stronger book and I thank you! To Natasha Kern, my beloved agent, a woman with amazing patience and insight. I am so blessed to be working with you!

To Beth for all of her help and advice on how to write a better story. To the Seekers who are always there, ready to have my back as needed! To Basel’s Restaurant, a fun, family style Greek restaurant here in upstate where I spent eleven years waiting tables. Real life is the VERY BEST research. And to Lakeshore Supply Company, our new local hardware store: I’m so glad you moved to town! Charlie Campbell’s store came alive because of your delightful Hamlin and Hilton stores.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The old familiar voice stopped Tina Martinelli in her tracks as she stepped through the back door of Campbell’s Hardware Store late Sunday morning. “I’ll do whatever you need, Dad. I’m here to stay.”

Max Campbell was here? In Kirkwood Lake?

Max Campbell, her teenage crush. The Campbell son who’d enlisted in the army and had never looked back. Max Campbell, the to-die-for, dark-haired, brown-eyed, adopted Latino son who’d broken countless hearts back in the day? The guy who used to hang out at her neighbor’s house, until Pete Sawyer and his girlfriend lost their lives in a tragic late-night boating accident.

She’d never seen Max at the Sawyers’ again. Not to visit Pete’s parents. Not to offer Pete’s little sister, Sherrie, a hug. Abnormally quiet became the new normal.

No more Max, no more Pete, no more parties.

A lot had changed on one warm, dark summer’s night.

The wooden back door of Campbell’s Hardware swung shut before she could stop it, the friendly squeak announcing her arrival. She did a very feminine mental reassessment before moving forward.

Hair?

Typical elfin crazy.

Nails?

Short and stubby, perfect for a hardware clerk, but not for coming face-to-face with Max Campbell over a decade later.

Makeup?

She hadn’t bothered with any. She’d spent her early morning testing a new recipe, something she hoped to use in the not-too-distant future.

“Tina? That you?” The forced heartiness of Charlie Campbell’s voice said she had little choice but to move forward, so that’s what she did.

“I’m here, Charlie.” She strode into the store, shoulders back, chin high, when what she wanted was a thirty-minute makeover. Why hadn’t she worn her favorite jeans, the ones that made her feel young, jazzed and totally able to handle whatever life handed out?

Because you were coming to work in a hardware store, and who wears their best jeans to work in a hardware store?

The two men turned in tandem.

Her heart stopped when she locked eyes with Max.

She set it right back to beating with a stern internal warning because, despite Max’s short, dark hair and dangerously attractive good looks, the guy had left his adoptive family when he’d finished college and hadn’t come back since. And that was plain wrong.

“Tina, you remember our son Max, don’t you?” Pride strengthened Charlie’s voice, while the effects of his ongoing chemotherapy showed the reality of his current battle with pancreatic cancer. “He’s a captain now, but he’s come back home for a while.”

“For good, Dad.” Max’s gaze offered assurance tinged with regret, but life taught Tina that assurances often meant little and ended badly. Around Kirkwood Lake the proof was in the pudding, as Jenny Campbell liked to say. And Max had a lot of proving to do.

She stepped forward and extended her hand, wishing her skin was smoother, her nails prettier, her—

He wrapped her hand in a broad, warm clasp, sure and strong but gentle, too.

And then he did the unthinkable.

He noticed her.

His gaze sharpened. His eyes widened. He gripped his other hand around the first, embracing her hand with both of his. “This is little Tina? Little Tina Martinelli? For real?”

The blush started somewhere around her toes and climbed quickly.

Little Tina.

That’s what she’d been to him, an awestruck kid stargazing as the wretchedly good-looking youngest Campbell brother broke hearts across the lakeside villages. Max wasn’t what you’d call a bad boy...

But no one accused him of being all that good, either.

“It’s me.” She flashed him a smile, hoping her Italian skin softened the blush, but the frankness of Charlie’s grin said it hadn’t come close. “I—”

“It’s good to see you, Tina.”

Warmth. Honesty. Integrity.

His tone and words professed all three, so maybe the army had done him good, but she’d locked down her teenage crush a long time back. Over. Done. Finished. “You, too.”

Did he hold her hand a moment too long?

Of course not, he was just being nice.

But when she pulled her hand away, a tiny glint in his eye set her heart beating faster.

