Journey of the Magi (2 page)

She lifted Nicholas onto her shoulder before she slanted a glance at her prospective employer. Something about him reached into her heart and squeezed. He polished the heavy glasses with care, his grip strong and sure.

He was no Mel Gibson or Tom Cruise. His features were harsh as the northern Minnesota winter blowing down from Canada. His cheekbones stood out stark and hard as the frozen drifts while his large nose projected over a strong full mouth. Only his brown eyes earned another glance. Set deep under heavy brows, they were soft and warm as a teddy bear’s fur.

While she nursed the baby, the bearded guy paid his tab and left. The giggling couple, with their arms twined around each other, looked in love.

Noel envied them as they shared the warmth of their embrace as they braved the storm. With a hollow feeling she turned back to Dan. Gently rubbing Nick’s back, she waited for the loud burp he gave when finished. He obliged, and Dan looked over at them.

“Pretty noisy, isn’t he?” His smile was sunrise warm and glowing, full of promise. Noel licked her dry lips.

There was no way he could be called handsome, but she couldn’t drag her gaze away from his sensuous mouth. His broad chest slimmed to a trim waist, reminding her of the hero in westerns. She blinked and looked away. She had no time for silly fantasies.

The baby burped again, and Noel laid him on the booth’s seat. Her tired arms ached, but Nicholas would sleep all night now. Holly yawned and cuddled closer.

Noel refastened her nursing bra and the top buttons on her blouse. The man didn’t seem to notice, and the tension in her neck eased.

“Mom? I can’t sleep until you tell me our story,” Holly whispered.

“The one about home?”

When Holly nodded, Noel smiled. This had become their nightly routine. Over the last few months she’d recalled many fond memories of her childhood and shared them with her daughter. “We’re going home to a big house with a bedroom with pink curtains and bedspread for my girl.”

“How do you know?” Holly asked for what had to be the hundredth time.

“I lived there with my grandparents and that was my room. There’s a wide porch on the front with rocking chairs.” Noel brushed her hand over Holly’s soft hair. “We can take off our boots before going inside and put sleds near the door.”

“When will we be there?”

“For Christmas, baby, I promise this year we’ll be home for Christmas.” Noel’s chest ached with longing to be home.

After a few moments Holly’s warm weight showed she’d fallen asleep, and Noel laid her on the bench. She folded a small blanket into a tube and wedged it next to Nick so he couldn’t roll off the seat. Stretching, she walked to the counter.

“Is that job still open?”

“I need a waitress.” His rich voice woke tingles of awareness that she’d forgotten, or maybe never knew.

“Is that a yes or a no?” she asked impatiently. These unfamiliar feelings were scary and unwelcome. She was too tired to be diplomatic and this job was too important.

“What are you going to do with them?” He jutted his chin toward her children.

“I, I d-d-don’t know,” Noel stammered before she slumped onto the nearest stool. Leaning forward onto her elbows, she looked at her clasped hands. “I didn’t plan that far.”

“Humph!”

Noel watched his long, strong fingers dexterously polish another glass. His wide palms held the heavy restaurant-ware like fine china. He had nice hands, a gentle touch. Instinct murmured he’d be as careful with a woman.

“I guess I should move on. I…”

“Could keep the kids next to the kitchen, there’s a place there. Then if they needed you, you’d be right close.” His deep voice was like an angel’s song.

“Thank you,” she breathed. Tears clouded her eyes.

“Don’t get all mushy on me, y’hear? I’m only doin’ this ’cause I need a waitress. I’m making the restaurant bigger, and with Thelma trotting off to the city...” He ran a hand over his thick brown hair, rumpling the top so a lock fell like a question mark across his wide forehead. She wanted to brush it back, feel the silky strands between her fingers.

Noel shook her head. Her thoughts were all over the place. He looked so uneasy.

She thrust out her hand. “Thank you, Mr… Uh. Gosh, I don’t even know your name.”

He took her fingers in a firm clasp. “Daniel Longstreet. Dan to my friends.”

“Dan.” When he kept her hand in his, the room danced in her peripheral vision and warm tingles rippled up her arm.

