She wished each one of them a Merry Christmas and placed a large candy cane in each child’s adorable little hand before the tiny boys and girls rushed off to meet their parents.
As soon as the last child had been settled in her mother’s car, she packed up her belongings. Holly-jolly carols played softly in her head while images of the perfect Christmas day grew and took shape. The Catskills this year.
She’d never been there.
She’d never been anywhere.
If only...
Holly trudged home, bracing herself against the stiff cold wind that barreled down the narrow Chicago alleyway, and wondered what she’d do with herself over the next two weeks.
Most teachers relished the holiday break. Most of her friends were excited to have some time off to spend with their family.
Holly hated feeling left out. That’s why, two years ago, she’d invented a family. A wonderful family that grew larger and happier with the passing of every year.
Burl Ives was a new addition. It was silly, she knew. Crazy even. Who in her right mind would invent a family?
But Holly didn’t want anyone to know the truth. No matter what, she couldn’t admit that she spent every Christmas alone in her tiny apartment, because she had no one. She’d never had anyone to spend Christmas with.
Her friends, rich with family connections and love, would pity the lonely, strange girl who was found as a baby in a Chicago gutter and raised by a local orphanage.
No one had wanted Holly.
No one had loved her.
The gray sky loomed heavy above her. She hoped for snow. The winter browns and rusts had been darkening her mood. Some sparkling snow would help and brighten the gloomy short days.
Night fell so early this time of year. The streetlamps were already flickering on one by one as the clouds blotted out the last sign of the day. An unusually strong gust of wind caught her coat. Holly stumbled as that blasted wind tried to push her back toward the school.
“Easy there.” Arms wrapped around her.
Holly glanced up in surprise to find her rescuer, a handsome man with a strong, square jaw, studying her. His brows furrowed.
He was taller than her by at least a foot. His hair was as dark as his midnight eyes. He pulled her up against his side to give her a chance to get her feet back under her. As a result, her face burrowed in the depths of his long wool coat as his spicy warmth seeped through her.
“I-I’m okay.” She tried to push him away, though a part of her was only too happy to stay right where she was. In his arms.
However, this wasn’t the safest neighborhood. Just two weeks ago, a woman who lived in Molly’s apartment building had been attacked as she made her way to the laundry mat. The last Holly had heard, the woman was still in the hospital and the hooded thug who’d put her there was still out on the streets.
The man refused to loosen the grip he had around her waist. The wind blew harder.
“A nasty storm’s brewing,” he said when her questioning gaze met his again. He wasn’t wearing a hood. Nor did he look like a thug who wanted to attack her. But that didn’t mean she was out of danger.
She could feel the iron cords of strength in the arms holding her fast to his side. If he turned out to be the kind of guy who enjoyed hurting a woman, there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him.
Wouldn’t that just add insult to injury?
No family.
No Christmas plans.
And now this? Attacked in a deserted alleyway and left for dead? The way her luck had been running she’d end up half-buried by snow before anyone found and rescued her.
He must have read the building panic in her eyes.
“The sidewalk’s icy through here,” he said, his voice so damnably calm and reasonable. “If I let go of your arms right now, you’ll slip. Hold on.”
True to his word, he released her as soon as her feet hit solid concrete.
“Let me buy you a coffee.” He gestured over at a corner coffee shop. “I don’t know about you, but I’m
As soon as the last child had been settled in her mother’s car, she packed up her belongings. Holly-jolly carols played softly in her head while images of the perfect Christmas day grew and took shape. The Catskills this year.
She’d never been there.
She’d never been anywhere.
If only...
Holly trudged home, bracing herself against the stiff cold wind that barreled down the narrow Chicago alleyway, and wondered what she’d do with herself over the next two weeks.
Most teachers relished the holiday break. Most of her friends were excited to have some time off to spend with their family.
Holly hated feeling left out. That’s why, two years ago, she’d invented a family. A wonderful family that grew larger and happier with the passing of every year.
Burl Ives was a new addition. It was silly, she knew. Crazy even. Who in her right mind would invent a family?
But Holly didn’t want anyone to know the truth. No matter what, she couldn’t admit that she spent every Christmas alone in her tiny apartment, because she had no one. She’d never had anyone to spend Christmas with.
Her friends, rich with family connections and love, would pity the lonely, strange girl who was found as a baby in a Chicago gutter and raised by a local orphanage.
No one had wanted Holly.
No one had loved her.
The gray sky loomed heavy above her. She hoped for snow. The winter browns and rusts had been darkening her mood. Some sparkling snow would help and brighten the gloomy short days.
Night fell so early this time of year. The streetlamps were already flickering on one by one as the clouds blotted out the last sign of the day. An unusually strong gust of wind caught her coat. Holly stumbled as that blasted wind tried to push her back toward the school.
“Easy there.” Arms wrapped around her.
Holly glanced up in surprise to find her rescuer, a handsome man with a strong, square jaw, studying her. His brows furrowed.
He was taller than her by at least a foot. His hair was as dark as his midnight eyes. He pulled her up against his side to give her a chance to get her feet back under her. As a result, her face burrowed in the depths of his long wool coat as his spicy warmth seeped through her.
“I-I’m okay.” She tried to push him away, though a part of her was only too happy to stay right where she was. In his arms.
However, this wasn’t the safest neighborhood. Just two weeks ago, a woman who lived in Molly’s apartment building had been attacked as she made her way to the laundry mat. The last Holly had heard, the woman was still in the hospital and the hooded thug who’d put her there was still out on the streets.
The man refused to loosen the grip he had around her waist. The wind blew harder.
“A nasty storm’s brewing,” he said when her questioning gaze met his again. He wasn’t wearing a hood. Nor did he look like a thug who wanted to attack her. But that didn’t mean she was out of danger.
She could feel the iron cords of strength in the arms holding her fast to his side. If he turned out to be the kind of guy who enjoyed hurting a woman, there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop him.
Wouldn’t that just add insult to injury?
No family.
No Christmas plans.
And now this? Attacked in a deserted alleyway and left for dead? The way her luck had been running she’d end up half-buried by snow before anyone found and rescued her.
He must have read the building panic in her eyes.
“The sidewalk’s icy through here,” he said, his voice so damnably calm and reasonable. “If I let go of your arms right now, you’ll slip. Hold on.”
True to his word, he released her as soon as her feet hit solid concrete.
“Let me buy you a coffee.” He gestured over at a corner coffee shop. “I don’t know about you, but I’m
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