The house phone rang and Sparkle answered without looking at the caller ID.
“Brantley residence.”
“Sparkle? Oh, it’s so nice to finally talk to you!”
A female voice… A very happy voice that she didn’t know.
“Thank you very much… I guess…” she replied, carrying the phone back to the window so she could look outside. “I’m sorry, but who is this?”
“Oh, God, you’re right! I didn’t introduce myself… How stupid of me,” the woman said with a delighted laugh. “I’m Catherine Brantley, Kaleb’s mother.”
Whoa! A wave of embarrassment swept over her. Sparkle was standing in Kaleb’s bedroom, beside the bed where they&rsq
Five stitches, three hot chocolates, and one Christmas tree ready later, they were in the great room, watching the lights on the big pine in the front window shine. There were popcorn chains and candy canes they’d bought in town as decorations. And there was an exhausted but happy little girl, asleep on the couch, a smile still curving her lips. Sparkle brushed Hayzel’s hair back from her forehead and kissed the neat row of stitches. It had been a harrowing, scary ride down the mountain to the clinic in town. But Kaleb had been a rock. Steady, confident, he’d already had Hayzel in his arms heading for his truck by the time Sparkle had come downstairs at a dead run. Hearing her baby scream, watching her fall, and then seeing the
Sparkle spent the next few days taking care of her business. She buried the pain beneath layers of carefully constructed indifference and focused on what she had to do. In between taking care of her clients, she made meals for Kaleb and froze them. Whatever else happened after she left this house, he wouldn’t starve. If she had her way, she wouldn’t leave. She’d stay right here and keep hammering at his hard head until she got through. And maybe, one day, she’d succeed. But then again, maybe not. So, she couldn’t take the chance. It was one thing to risk her own heart, but she wouldn’t risk Hayzel’s. Her daughter was already crazy about Kaleb. The longer they stayed here in this house, the deeper those feelings would go.&n
For the next few days, Kaleb settled back into what his life was like pre-Sparkle and Hayzel. He worked on his secret project, which didn’t really need to be a secret anymore because he always finished what he started. He tried to put them out of his mind, but how could he when he sensed Sparkle in every damn corner of his house? In Martha’s suite, Sparkle’s scent still lingered in the air. But the rooms were empty now. No toys, no stuffed dog. Sparkle’s silky red robe wasn’t hanging on the back of the door, and that pitiful excuse for a Christmas tree was gone as if it had never been there at all. Every night, Kaleb sat in the great room in front of the fire and looked at the tree in the window. That it was there amazed him. Thinking about the night he, Sparkle, and Hayzel had
He carried Hayzel and followed behind Sparkle as she walked into the house and then turned for the great room.“I’ve got a couple of surprises for you two.”“For Christmas?” Hayzel gave him a squeeze, then as she saw what was waiting for her, she squealed.“Oh, my goodness!” That quick gasp was followed by another squeal, this one higher than the one before. She squirmed to get out of Kaleb’s arms, then raced across the room to the oversize fairy castle dollhouse sitting in front of the tree. Beside him, Kaleb heard Sparkle give a soft sigh. When he looked at her, there were tears in her eyes and a beautiful smile on her amazing mouth. His heart gave another hard lurch, and he welc
Kaleb Brantley hated December and everything that had to do with it. The days were too short, making the nights seem as long as forever. It was colder than hell and dark… But, most of all, there was the incessant Christmas badgering. Lights, trees, carols, and an ever-increasing barrage of commercials urging you to shop, spend, buy. And every reminder of the holiday season ate at the edges of his soul and heart like drops of acid. He scowled at the roaring flames in the fireplace, slapped one hand on the mantel, and rubbed his fingers over the polished edge of the wood. With his gaze locked on the flames, Kaleb told himself that if he could, he’d wipe the month of December from the calendar.“If you wish, you can’t stick your head in the snow and pretend Christmas isn’t
Early the following day, Martha was off on her vacation, and a few hours later, Kaleb was swamped by the empty silence. He reminded himself that it was how he liked his life best. No one bothering him. No one talking to him. One of the reasons he and Martha got along so well was that she respected his need to be left the hell alone. So now that Kaleb was by himself in the big house, why did he feel an itch along his spine?“It’s because… it’s December,” Kaleb muttered aloud. That was enough to explain the sense of discomfort that clung to him. Hell, every year, this one damn month made life absolutely unlivable. He pushed a hand through his hair, then scraped that hand across the stubble on his jaw. What the
‘Hello, Mr. Scrooge!’ Sparkle thought… ‘Well, this is starting off well.’“Thank you very much for the info,” she said, desperately trying to hang on to the smile curving her mouth as well as her optimistic attitude. “But I’m not lost. I’ve just come from town.” If anything, his frown deepened.“Then who are you and why are you here? What do you want?”“Nice to meet you, too,” Sparkle said, half tugging Hayzel behind her. Not that she was afraid of him but why subject her little girl to a man who looked like he’d rather slam the door in their faces than let them in?“I repeat,” he said, “who are you, and why are you here?”“I&rsqu
A few hours in the workshop didn’t improve Kaleb’s mood. Not a big surprise. How the hell could he clear his mind when it was full of images of Sparkle Pearce and her daughter? As her name floated through his mind again, Kaleb deliberately pushed it away, though he knew damn well she’d be sliding back in. Slowly, methodically, he ran the hand sander across the top of the table he was currently building. For now, that was better than painting. It had been six years since he’d picked up a paintbrush, faced a blank canvas, and brought the images in his mind to life. The desire was always there, humming through his blood, through his dreams. But though he couldn’t paint, Kaleb also couldn’t simply sit in the big house staring out windows, either.&