His Holiday Family

Brought together by courage...

When Hurricane Naomi tears through a small Mississippi town, a daring rescue unites two heroes. Nurse Kathleen Hart is a single mom racked with guilt over her husband’s death. Firefighter Gideon O’Brien—orphaned as a young boy—has lost too many people he cared for.

To rise above the storm’s devastation, Gideon helps Kathleen and her sons rebuild their home. As Christmas approaches, they discover that even the strongest of storms can’t destroy a romance built on the foundation of faith.

When the hairs on his nape stood up, he knew that Kathleen had come into the kitchen.

Gideon felt her gaze and straightened his shoulders, resisting the urge to peer back at her. He dated women all the time, but none of them had caught his attention the way she had.

Deep down he sensed a connection, as if she knew what it was to be hurt deeply and had held herself back from others because of that. Like him. Was that why he got the bright idea to bring dinner to her tonight?

No, it was her sons. They reminded Gideon of himself and his younger brother growing up.

He pivoted toward her, transfixed by the soft blue of her eyes. Run. The word set off an alarm bell in his mind. His chest constricted.

In the distance he heard her son Kip speaking to him, but Gideon couldn’t tear his eyes from Kathleen, her delicate features forming a beautiful picture that could haunt him if he allowed her to get too close. But he wouldn’t do that.

MARGARET DALEY

feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun. Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for more than twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.

Margaret Daley

His Holiday Family

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope.

—Psalms 16:9

To Joe, thank you for your support

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions For Discussion

Chapter One

Gideon O’Brien hopped down from Engine Two and assessed the chaos in front of him. Strapping on his air pack, he started toward his captain. A hand gripped his arm and stopped his forward progress. He turned toward the blonde woman who held him, her large blue eyes glistening with tears. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place where he knew her from. His neighbor’s daughter, perhaps?

“My two sons and my cousin—their babysitter—must still be inside. I don’t see them outside with the other tenants.” Her voice quivered. She tightened her hand on his arm and scanned the crowd. “I’m Kathleen Hart. My sons are Jared and Kip. I tried Sally’s cell but she didn’t answer. Please get them out.” A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Where are they?” Gideon moved toward his captain, his palm at the small of her back, guiding her in the direction he wanted her to go. Yes, he realized, she was his neighbor Ruth Coleman’s daughter.

“Sally’s second-floor apartment is on the east side, the fourth one down on your right. Number 212. Hurry.” Her round eyes fastened on the fire consuming the three-story apartment building on Magnolia Street.

Gideon paused in front of Captain Fox. “Mrs. Hart says her sons and babysitter are still inside. Pete and I can go in and get them.” He looked toward the west end of the large structure where the men of Engine One were fighting the flames eating their way through the top level. “There’s still time.”

“Okay.” His captain surveyed the east end. “But hurry. It won’t be long before this whole building goes up.”

The scent of smoke hung heavy in the air. The hissing sound of water hitting Magnolia Street Apartments vied with the roar of the blaze. Gideon turned toward the mother of the two boys. “We’ll find them.” He gave her a smile then searched the firefighters for Pete.

When Gideon found him a few feet away, he covered the distance quickly. “Let’s go. There are three people trapped on the second floor. East end.”

At the main entrance into the building Gideon fixed his mask in place, glancing back at the blonde woman standing near his captain. He had seen that same look of fear and worry many times over his career as a firefighter. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her sons and Sally.

Gideon switched on his voice amplifier and headed into the furnace with Pete following close behind him. Through the thick cloud suspended from the ceiling in the foyer, the stairs to the second floor loomed. Crouching, he scrambled up the steps. The higher he went, the hotter it became.

On the landing, he peered to the right, a wall of steely smoke obscuring his view. To the left, the way he needed to go, the gunmetal gray fog hovered in the hallway, denser at the top.

Gideon dropped to his hands and knees and crawled toward Sally’s apartment. Sweat coated his body from the adrenaline pumping through him and the soaring temperature. The building groaned. Visibility only three feet in front of him, he hugged the wall, his heart pounding. He sucked air into his lungs, conscious of the limited amount of oxygen in his tank.

Calm down. Not much time. In and out.

Mindful of every inhalation, he counted the doors they passed in the corridor. One. Two. Three. The next apartment was Sally’s. His breathing evened out as he neared his goal.

At number 212’s door, Gideon tried the handle. Locked. He rose and swung his ax into the wooden obstruction, the sound of it striking its target reverberating in the smoke-filled air.

When a big enough hole appeared, Pete reached inside and opened the door. A pearly haze, not as heavy as in the corridor, engulfed the room. His partner rushed into the apartment, Gideon right behind him. In the small foyer, he noticed a large television on in the living room but didn’t see anyone in there.

