a mother.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “True.”
She moistened her lips, flustered. “It was really nice of you to bring the gifts.” Before he had a chance to reply, she rushed ahead. “Look, it’s Christmas, and we have plenty of food. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
His brows rose in surprise.
“I mean, I’m sure you have other plans.” She glanced into the empty space behind him. “But if not, we’d be happy to have you.”
He hesitated. “Actually, I don’t have other plans.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. “Well, great,” she said, forcing a smile. “Everything should be ready at noon.”
“You eat dinner at noon?”
Leah remembered that Californians didn’t use the same terms as Midwesterners. “Lunch, I should say.”
He gave her a curious look. “What’s your name?”
“Leah,” she said, careful not to add the n. Back in Kansas, she’d been Leanne. Now she was just Leah. Her identity, her family, her entire world—slashed.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, sticking out his hand.
She shook it quickly, noting that his palm felt warm and hard and as tough as leather. “See you at noon?”
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Smile faltering, she backed away, almost tripping over an uneven place in the sidewalk. He really needed to get that fixed.
Chapter 2
Leah made a traditional Christmas meal.
There was spiral ham, scalloped potatoes and fresh green beans. She’d steamed corn on the cob and made rolls from scratch. If anyone had room for dessert, she’d offer a warm cherry torte with vanilla ice cream.
Brian arrived on time, but Leah wasn’t quite ready. Mandy and Alyssa had been in high spirits all morning, running wild through the house. They tended to get overexcited on holidays, especially when Leah was too busy to discipline them. After she got fed up, threatening to take their presents away, they sat down to write Brian a thank-you note.
At the sound of the doorbell, she wiped her hands on a towel and went to answer it, glancing through the peephole. Her neighbor had cleaned up a little. His hair was combed back, his face freshly shaved. He’d also brought another gift—a large poinsettia.
Smoothing her apron, she opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
She waved him in, studying his appearance from beneath lowered lashes. He was older than she’d first estimated, at least thirty. Years of surfing or working outdoors had given him a rugged, weathered look. His T-shirt and jeans were far from new, but his boots were spotless and he smelled good. Like soap and sawdust.
She locked the door behind him, gesturing at the poinsettia. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“It was no trouble.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, accepting the gift. Their fingertips brushed as he transferred the plant to her. Heart jittering, she stuck the poinsettia on the coffee table, admiring its festive red leaves.
He nodded hello to the girls, who regarded him with curiosity. “I’m Brian,” he said. “You might remember me as Santa.”
“This is Mandy,” Leah said, touching her older daughter’s head, “and that’s Alyssa.”
“Pleased to meet you both.”
The girls shed their shyness like a winter coat. “I drew you a picture!” Alyssa said, hopping to her feet. She showed him a drawing of a stick figure in a red hat and coat, standing next to a colorful green triangle. Not to be outdone, Mandy brandished her own artwork, a thank-you note decorated with bows and boxes. “I made you a card.”
Brian weighed the merits of each offering, giving them equal attention. “I like the Christmas tree,” he said to Alyssa, who beamed at the praise. Smiling, he turned to Mandy. “And you write very well for a first-grader.”
“I’m in kindergarten,” she said.
“Really? You must be the smartest girl in class.”
She glanced sideways at Leah, her face solemn. Mandy wasn’t as good a reader as Brittany, one of the other students. But she tried very hard at school and Leah couldn’t have been more proud of her. “I’m not.”
He chuckled at her honesty. “What about you?” he asked Alyssa.
“I’m the best drawer,” she said, ever-humble.
“I can see that.”
“Why don’t you girls set the table?” Leah suggested.
While Mandy transferred the good plates from the hutch, Alyssa dispersed the silverware, and Leah walked to the kitchen to take the rolls out of the oven. It was a warm day, even by California standards, and she was sweating. Shifting the rolls into a basket, she pushed a lock of hair off her forehead.
“Can I do anything to help?” Brian asked.
“Yes,” she said, taking the basket to the table. “We need drinks.” She’d already set out cups of water for the girls. “Do you like iced tea?”
“Sure.”
“There’s a pitcher in the fridge, and glasses in the cabinet.”
He found the iced tea and poured them each a tall glass, following her as she moved the serving dishes to the table. Alyssa had given herself two spoons, so Leah switched one with Mandy, nodding her approval. “Let’s eat.”
She’d planned to sit at the head of the table, but Brian took that chair. Although it felt odd to see another man in John’s place, asking him to move would be impolite. Leah glanced at the pronged fork near his right hand, aware that it could be used as a weapon.
He seemed to notice her discomfort. “Is this okay?”
“Of course,” she said, as if nothing was amiss. Instead of sitting down, she stood beside Brian and picked up the sharp fork, spearing a juicy section of ham. She served him first, because he was a guest. Then she dispersed slices of ham to the girls and herself. Bringing the fork to the opposite end of the table with her, she sat down.
The side dishes were passed around next, and with slightly less trepidation. Alyssa expressed her hatred for all vegetables and Mandy dropped a dinner roll, but that was par for the course. Leah put her napkin in her lap and reminded the girls to do the same, noting that Brian mimicked them. He also waited for Leah’s cue to start eating.
She felt self-conscious about not trusting him with the pronged fork. Instead of making stilted conversation, she tucked into her plate, pleased when Brian did the same. Unlike her daughters, who were