Clearly she needed a pacemaker, because she wasn’t about to let Max Campbell’s inviting smile and good looks tempt her from her newly planned road. Life had offered an unwelcome detour less than four weeks ago, when her popular café burned to the ground on a windswept October night. She’d watched the flames devour ten years of hard work and sacrifice, everything gone in two short hours. It made her heart ache to think how quickly things could change.

“You’re working here, Tina?” Max angled his head slightly, and his appreciative look said this was an interesting—and nice—turn of events.

“Tina came on board to help when I got sick,” Charlie explained. He indicated the waterfront southwest of them with a thrust of his chin. “She had the nicest little café right over there in Sol Rigby’s old mechanics shop. Put a lot of time and money into that place, a bunch of years. Her coffee shop became one of those places folks love to stop at, but it caught fire a few weeks back. The local volunteers did their best to save it, but the sharp north wind and the fire’s head start was too much. So Tina’s helping us out while we’re waiting for the dust to settle with my treatments.”

Concern darkened Max’s gaze as he turned her way, as if the loss of her beloved business mattered, as if she mattered.

Don’t look like that, Max.

Don’t look like you care that my hopes and dreams went up in smoke. That despite how I invested every penny and ounce of energy into building that business, it evaporated in one crazy, flame-filled night. You’re not the caring type, remember? When life turns tragic, you tend to disappear. And I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.

Tears pricked her eyes.

She’d been doing better these past few weeks. She could walk past the burned-out building and not shed a tear. Oh, she shed some mental ones each time, but she hadn’t cried for real since that first week, when rain or a puff of wind sent the smell of burned-out wood wafting through the village.

“Tina, I’m so sorry.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself. He appraised her, then stepped back. “You don’t mind teaching me stuff, do you? I’m pretty good with a grappling hook or an all-terrain vehicle on caterpillar treads. Put a semiautomatic in my hands and I’m on my game.” He made a G.I. Joe–type motion and stance, ready to stand guard for truth, justice and the American way. “But Dad’s new computerized cash registers?” He made a face of fear, and the fact that he steered the conversation away from her pain meant he recognized the emotion and cared.

Sure he cares. Like you’re a kid sister who just broke her favorite toy. Get hold of yourself, will you? “I’ll be glad to show you whatever you need, Max.” She shifted her gaze left. “Charlie, are you staying today?”

“Naw.” Frustration marred Charlie’s normal smile. “The treatments are catching up with me. When Max showed up at the house yesterday and said he was here to run the store for as long as we need him, well, I’ll tell you.” Charlie slapped a hand on his youngest son’s back. “It was a gift from God. I’d just told Jenny we needed someone here to help you and Earl, with the holidays coming up and all. And while I hate that your pretty little restaurant burned—”

The anxious look in the older man’s eyes made Tina recognize a timeline she was loathe to see.

“Having you here, and now Max, well...” Charlie breathed deep. “It’s easier for me to focus on getting well, knowing the store is in good hands. I know you’re not planning to stay in Kirkwood, Tina, but I thank God every night that we’ve got you here now. I hate having your mother—” he moved his gaze to Max while Tina fought a new lump of throat-tightening emotion “—worrying over me all the time. But you know her, there’s no keeping her from it. And while I’m not one to be fussed over, it’s good to have her on my side right now.”

* * *

Old guilt and his new reality gut-stabbed Max.

Time had gone by. Mistakes had been made. No matter how many battles he fought, no matter how many medals the army pinned on his chest, a part of him couldn’t move beyond the teenage boy who’d made a grievous error in judgment years ago.

He swallowed hard but kept his face even. “I should have come back sooner, Dad. I know that. But I’m here now, and I’ll do everything I can to make things easier for you and Mom. That’s if I can keep my mind on hardware with such pretty help.” He slanted a glance of pretended innocence Tina’s way.

His ruse of humor worked.

Charlie’s laugh lightened the moment. Tina looked like she wanted to mop the floor with him, making jokes at a moment of truth, but Max knew his father. Charlie Campbell would be the first to say that getting crazy emotional over must-have treatments and their outcomes wasn’t in anyone’s best interests.

You could have come back. You chose not to. That one’s all on you, soldier.

Max’s heart weighed heavy as Charlie picked up his car keys. Ten years of staying away, grabbing for a future because he couldn’t face the past. He’d lost time with his mother, his father, his siblings. Time that could never be regained.