“I’ll take the left. You the right,” Gideon said, making his way down the short hallway to the first bedroom. “Fire department, is anyone here?” His gaze riveted to a double bed. He quickly searched everywhere two young boys might hide. Nothing.

For a few seconds a memory intruded into his mind, taking his focus off what needed to be done. He shoved it away, went back in the hall and crossed to the other bedroom. After checking it, he came back out into the corridor and opened the last door to a bathroom. Empty.

He pictured his neighbor’s daughter next to his captain, waiting for them to bring her sons out safely. The thought that he might not be able to quickened his breathing for a moment.

When he met up with Pete in the small entryway, his partner said, “All clear in the kitchen as well as the living and dining rooms.”

“The same in the bedrooms.”

“Gideon, Pete, get out. Mrs. Hart sees her children and their babysitter. They just arrived and are safe,” his captain’s deep gravelly voice came over the radio.

“We’re on our way.” Relieved the two boys and Sally were all right, Gideon and Pete made their way back into the main hallway.

The smoke had grown thicker, darker. The crackling and popping sounds of the fire overrode the rumbling noise from the water continually bombarding the structure. A warning went off, signaling Pete only had five minutes of air left in his tank.

Our time is running out.

As those words flashed into Gideon’s thoughts, his breathing sped up for a few seconds before he reined it in. He’d been in similar situations. They would make it.

Gideon gestured to his friend to go first. Every second counted. Pete came out of the apartment and got down on all fours, hurriedly heading for the stairs. Gideon crept along a body length behind his partner. As he crawled past the second apartment, his low-pressure air alarm alerted him to the need to move even faster.

But the nearer he came to the stairs, the soupier his surroundings were. He barely made out the back of Pete only a foot in front of him.

Gideon’s shoulder brushed against the door frame of the apartment nearest to the steps. Almost there. His inhalations slowed even more to conserve as much oxygen as possible. But heat warmed the inside of his protective suit, and sweat rolled down his face. Its salty drops stung his eyes. He blinked, his vision blurring for a few seconds.

Then suddenly from above, wood and debris came tumbling down. Gideon lost sight of Pete in the dense smoke and dust. The crashing sound of a beam boomed through the air.

Lord, help.

Rolling onto his back, Gideon reached for his radio when another metallic moan cut through the noise of the fire. A piece of timber landed across his chest, knocking his radio from his hand. A sharp pain lanced a path through his upper torso. Then a second slab of lumber fell on top of the first. Gideon stared up as the rest of the ceiling plummeted. Air rushed out of his lungs, and blackness swirled before his eyes.

Holding her two sons’ hands, Kathleen Hart watched them carry a firefighter out of the burning building. Fear bombarded her from all sides. He could die because she’d mistakenly thought her children and Sally were inside. She relived the few seconds when she’d seen Jared and Kip racing toward her with Sally Nance right behind them. The elation they weren’t trapped took hold. Then the knowledge she had unnecessarily sent two men into a blaze to find the trio swept away the joy. Now one of them was injured. Because of her.

She turned to Sally. “Please keep the boys with you. I need to see how the firefighter is doing.”

“Sure. I’m so sorry you didn’t realize I took Jared and Kip to the park. When the weather’s good, we’ve been doing that. With the storm coming, I didn’t know when we would get another chance anytime soon. I never in a thousand years thought my apartment building would catch fire and…” Her cousin gulped back the rest of her words and stared at the man on the stretcher being attended to by the paramedics.

“I know, Sally.” Kathleen looked down at her sons, whose eyes were round and huge in their pale faces. “We’ll talk later.” She squeezed their hands gently, drawing their attention. “Stay with Sally. I’m going to check on the firefighter.”

Tears shone in Kip’s eyes. “Tell him we’re sorry.”

She stooped and grasped her nine-year-old’s upper arms. “Honey, it isn’t your fault.”

And it isn’t my fault, either. It was an unfortunate accident. If only she could believe that.

Even knowing that in her mind didn’t make her feel any better as she rose and headed toward the ambulance into which the paramedics were loading the firefighter.

One of the paramedics hopped into the back of the emergency vehicle while the other shut the doors and started toward the front of the truck. She knew the paramedic because she worked as a nurse at Hope Memorial Hospital. Kathleen hurried her steps and caught up with the driver before he climbed into the cab.

“How is he, Samuel?”

“O’Brien may have some internal injuries.” Samuel gave her a once-over. “Did you just come from the hospital?”

Still dressed in her scrubs, Kathleen nodded. “Will he make it?”

“He should, barring any complications.” The paramedic jumped up into the ambulance.

Kathleen backed away from the vehicle and watched it leave the scene. She squeezed her eyes closed, still seeing the flashing lights in her mind. She couldn’t shake the tragedy of the situation—one she’d had a part in. Just like another one, not long ago.