“Dan. Oh, I’m Noel, Noel Martin,” she added after swallowing to moisten her throat. Slowly pulling her fingers free, she gestured toward the booth. “And those’re my children.” Noel rubbed at her eyes and swallowed a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Pleased to meet you, Noel.” His gaze moved over her face like a warm touch. Her breath hitched in her chest; this was the wrong time to be interested in any man.

Nicholas hiccupped in his sleep, and a grin softened that craggy landscape. Noel’s heart pounded at double speed. She forgot his rough exterior. His gentle expression felt like being wrapped in a wool fleece. She mentally counted to ten. She’d been cold too long to trust that warm promise.

“Well, I’d better get going. I need to find a place to stay. And it’s getting late.”

Dan glanced at the neon-lit clock. A rattling gust shook the front window and snow bounced off the glass like shotgun pellets.

“The weather’s too rough to be driving around looking for another place when there’s one right upstairs.” He gestured toward the ceiling. He cocked one thick eyebrow. “Room isn’t fancy, a couple of twin beds, a crib, and a small kitchenette. It has a color TV, though, that the little girl could watch. More a bachelor’s pad than anything.”

“But I can’t impose on you! First work, now a place to stay.”

“Consider it part of your job,” he said.

Her heart felt like it broke. She jerked upright and narrowed her eyes. Anger and disappointment pounded like a fist in her chest. “And what else will be considered part of my job, Mr. Longstreet? I don’t think you understand. I may be desperate, but I’m not a loose woman. I want a waitress job. Nothing else.”

Noel kept her shoulders stiff and square while she marched to the booth and stuffed the children’s belongings into the bag.

****

Dan’s heart raced after he realized she was planning to leave. He couldn’t let her walk out, not now. He grabbed her arm.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Loose woman? I haven’t heard that term since my grandmother died.”

“What I meant is perfectly clear.” Her indignant eyes flashed diamond shards that cut him to the quick, and her pulled-down mouth urged him to make her smile again.

She shoved his hand aside, her jaw out-thrust like a prizefighter preparing for the next round.

“I didn’t ask for anything else,” he added quietly, although his heart yelled that he had to convince her to stay.

She sagged when the fight drained out of her. The urge to take her in his embrace made his arms shake when she brushed trembling fingers over her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I misunderstood. Since we started this journey, nothing’s gone right. And I didn’t really believe—”

“Look, take those kids upstairs and put them to bed. Catch some sleep yourself. We’ll discuss this when you’re rested.”

Dan kept his hands at his sides even though he itched to brush the strand of tumbled hair from her rosy cheek.

Ready to defend her virtue? Another term he hadn’t heard in years. Noel made him think in old-fashioned terms, like virtue and goodness, family, home—he cut the thought off. He wanted a family someday. Despite his attraction to Noel, he didn’t have the time or energy to get involved now.

With her shoulders slumped and her head down, she looked as young as the little girl curled on the bench. Pain pinched under his breastbone. She needed shelter from life’s storms, and he could provide a respite. But only for a short time, he vowed. Noel would earn her keep. He didn’t collect strays any more.

Chapter Two

The murmur of cartoon characters and the baby’s low gurgle woke Noel from fragmented dreams of home and a man who resembled Dan. It took her a minute to orient herself. A slanted blind tilted the glittering light in bars across the freshly painted white ceiling and down the wall to where Nicholas waved his arms, trying to catch the sunlight. Holly huddled so close to the TV screen she should be cross-eyed.

The smell of fresh coffee drifted to her nose and her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten supper yesterday.

She slowly sat up and surveyed the large, comfortable room. Dan had pointed out the bathroom and quickly left, but his presence showed in every detail.

Last night she’d done no more than notice it was clean and the twin beds freshly made. He hadn’t explained the crib in the corner.

The walls were painted pale blue and the woodwork glossy white. Several landscapes hung on one wall and a closet door opened next to the blue-tiled bathroom. A thick beige rug covered the floor and white eyelet curtains draped across a large window facing the road in front of the building.

Noel stretched her arms overhead, suddenly conscious of her milk-filled breasts. She gasped and threw aside the covers. She stood and her toes curled in the soft rug. It was late, and her new employer’s comment about an early breakfast burned her ears.