Now he was home, determined to make amends and begin again. Charlie and Jenny Campbell had taken in a five-year-old boy, dumped by his mother the week before Christmas, and brought him to their sprawling lakeside home. They’d changed his life that day, given him a second chance not all children get.

He loved them for it. Now? Time to give back. And if reconnecting with his hometown meant facing old wrongs? Then it was about time he manned up and did just that because staying away hadn’t fixed anything. Over the years he’d faced enemies on three separate continents. He could handle Kirkwood Lake.

Once his father left the store, Max turned toward Tina.

“Don’t you dare break their hearts again, Max Campbell.”

He’d come home expecting emotional shrapnel.

Tina’s flat-out decree was more like a direct hit at close range. He started to speak, but Tina moved a half step forward, invading his space. “What were you thinking disappearing like that? All those years gone. What were you doing all that time?”

“My job?” He let his inflection say the answer was obvious, but he knew Tina was right. He could have come back. Should have come back. He’d missed weddings, baptisms, anniversaries and holidays. And he’d done it on purpose, because it was easier to face current danger than past lapses in judgment. He got careless and stupid, but he didn’t need this drop-dead gorgeous gray-eyed beauty to ream him out over it.

Although he preferred her sass to the tears she’d been fighting minutes before. Tears went hand in hand with high drama. If there was something Max steered clear of, it was high-drama women.

“Your job wasn’t 24/7/365.” She folded her hands across her chest, leveled him a look and didn’t seem at all fazed that he had her by a good seven inches and sixty pounds. Or that he was a munitions expert. Her bravado made him smile inside, but he held back, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate his amusement.

“I should have come back. Phone calls weren’t enough. I know that now.” He’d known it then, too, but it had been easier to stay away. Still, this was his personal business, not hers. Fortunately his straightforward admission helped take the wind out of her sails.

Good. He had no intention of being yelled at all day. With the high-volume sales of winter and holiday items upon them, he knew Campbell’s Hardware would be cranking. His job was to learn the new aspects of an old business ASAP, shouldering the work his parents did so naturally. “For the moment, if you can take a break from yelling at me, I need to learn as much as I can as quickly as I can to help out. Now we either do this together—” he mimicked her stance and saw her wince as if recognizing her stubbornness “—or we work as separate entities. But, Tina?” He held her gaze, waiting until she blinked in concession to continue.

Only she didn’t.

He shrugged that off mentally and stood his ground. “We’ve got to take care of this for Dad’s sake. And Mom’s. No matter how you might feel about me. Which means we might have to declare a truce, at least during working hours. Agreed?”

Her expression softened. She stared over his shoulder, sighed, then brought her eyes back to his. “Agreed.”

He refused to acknowledge her reluctance. Ten years in the service taught him to pick his battles. He’d seen her face when they’d talked of her business burning. He understood that working side by side with the Campbell prodigal probably hadn’t made her short list, and life had done a number on her.

But when she took a deep breath and stuck out her hand again, he realized that Tina Martinelli was made of pretty strong stuff. “Do-over,” she instructed.

He smiled, nodded and accepted her hand in his.

“Max, you might not remember me. I’m Tina Martinelli and I’m here to help your parents.”

He should resist. He knew it, knew it the minute her eyes locked with his. Held.

But he couldn’t and so he gave her hand a light squeeze and smiled. “Well, Tina, I do remember you, but what I remember is a pesky tomboy who whistled louder, ran faster and jumped higher than most of the guys around.”

The blush heightened again. Was it because he remembered or because he’d brought up her penchant for sports and winning? Max wasn’t sure, but he leaned closer, just enough to punctuate his meaning. “This Tina?” He shook his head, dropped her hand and stepped back. He didn’t give her a once-over because he didn’t have to. Her face said she understood. “This Tina is a surprise and I can’t say I’m sorry to be working with her. Reason enough to clean up and hurry into work each morning.”

“Which means we need to set ground rules.” She glossed over his compliment as if it hadn’t affected her. Max allotted her extra points for that and played along. “Employees are not allowed to fraternize outside of work.”

Max frowned. “My parents own this place and I’m going to guarantee they fraternize outside of work. That’s how they got to be parents.”

She bristled, looking really cute as she did. But he couldn’t think of that. There was work to be done so he held up a hand. “You’re right. I know you and Earl have been picking up a lot of slack, so my goal is to help you any way I can. If we can keep Mom and Dad from worrying about the store, Dad can focus on getting through his treatments. Getting well.”