She tried to clear her mind of the memory. When would this go away?

Someone tugged on her arm. She looked down at Jared, her seven-year-old son, with worry in his expression. “Sally said he went in searching for us. Is that true?”

“Yes. When I didn’t see you outside with the other tenants, I thought you all were still inside.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Kip asked as he approached her. Sally followed right behind her son.

“The paramedic thinks so.” She hoped Samuel was right.

“Mom, he’s got to be.” Kip’s lower lip quivered. “I begged Sally to take us to the park.”

“Honey, you didn’t know what might happen.” She needed to listen to her own words, but that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. “Let’s get you two to Nana’s, and then I’ll go back to the hospital and check on him after the doctor has had time to see him in the E.R.” Kathleen shifted toward her twenty-three-year-old cousin. “I’m so sorry about this, Sally. Do you want to go to Mom’s?” She threw a glance toward the blaze. “It doesn’t look like much will be left. You’ll need a place to stay. You’re welcome to stay with me and the boys.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I can go to my mom’s. I need to stay and talk with some of my neighbors. See what happened. Then I’ll give Mom a call and have her come pick me up. She should be home. With Hurricane Naomi bearing down on us, I would have stayed at Mom’s anyway.” Sally looked south toward the water only a few blocks from the apartment building.

Kathleen couldn’t think of that. The storm in the Gulf was still several days away from Hope, Mississippi, a quaint town of twenty thousand between Mobile and New Orleans. Her hometown of stately antebellum homes along the water thrived on tourism and the fishing industry. But anything could happen between now and the date the National Weather Service projected Naomi would come ashore in the vicinity of Hope.

“I called your cell earlier when I arrived. All I could do was leave a message.”

Sally dug into her jean pocket and withdrew her phone. She winced. “Sorry. I had the sound off.” Her cousin peered off to Kathleen’s side. “Will Kip and Jared be okay?”

Kathleen followed the direction of Sally’s attention. Both of her sons’ gazes were glued to the commotion taking place at the Magnolia Street Apartments. Kip chewed his lower lip while her younger son took several feet forward. “I’d better get them away before Jared is in the middle of the chaos. I’ll talk to you later. If you need any help, please call.” She hugged her cousin, then made her way to her children, who were entranced by the plume of smoke bellowing into the sky being chased by yellow-orange flames.

Her mother would watch them while she went to check on the firefighter. She owed him that much for what he did for her. Kathleen clasped first Jared’s hand, then Kip’s. “We need to go to Nana’s.”

“But, Mom, I want to see what happens.” He had told her on a number of occasions he wanted to be a firefighter.

“No. They don’t need any more people here watching.” Kathleen scanned the crowd that had gathered across the street from the apartments. “Besides, if Nana hears about this, she’ll get worried.”

“Will she even be back from Biloxi yet?” Kip trudged toward her car parked several buildings away.

“I hope so.” Because she needed to go to the hospital. The firefighter had to be all right.

Will he make it?

The question plagued Kathleen the whole way into the E.R. thirty minutes later after she’d left her mother’s house. Luckily her mother had returned from her weekly visit to her friend in a nursing home in Biloxi. Activity and tension met Kathleen as she came through the double doors. Ashley, an E.R. nurse who had befriended her when she’d begun working at Hope Memorial six weeks ago, hurried from behind the counter, saw her and came toward her.

“Thank the Lord you are here. We need a hand. One of the nurses got sick and had to go home. Can you help me with a patient? I have two that need attention.” Ashley held up several vials of medicines and an IV bag.

“Is one of them the firefighter from the fire on Magnolia Street?” She rushed behind the counter and disposed of her purse in a drawer.

“Yes, he’s in room two.”

“I’ll take him. I just came from the fire. My cousin lives in those apartments. I wanted to check to see how he is.”

“I think he’ll be all right. I haven’t had much time with him yet. Besides him, there was a wreck on Interstate 10. Three injuries. It’s been hopping around here. I don’t want to even think about how it will be if Naomi hits here.”

Neither did Kathleen. As a child, she had gone through two minor hurricanes that had gotten her out of school for a couple of days but, other than that, hadn’t changed her life much at all. But Naomi was gathering speed and her winds were increasing.

Ashley thrust an IV bag into her hands. “He needs this.”

Her breath caught in her throat, Kathleen took it and started for the second door on the left. “What are his injuries?”

Ashley slanted a look at Kathleen and said, “I think several broken or cracked ribs, possible internal bleeding and smoke inhalation,” then entered E.R. unit number four.

When Kathleen went into room two, she stared at the firefighter lying on the bed. His damp black hair was plastered against his head, and there were dark smudges on his tan face. His steely gray eyes locked on her and seized her full attention.

“Pete. What about Pete? Did my partner get out okay?” His raspy voice weakened with each word he uttered.

