Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
D ecember 24th
“Really, Paul. This isn’t necessary.” Hannah climbed out of Paul Richardson’s Jeep, gingerly putting weight on her left foot. “I’m perfectly capable of feeding the dogs and cats; it will just take a bit longer than usual.”
“You’re one of those independent women, aren’t you?” He shot her a teasing smile as he rounded the front of the vehicle to cup her elbow, steadying her wobbly stance. “I grew up with three older sisters, all of whom bragged they could do it faster and better than any man.”
“Do what?” Hannah asked grumpily.
“Everything and anything.” He escorted her across the icy parking lot, releasing his hold once she was on the cement walkway. Tommy–or Frank–had salted the front entrance earlier in the day, turning most of the snow and ice into slush. With the sun dropping below the horizon, the temperatures would dip as well, causing everything to freeze over again.
“I already told you I want to help.” He stepped quick to pull the front door open, waiting until she was through to follow. “It’s not like I have big plans for Christmas Eve.”
“You already helped this morning.” She sank onto a bench, sighing in relief.
Atlas had done more than spill Paul’s coffee. Wiggling with excitement, he’d backed into Hannah, tangling the leash around her ankles so that she tripped, landing in the man’s lap. When she tried to stand, her legs went out from under her. The stranger–Paul Richardson–kindly escorted her to Doc Goodwin’s office downtown, where he diagnosed a moderate ankle sprain. By the time she limped out of the exam room in a hard plastic boot, Paul and Atlas had become besties.
“Before you object–again,” he stressed the word for emphasis, “you’re the one doing me a solid.”
“That’s ridiculous. I should have kept better control of Atlas.” She shook her head, humiliated as she remembered yesterday’s encounter. “He ruined your jacket, and you’re lucky that hot coffee didn’t splash your face.”
“I only wore that jacket because my mom got it for me last Christmas. Honestly, I hated the darn thing. I’m more of a wool overcoat kind of guy.” He sat next to her on the bench, prompting a burst of heat that had nothing to do with the vent above them pumping warm air into the reception area. “If I wasn’t here helping you feed the creatures, big and small, I’d be nuking a frozen dinner and watching replays on one of the sports channels.”
“Not a pleasant way to spend Christmas Eve,” she agreed.
“No. Not when you’re accustomed to the noise and chaos generated by five nephews and four nieces under ten. Throw in a few aunts and uncles, friends and neighbors, and you can imagine how unappealing the idea of peace and quiet is.” His tone grew serious.
“Is this your first Christmas away from family?”
“Yes. My company transferred me two weeks ago to troubleshoot a new office opening in Stroudsburg. The manager quit unexpectedly, and we’re behind schedule. I couldn’t afford time off to fly home for the holidays.”
“Where is home?”
“Portland.”
“Maine?”
“Oregon.”
“Oh.”
“Are you originally from here?” he asked.
“No. I grew up in Greenwood, a small town outside of Indianapolis.”
“Is your family still there?”
“It’s just me.” She cringed at how pathetic that sounded.
“For now, it’s just us.” His eyes turned down at the corners as he offered a crooked smile, the combination boyish and vulnerable. “Maybe that can be enough for now.”
There was a hint of promise in his words, but Hannah told herself she was reading too much into his kindness. Although she barely knew him, she knew enough to realize they were complete opposites. Paul was early thirties, well-traveled, professionally accomplished, confident, and part of a large, rowdy, loving family. She was a shy, small-town homebody who’d spent the last several Christmases with animals.
“It’s easier not to argue,” Paul said softly.
He was right. The sooner she had the dogs and cats fed, the sooner he would be on his way.
“All right, let’s get this done.” She got to her feet.
“You make it sound like you’re getting a root canal.” Paul’s deep rumble eased the tightness in Hannah’s chest. “Come on. This is supposed to be fun.”
“Not when your ankle hurts like hell, another two feet of snow is on the way, and you’re forced to rely on the goodness of a stranger to drive you across town because you can’t walk.”
Before she realized his intent, Paul had swung her up into his arms.
“Oof!” she squealed, circling her arms around his neck.
“I’d say we’re past the stranger part,” he muttered. “Can’t we be friends?”
Friends, indeed! Paul was the kind of guy women dreamed of. A decent, hardworking, family man who loved dogs. Oh, she couldn’t leave out the fact that he was good looking, muscular, and smelled like fresh air and pine.
“Okay. Friends.”
He carried her through the kennels, frenzied barking rising around them as the dogs sensed dinner was coming. Atlas, in particular, reacted with canine glee when he caught sight of Paul.
“I swear, that dog is in love with you.” She glanced over his shoulder, watching Atlas pace in his kennel.
“My family had two Australian Shepherds when I was in high school. Blue and Bella. Blue was mine. God, I miss him.”