“Then we share the same objective. Perfect.” She gave him a crisp nod as she moved to a stack of holiday-themed boxes. “As long as we keep our focus on that, we shouldn’t have any problems.”

Saucy and determined, the grown-up Tina wasn’t much different than she’d been years ago. He knew he should stop. Let her have the last word. But when she slanted a “keep your distance” look over her shoulder, he couldn’t resist. “Working for the government taught me to get around problems efficiently, Tina Martinelli. I expect that might come in handy now and then.”

* * *

Come in handy?

Not with her, it wouldn’t.

Oh, she saw the charm and self-assuredness that had drawn girls to Max back in their youth. Refined now, the charisma was more dangerous, almost volatile. But Tina hadn’t spent the last decade pining for her childhood crush. She’d managed to have her heart broken twice since, so Max could flirt and tempt all he wanted. It would do him no good.

Tina was immune.

You want to be immune, but face it, darling. Damp palms say something else entirely.

She shushed the internal warning, but when she leaned in to show Max how to engage cash register functions, the scent of him made her long to draw closer.

She didn’t. She ignored the fact that he smelled of sandalwood and soap and total guy, and that the flash of his smile brightened a room.

She didn’t need any rooms brightened, thank you. A few LED lightbulbs took care of that in a cost-effective way.

Over the years, she’d shrugged off her teenage attraction to Max as silly adolescent stuff. But today, seeing the straightforward warmth of the hardened but humorous man he’d become?

That might be tough to resist.

Fortunately Tina wasn’t in the market for anything in Kirkwood Lake these days. Least of all another broken heart. Been there, done that. Overrated.

She showed him through the layout of the store. His parents had done a complete remodel four years previous, making Max’s memories obsolete, and the first thing he noted out loud were the rotational seasonal displays set at four separate locations. “I expect this was my mother’s idea.”

Tina nodded as she unlocked the front door and officially opened the story for business. “She likes to go to regional conferences that teach how to build sales while keeping overhead in check.”

“Always a trick in retail.” Max nodded to the first customer in the door, a woman, carrying an older-model chain saw that had seen better days.

“Is Earl here yet?” The look she gave Tina and Max said she didn’t put much trust in their abilities.

“No, ma’am,” Max told her. “Not ’til noon. But maybe I can help?”

She looked at him, really looked, then formed her mouth into a grim line. “Maxwell Campbell, I do believe you still owe me for some flowers that went missing from my garden about twelve years back. Give or take a summer or two.”

Max’s grimace said his memory clicked to a younger version of the woman before him. “You’re absolutely correct, Mrs. Hyatt. Those would be red roses and I believe they found their way over to Sophie Benedict’s house. I’ll be happy to make that up to you now with my apologies for the delay. And ask your forgiveness, of course.”

The look she settled on him said maybe that was okay, and maybe it wasn’t. “How long have you served our country, young man?”

“Over a decade.”

Her mouth softened. Her shoulders relaxed. “I’d say we’re more than even.” She clapped a hand to his shoulder, hometown pride showing in her eyes, her smile. “Welcome home, Max. I expect your parents are most pleased to have you here, and just in time to share the holidays together.”

“Yes, ma’am. My mom goes a little bit crazy over Thanksgiving and Christmas, that’s for sure. And about that saw?” He dropped his gaze to the chain saw in her arms.

Her face said she was inclined to wait until Earl’s arrival nearly three hours later.

“If you bring it to Dad’s tool bench, I’d be glad to have a look.”

“If you think you can.” She didn’t try to mask the dubious note in her voice. “It’s been a long time since you’ve worked with your dad.”

“True.” He led the way to Charlie’s well-lit bench and table at the back corner, a popular gathering place for small-town talk and broken tools. “But I remember a thing or two. And working for Uncle Sam taught me a few new tricks. Let’s see what’s going on.” He examined the pieces, then nodded. “We’ve got a bad clutch. Tina, does Dad carry parts for all models in the back or just current ones?”

His quiet confidence in his abilities lightened Tina’s angst. Working for the Campbells helped them and her, but with Charlie out of commission and Earl on limited hours, she’d been fielding a lot of questions with few answers the past two weeks. Maybe having Max around wouldn’t be so bad, not if he could actually make sense out of the more difficult hardware inquiries. “I’ll check and see. If we have to order it, we won’t get it until next Tuesday, Mrs. Hyatt. Is that all right?”