“Yes, there were no other injuries at the fire.” Guilt swamped her at seeing the man she’d sent into the fire hurting, pain reflected in his gaze. The feeling was familiar. Hadn’t her husband, Derek, blamed her for causing his stress that led to his heart attack? Shaking away the memory, Kathleen hung an IV drip on the pole and hooked up his line.

“I’ll be fine.” The firefighter struggled to sit up. His eyes clouded, his face twisting into a frown.

Kathleen rushed forward to restrain the patient’s movements. “You need to lie down.”

“You’re the lady with the boys. Ruth’s daughter.” He swung one leg to the floor.

“Yes.” Kathleen touched his left arm to stop him.

He flinched but proceeded with putting his other leg on the tiles, pushing himself upright. With a moan, he sank to the floor. Kathleen caught him as he went down and lessened his impact with the tiles. Kneeling next to him, she supported his back with her arm.

His head rested against the bottom of the bed. He fixed his weary gaze on her, pain dominating it. “I guess I’m not all right.”

“Let’s get you back in bed. The doctor will be here soon.”

“Yeah, sure.” His eyes fluttered and closed.

With her attention fastened on his face, Kathleen settled him on the floor and pressed the emergency call button.

“I thought you left here a couple of hours ago,” Mildred Wyman, the floor supervisor, said as Kathleen exited the elevator and walked toward the nurses’ station.

“I did, but there was a fire at the Magnolia Street Apartments where my cousin lives.” She filled her in on the details. “When I came back to the hospital, Ashley recruited me to help until another nurse was able to come in. She just arrived so I wanted to see if Gideon O’Brien was settled into his room before I go home for sure this time.”

“He’s in room 345. He was asleep a little while ago.”

“I’ll peek in. See if he’s up. If he needs anything.”

Kathleen strolled toward the last room on the west wing’s third floor. The memory of the look on Gideon O’Brien’s face wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Clearly he’d been in pain but he tried to deny the seriousness of his injuries. If only she had known that Sally had taken the boys to the park, Gideon O’Brien wouldn’t be hurt.

She rapped on the door. When she didn’t hear anything, she inched it open to see if he was still asleep. The dimly lit room beckoned her. She stepped inside and found him, lying on his bed, his head lolled to the side, his eyes closed.

With the black smudges cleaned from his face, his features fit together into a pleasing picture. High cheekbones, the beginnings of a dark stubble, strong jaw. His features drew her forward until she stood by his side, watching him sleep. She could remember seeing him a couple of times jogging past her mother’s house when she had visited. When she’d told her mother who the injured firefighter was, her mom had said Gideon O’Brien had moved in down the street several years before.

“He sure is a handsome lad. Single, too.” Her mother’s words came back to taunt Kathleen. Before she’d had time to say goodbye to her sons so she could return to the hospital, her mother had ushered her out the door without further questions—which was unusual for her mom. Kathleen knew what was going through her mother’s mind. A nice young man would solve all of Kathleen’s problems. She would discourage her mother of that thought when she went back to pick up her sons.

Her glance ran down Gideon’s length, categorizing his injuries. Two cracked ribs, wrapped but very painful, a broken arm above his left wrist, which would be set tomorrow, and an assortment of bruises. The doctor was still concerned about internal bleeding and wanted to keep a close eye on him overnight.

When her survey returned to his face, it connected with his gaze. Molten silver, framed by long, thick black eyelashes. Captivating. Powerful. Those thoughts sent warmth to her cheeks that she was sure rivaled the fire he’d fought.

Kathleen looked away. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t,” Gideon said in a scratchy voice. “You were at the fire. In the E.R. Ruth’s daughter.”

She nodded. “I’m so sorry you and Pete went into the building after my children.” She reconnected with him visually. “They were supposed to be there. I had come to pick them up. I didn’t know Sally had taken them to the park and was running late getting them back to her apartment.”

He shifted, gritting his teeth. “I’m glad they’re safe.”

“But—”

“So why are you up here?”

She wanted to say so much more to him, but a closed expression descended over his pain-filled features. “I wanted to make sure you were all right before I left.”

“Define all right.” One corner of his mouth lifted for a second then fell back into a neutral line. He tried to reach for the plastic cup of water on his nightstand and winced.

“Let me get it for you.” Kathleen picked up the cup and held it to his lips so he could take a few sips. The scent of smoke clung to his dark hair. “Is your pain manageable?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You have?” She’d heard from other patients in the past how much broken or cracked ribs could hurt.

“Afraid so.” Creases in his forehead deepened. Gideon gulped in a breath of air and started coughing. Agony contorted his features, his eyes shiny. “That hurt.”

“Let me see if you can have more pain meds.” Anything to help make him feel better. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel so guilty.