“Holly,” she called. “I need to feed the baby and get dressed. Help me find clean clothes for both of you, please.”

Holly kept her eyes glued to the colorful screen. “Don’t hurry, Mommy.”

“
Holly!
”

She dragged her gaze to her mother’s.

“But Mommy, Dan said to let you sleep. He said you should come down when you were ready.” She pointed in the general direction of the tiny kitchenette and her voice trailed away when she turned back to the screen. “And he left you a pot of coffee.”

Noel’s legs folded and her bottom hit the edge of the bed. Dan had been in here while she slept. Her skin tingled at the thought.

Nicholas stopped waving his arms. He made tiny gurgling sounds that would rapidly escalate into hungry yells.

Her fingers trembled while she unbuttoned her flannel pajama top, picked him up, and sat against the headboard. The pillows propped up Nicholas’s growing weight. As he suckled, she studied the closed door. Dan. Her skin felt too tight and her stomach clenched when she recalled his trim body and warm smile.

“How did Mr. Longstreet get in, Holly?”

“He knocked and I opened the door. When I told him you were sleeping, he said he’d be right back and he brought up the coffee.” Holly shrugged.

Noel groaned when a picture of Dan’s broad shoulders filled her mind. She didn’t feel threatened by his strength, but Holly had to learn caution.

“Oh, Holly, how many times have I told you not to open the door to strangers?”

Holly stared at her mother.

“That’s what Dan said, too.” Her forehead wrinkled before she pursed her mouth. “Do all grown-ups say the same things?”

“Not all. And I think you should call him Mr. Longstreet.”

“I did. But he said I could call him Dan since you were already friends.”

Noel ducked her head to avoid Holly’s gaze as her stomach warmed. Friends? Her pulse raced and her skin tingled when he was close, not feelings she had for a friend. Dan sparked a strong attraction in her, but she had no intention of acting on it. She had to keep firmly to her goal: they were going home.

Home. She’d dreamed of returning for so long. If she was honest, going home had been her hope for years. The big old farmhouse had given a sad, lonely child more than shelter. It held the memories of loving arms cradling her, fresh-baked cookies, and safety. All the things she wanted for her babies.

Nicholas gave a contented hiccup, and she eased him over to burp. As soon as she dressed, she’d remind Dan she had to leave before Christmas.

****

“You look ready for work,” Dan called to where Noel hovered. How could he have mistaken her for an elf last night?

Clad in a shapeless blue sweater that did nothing to hide her slender body, worn jeans two sizes too big, and thick-soled shoes, she looked rested, but her feet shuffled. More like a wood nymph ready to bolt back to her sheltering tree.

His pulse gave what was becoming a familiar leap, something he suspected he’d feel for the rest of his life.

Her shiny hair was clipped back behind her ears. Her light blue eyes narrowed. She was in a snit.

“There’s no one here,” she remarked with a puzzled frown. “Don’t you ever have any business?”

A rosy blush flooded up her neck when he lifted his brows. She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

Dan focused on her face and off her heavy breasts. The gut-deep need to cup them in his palms trickled sweat down his spine. And his forehead. He wiped it away with his forearm. She was an employee, for heaven’s sake, and he had more control than that. He hoped, anyway.

“You missed the breakfast crowd, and lunch won’t pick up until after eleven. With the plows still clearing the roads, it’s slow. You’ve got time to set out the knives, forks and placemats.”

“Then I still have a job?” Her expression relaxed.

“Sure. Didn’t Holly tell you I said to sleep in?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So get to work. I run a tight ship here. I keep things neat, and I expect my employees to do the same.”

Noel nodded and grabbed a stack of colorful paper placemats and a tray of napkins and silver from the counter. With practiced ease, she quickly set the clean tables.

Dan’s gaze followed her as he told himself he was only checking to see if she did it properly. He admitted the truth when she bent forward and stretched across the table, her jeans caressing the curve of her hips like a lover’s hand. His palm sweated to trace the rounded curve as his groin tightened.

Noel was a desirable woman before she was a mother.

And only passing through
, he reminded himself. He planted the thought in the front of his mind.

“How do you work the dining area?” Noel asked after she slid the tray back onto the counter.