“Tuesday’s fine with me. Then would you be able to fix it right away?” she wondered. She hesitated, looking a little uncomfortable, then explained, “I hate to push, knowing what’s going on with your dad and all, but I promised my husband I’d get this fixed before wood-cutting season. Once the cold hits, he’ll take to the woods for next year’s heating supply, but he can’t cut without his saw. And with the Festival of Lights coming up, I’m going to have my hands full. I expect you’re taking that over for your father, as well?”

Max sent a blank look from her to Tina and back. “Festival of Lights? I’m not following you.”

“The annual Christmas lighting event we’ve been doing for years,” Mrs. Hyatt replied. “This year it’s the final big event of our bicentennial celebration,” she continued. “Your dad heads up the committee, we use the funds raised from the park drive-through to support the women’s shelter in Clearwater, and Tina and I handle the food venues with a bunch of volunteers. That money helps stock food pantries all year long. Joe Burns is helping.” She ticked off her fingers, listing familiar names. “The Radcliffes, Sawyers and Morgans are all on board, as well. We’ve got everything planned out, of course, because it starts soon, but no one knows how to do lighting grids as well as Charlie Campbell.”

* * *

One phrase stood out.

The Sawyers. Pete’s family, Tina’s neighbors on Upper Lake Road. Pete used to love ditching both his little sister, Sherrie, and Tina. He and Max would take their small boat out and go fishing or girl-watching. When they were young, fishing took precedence. By the time they finished high school?

Partying had replaced fishing for Pete.

Regret speared Max. He shelved it purposely. He’d come back to help and make amends. Right now, helping took precedence, even if it meant coming face-to-face with Pete’s family sooner rather than later.

Business owners were taking advantage of today’s nice weather to hang festive garland. Town crews had manned a cherry-picker truck to string lights through Main Street trees, and decorated wreaths marked each old-fashioned light pole. Like it or not they were two weeks shy of Thanksgiving and the town was knee-deep in a project that depended on Charlie’s calm help and expertise.

“I’ll talk to my dad and see what I can do to help. We’ll cover it, Mrs. Hyatt. No worries.”

Her sigh of relief said he’d answered correctly. “And you’re okay with me coming by next Wednesday to pick up the saw?”

“I’ll put the part in as soon as it arrives,” Max promised. “If there’s any delay, we’ll give you a call.”

“That would be wonderful.” She watched as he filled out a tag with her name, gave him her phone number, then smiled, more relaxed than when she came into the store. “I expect you’ll both be at the final committee meeting Wednesday night?”

Special ops had prepared Max to tack with the prevailing wind, no matter what the mission. “Absolutely. When and where?”

“We used to have them at my café.” The resignation in Tina’s tone said her loss rubbed raw. “But Carmen Bianchi said we could meet in her apartment behind Vintage Place instead. Seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be there,” Max promised. “And we’ll be ready to implement Dad’s action plan, Mrs. Hyatt.”

“Good!” Her smile said his confidence appeased her concerns. Which meant he hadn’t lost his touch, but if he was coming face-to-face with the Sawyers in a few days, and expected to run this light show thing, he needed to get his mental ducks in a row. Fast.

Max watched Mrs. Hyatt walk out the door, then took the broken saw to the second bench. “I know Dad always puts them in back in the order they come in, but I don’t want to forget my promise to her.”

“Seeing it is a good reminder,” Tina replied. “And the back room is kind of crowded right now anyway.” She greeted someone, then waved another pair of customers upstairs to the “country store” shop, another one of his mother’s ideas. Fifteen years ago, folks had kind of ridiculed the idea of a home shop in a hardware store, but no one scoffed now. Campbell’s “Country Cove” on the second floor did enough winter business to pay the bills and record a profit, a huge plus in northern towns.

When Tina came back to the front, Max indicated the door and Mrs. Hyatt’s retreating back with a quick glance. “What have you been doing the past few weeks when customers like that came in? Did you send them elsewhere?”

“Come with me.” Tina led him into the back room, threaded a path through the overstock and the glass-cutting corner, then waved toward Charlie’s equipment fix-it zone for larger repairs. “This is what Earl’s been working on this past week when he was healthy enough to be here.”

Max counted eighteen separate tools in various stages of repair. “Are these due to be picked up soon?”