LITMIR.BIZ

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realized. Protecting Holly, reaching Sam, preparing for Christmas, keeping up with all of the holiday work she had to do for her clients... Oh, whom was she kidding? At the moment, Sam was uppermost in her mind. She was going to drag him back into the land of the living, and she had the distinct feeling he was going to put up a fight.

      “I’m thinking that maybe I’m in way over my head.”

      Deb sighed a little. “How deep is the pool?”

      “Pretty deep,” Joy mused, thinking about her reaction to him, the late-night talks in the great room where it was just the two of them and the haunted look in his eyes that pulled at her.

      Deb bumped her hip against Joy’s. “I see that look in your eyes. You’re already attached.”

      She was. Pointless to deny it, especially to Deb of all people, since she could read Joy so easily.

      “Yes,” she said and heard the worry in her own voice, “but like I said, it’s pretty deep waters.”

      “I’m not worried,” Deb told her with a grin. “You’re a good swimmer.”

      * * *

      That night, things were different.

      When Sam came to dinner in the dining room, Joy and Holly were already seated, waiting for him. Since every other night, the two of them were in the kitchen, he looked thrown for a second. She gave him a smile even as Holly called out, “Hi, Sam!”

      If anything, he looked warier than just a moment before. “What’s this?”

      “It’s called a communal meal,” Joy told him, serving up a bowl of stew with dumplings. She set the bowl down at his usual seat, poured them both a glass of wine, then checked to make sure Holly was settled beside her.

      “Mommy made dumplings. They’re really good,” the little girl said.

      “I’m sure.” Reluctantly, he took a seat then looked at Joy. “This is not part of our agreement.”

      He looked, she thought, as if he were cornered. Well, good, because he was. Dragging him out of the darkness was going to be a step-by-step journey—and it started now.

      “Actually...” she told him, spooning up a bite of her own stew, then sighing dramatically at the taste. Okay, yes she was a good cook, but she was putting it on for his benefit. And it was working. She saw him glance at the steaming bowl in front of his chair, even though he hadn’t taken a bite yet. “...our agreement was that I clean and cook. We never agreed to not eat together.”

      “It was implied,” he said tightly.

      “Huh.” She tipped her head to one side and studied the ceiling briefly as if looking for an answer there. “I didn’t get that implication at all. But why don’t you eat your dinner and we can talk about it.”

      “It’s good, Sam,” Holly said again, reaching for her glass of milk.

      He took a breath and exhaled on a sigh. “Fine. But this doesn’t mean anything.”

      “Of course not,” Joy said, hiding the smile blossoming inside her. “You’re still the crabby man we all know. No worries about your reputation.”

      His lips twitched as he tasted the stew. She waited for his reaction and didn’t have to wait long. “It’s good.”

      “Told ya!” Holly’s voice was a crow of pleasure.

      “Yeah,” he said, flicking the girl an amused glance. “You did.”

      Joy saw that quick look and smiled inside at the warmth of it.

      “When we went to town today I played with Lizzie’s puppy,” Holly said, taking another bite and wolfing it down so she could keep talking. “He licked me in the face again and I laughed and Lizzie and me ran and he chased us and he made Lizzie fall but she didn’t cry...”

      Joy smiled at her daughter, loving how the girl could launch into a conversation that didn’t need a partner, commas or periods. She was so thrilled by life, so eager to experience everything, just watching her made Joy’s life better in every possible way. From the corner of her eye, she stole a look at Sam and saw the flicker of pain in his eyes. It had to be hard for him to listen to a child’s laughter and have to grieve for the loss of his own child. But he couldn’t avoid children forever. He’d end up a miserable old man, and that would be a waste, she told herself.

      “And when I get my puppy, Lizzie can come and play with it, too, and it will chase us and mine will be white cuz Lizzie’s is black and it would be fun to have puppies like that...”

      “She’s really counting on that puppy,” Joy murmured.

      “So?” Sam dipped into his stew steadily as if he was hurrying to finish so he could escape the dining room—and their company.

      Deliberately, Joy refilled his bowl over his complaints.

      “So, there aren’t any white puppies to be had,” she whispered, her own voice covered by the rattle of Holly’s excited chatter.

      “Santa’s going to bring him, remember, Mommy?” Holly asked, proving that her hearing was not affected by the rush of words tumbling from her own mouth.

      “That’s right, baby,” Joy said with a wince at Sam’s smirk. “But you know, sometimes Santa can’t bring everything you want—”

      “If you’re not a good girl,” Holly said, nodding sharply. “But I am a good girl, right, Mommy?”

      “Right, baby.” She was really stuck now. Joy was going to have to go into Boise and look for a puppy or she was going to have a heartbroken daughter on Christmas morning, and that she couldn’t allow.

      Too many of Joy’s childhood Christmases had been empty, lonely. She never wanted Holly to feel the kind of disappointment Joy had known all too often.

      “I told Lizzie about the fairy house we made, Sam, and she said she has fairies at her house, but I don’t think so cuz you need lots of trees for fairies and there’s not any at Lizzie’s...”

      “The kid never shuts up,” Sam said, awe in his voice.

      “She’s excited.” Joy shrugged. “Christmas is coming.”

      His features froze over and Joy could have kicked herself. Sure, she planned on waking him up to life, but she couldn’t just toss him into the middle of a fire, could she? She had to ease him closer to the warmth a little at a time.

      “Yeah.”

      “I know you said no decorations or—”

      His gaze snapped to hers, cold. Hard. “That’s right.”

      “In the great room,” she continued as if he hadn’t said a word, as if she hadn’t gotten a quick chill from the ice in his eyes, “but Holly and I are here for the whole month and a little girl needs Christmas. So we’ll keep the decorations to a minimum.”

      His mouth worked as if he wanted to argue and couldn’t find a way to do it without being a complete jerk. “Fine.”

      She reached out and gave his forearm a quick pat. Even with removing her hand almost instantly, that swift buzz of something amazing tingled her fingers. Joy took a breath, smiled and said, “Don’t worry, we won’t be too happy around you, either. Wouldn’t want you upset by the holiday spirit.”

      He shot her a wry look. “Thanks.”

      “No problem.” Joy grinned at him. “You have to be careful or you could catch some stray laugh and maybe even try to join in only to have your face break.”

      Holly laughed. “Mommy, that’s silly. Faces can’t break, can they, Sam?”

      His brown eyes were lit with suppressed laughter, and Joy considered that a win for her. “You’re right, Holly. Faces can’t break.”

      “Just

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