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A Family For The Holidays
When two orphaned boys and their aunt arrive for Thanksgiving supper at church, retired army colonel Brett Stanton feels his heart tugged. Despite having her hands full, young businesswoman Haley Jennings handles her nephews with a smile. Still, Brett can’t get too close to the needy trio. He lost his son and brother to the uniform, and isn’t about to set himself up for loss again. Soon sweet Haley and the boys remind him of old dreams—and teach him that new dreams provide the greatest hope for a perfect family Christmas.
This man had a take-charge attitude that calmed Haley without a word being spoken.
Colonel Brett Stanton squatted to the boys’ level, but didn’t invade their space. His sensitivity loosened their grip on Haley’s hands, as if they were willing to meet the big guy halfway. A neat trick, all told.
“You hungry, boys?”
“Yes.” Todd nodded, emphatic.
“Starving.” Tyler sent a bullish look Haley’s way. “She drove all day.”
The man appeared to weigh Tyler’s words. “Traveling on a holiday can be tough.” Deep hazel eyes held her attention for short seconds but long enough to make her heart trip faster. Beat harder. “Does she have a name?”
“Aunt Haley.” Tyler said the words with more than a little distrust.
“She’s pwetty.” Todd leaned a little closer to the man now, too, following his brother’s lead. “And I like her yellow hair.”
“It’s drop-dead gorgeous,” the man agreed easily. He tossed that crooked smile up to Haley, winked at her and reached for the boys’ hands. “You guys ready to have Thanksgiving dinner with us?”
RUTH LOGAN HERNE
Born into poverty, Ruth puts great stock in one of her favorite Ben Franklinisms: “Having been poor is no shame. Being ashamed of it is.” With God-given appreciation for the amazing opportunities abounding in our land, Ruth finds simple gifts in the everyday blessings of smudge-faced small children, bright flowers, freshly baked goods, good friends, family, puppies and higher education. She believes a good woman should never fear dirt, snakes or spiders, all of which like to infest her aged farmhouse, necessitating a good pair of tongs for extracting the snakes, a flat-bottomed shoe for the spiders, and for the dirt...
Simply put, she’s learned that some things aren’t worth fretting about! If you laugh in the face of dust and love to talk about God, men, romance, great shoes and wonderful food, feel free to contact Ruth through her website at www.ruthloganherne.com.
His Mistletoe Family
Ruth Logan Herne
These things I have spoken unto you,
that in me ye might have peace.
In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of
good cheer; I have overcome the world.
—John 16:33
This book is dedicated to LuAnn and Charlie Koch, dear friends who shared so much with so many.
God certainly blessed me when he put you guys
in my life over thirty years ago. Your love for God and Allegany County fed mine.
And to Melissa Endlich,
whose ongoing advice, humor and guidance
blesses each and every book I write, even though the image of a non-coffee-drinking NYC editor
just seems wrong. So wrong!
Acknowledgments
First to LuAnn and Charlie for the stories they shared. To Dana Guinnip of Angelica, New York,
for his advice on firefighting, chicken and biscuits and where to stage an accident scene.
To The Seekers (www.seekerville.blogspot.com) for their constant support and encouragement. You guys keep me laughing and grounded. To Tina and Mary for road-tripping with me when so few dare! To Deb Giusti for always answering my military questions and never acting tired. To Homer Marple for establishing the Craft and Antique Co-op. His vision inspired “Bennington Station.” To Vince, who is never afraid to challenge me, and I love a good challenge. To Beth and Mandy for their continued hands-on help with little things that make me look way smoother than I am. And my family, who continue to believe that following your dream is the best way to go. I couldn’t agree more. Thank you for the daily encouragement, the hugs, the grins and the book sales. You guys mean the world to me.
Contents
Chapter One
Despair should never be allowed to rule Thanksgiving Day.
Haley