“June, the shelter manager, puts a lot of effort into matching dogs with the right family. We’ve had trouble placing Atlas because most people aren’t prepared to deal with his energy levels and working dog instincts, but he’s a sweetheart.”
“Are you matchmaking, Hannah? Trying to fix me up with a dog by selling me on its great personality?”
Her cheeks heated, but she was encouraged he hadn’t instantly nixed the possibility. “Just think about it. I mean, I know nothing about your lifestyle or future plans, but dogs are awesome companions. Especially when you’re far from family.”
“How about you? Any furballs at home?”
“No. My landlord doesn’t allow pets. There aren’t a lot of rentals in town, but as soon as I have my own place, I want at least two dogs and a cat.”
He eased her onto a stool in the workroom where supplies were kept, first aid and minor medical treatments were performed, and huge bins of dry kibble were stored. There were usually several animals on special diets, mostly the puppies and kittens, but Rose had found fosters to house them during the holidays. It made feeding the rest of the dogs and cats easier and faster.
Paul had helped with the morning feeding and needed little prompting to prepare a rolling cart with dry food and fresh water.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked.
“It still hurts.”
“I thought it might, so I called and asked your doctor to expedite an order for a knee scooter. The medical supply company dropped it off after we left this morning. Tommy texted me confirmation.”
“Wait.” She shook her head as if to clear away muddled thoughts. “You and Tommy are texting? You just met him today.” The three men had bonded over the promised breakfast of huge, gooey frosted cinnamon rolls and hot cocoa.
“So what? I mentioned there might be a delivery, and he offered to let me know when it arrived.”
“Just like that?” She would jump through flaming hoops before asking for help. Paul made it seem…easy.
“You’re a complicated woman, Hannah.” He tilted his head, gauging her reaction. “You give up your holidays so others can celebrate with friends and family. You drag yourself out in the snow and single-digit temperatures to feed stray animals. You even risk bodily harm to make sure one troublemaking dog gets his daily walk. You give so generously but refuse to accept help when it’s offered in return. Why is that?”
“Why does it matter?” Hannah turned away, uncertain how to respond.
She wasn’t accustomed to people reading her on such an intuitive level. It was like Paul could see past her defenses to the scars she carried on her heart. Her mother’s neglect, the apathy of foster care workers and families, feeling invisible when she’d been forced to ask for handouts when she lived on the streets. June’s love and support had started the healing process, but then she, too, was gone.
Leaving Hannah alone and on her own.
Again.
She turned to meet Paul’s gaze. Now he looked uncomfortable, hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans, shoulders hunched.
“This is going to sound crazy,” he admitted. “Just go with me for a minute here, will you?”
She nodded.
“I was sitting on that park bench, feeling sorry for myself. Missing my family. Wishing I was home. Second guessing my decision to accept the job transfer. I was dreading the thought of spending Christmas alone, and then you literally fell into my arms. My mom is a big believer in signs and everything happening for a reason, and some of that rubbed off on me.” He shrugged, self-conscious.
Hannah felt herself soften. She reached out to lay her fingers across Paul’s fist, gripping the handle of the wheeled cart.
“This isn’t even close to a traditional Christmas celebration, but I’m not alone. I’m helping a dedicated young woman take care of animals without someone to love them.” He took her hand, rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckles. “I want to spend time with you. Get to know you. I like you…what little I know about you. But I sense you’re cautious about opening up to people. Letting them get close.”
“That’s true,” she admitted, keeping her eyes locked on their joined hands.
“I hate to think we could be missing out on something special because you’re afraid and I’m pressing too hard.”
With sudden clarity, she realized Paul was right. Every time someone tried to get close, she came up with an excuse to keep her distance. A perfect example was Rose’s invitation to join her family for Christmas. She’d been asking Hannah for years, and for years, Hannah had refused.
An even better example? A nice guy offering to help out at the animal shelter because she had an injured ankle. A smart, sexy eligible guy who, unbelievably, seemed interested in her, and she’d defaulted to her standard response.
No. I don’t need help. I can take care of myself.
Maybe she could, but what would it be like not to have to? To lean on someone. To share the burden. To believe not everyone would let her down.
“Those are some deep thoughts you’re thinking.” He nudged her playfully, an attempt to lighten the mood.
“I need a do-over,” she said, a lightness in her soul making the words breathy. “Paul Richardson, will you please help me feed the animals at Furry Friends?”
“Yes, but I find I’m also in need of assistance.” Humor glinted in his warm brown eyes.
“Maybe I can return the favor?”
“I’m sure you can. In fact, you’re the only one who can help me out of a bind.” Taking her hands in his, Paul looked down into Hannah’s face. “Will you spend Christmas Eve with the new guy in town?”
“I’d love to.” She squeezed his fingers, excitement and anticipation building fast. “Now, where’s that scooter thing?”