Santa's Sweetheart (The Christmas Tree Ranch #4)(36)

“I know you don’t feel like eating,” Sam said. “But you won’t survive on an empty stomach. Give it a try.”

Hank nibbled a slice of crisp bacon, then, with a sigh, he forked a bite of pancake and managed to get it down. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate this, Sam. But right now, I don’t much care whether I live or die.”

“I take it you haven’t made it to the AA meetings. They can do a world of good. I know people who’ve literally been saved by following the program.”

“Forget that. I don’t need hard-luck stories and platitudes.”

“Then what do you need, Hank? Your family’s gone. What else could make a difference for you? Think about it.”

Hank took his time, squirting ketchup on his hash browns and taking a couple of bites before he answered.

“I need a job, Sam—something better to do than sit around, drink, and feel sorry for myself. I know plenty about farming and how to fix most machines and take care of stock. I can’t do the physical work with my leg gone, but what’s in my head and hands has to be worth something.” He shrugged. “Never mind. Who’s going to hire a one-legged drunk, eh?”

“Nobody wants to hire even a two-legged drunk. Sober up, and you might have a decent chance.” Sam finished his coffee. As he set the mug on the table, an idea struck him.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s make a deal. If you’ll start going to AA meetings and making an honest effort to sober up, I’ll help you find a job.”

“You’ll help me?” Hank raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. What if I do all the work and sit through those damned meetings, and you can’t even find me an interview?”

“All right, how’s this?” Sam signaled the waitress for the check. “Sober up for real, and if we haven’t found you a job, I’ll hire you myself.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know, but it’s the best offer you’re going to get. So, what do you say?”

Hank sighed, then nodded. “All right. What’ve I got to lose? I’ll give it a try.”

“Fine. But if you don’t do your part, the deal is off.” Sam fished his credit card out of his wallet. “Finish your breakfast. Then we’ll go and see about getting your power back on—and check the schedule for the next AA meeting.”

*

The follow-up meeting for the Christmas ball committee was set for that night. Maggie had begged to be included again. “Please, Daddy. Remember how much help I was last time? The Christmas ball was my idea.”

“I know, honey,” Sam had said. “But the meeting’s for grown-ups. You can go next door and stay with the McDermotts. They’ll be putting up their Christmas tree tonight. Mrs. McDermott told me they could really use your help.”

“Really?” Maggie’s green eyes had sparkled. Like her mother, she was a Christmas girl through and through. She’d skipped and danced all the way to the house next door, leaving Sam to drive to his meeting alone.

Sam felt lucky to have good neighbors who liked Maggie and were willing to take her on short notice. The money he insisted on paying the retired couple was a bargain. But he knew that Maggie needed more of him than he had time to give her. He felt the guilt every time they had to cancel fun plans because of his work, and every time he was called away on some emergency in the night. Serving his community was important. But so was being a father to his motherless little girl.

He drove into the parking lot at the city and county building and parked next to Grace’s red Cadillac. If he didn’t get a chance to talk to her in the meeting, he could at least catch her at her car.

The night was cold and diamond clear, the sky a spectacle of stars, like glitter spilled across dark velvet. As he crossed the parking lot to the building entrance, Sam remembered kissing Grace, the feel of her responsive mouth like warm satin against his. He’d yearned to wrap her in his arms and mold her slender curves to his body. But that would have been going too far. At least he’d had the wisdom to hold back. But he knew that when he saw Grace in the meeting, whether he wanted to or not, he’d be remembering that kiss. And something told him so would she.

He’d hoped to arrive early, but at the last minute, before leaving home, he’d misplaced his keys. The search, which ended when he found them in his jacket, had delayed him by about ten minutes. He walked into the meeting just as it was starting.

The mayor frowned as Sam entered and took the only empty seat which, as luck would have it, was across the table from Grace. She gave him a faint smile and looked away.

“Well, Sam, we’re grateful you decided to join us,” the mayor said. “We were about to start without you. I take it you didn’t bring your lovely daughter tonight.”

Sam replied with a shake of his head and poured himself some coffee from the carafe on the table. If Rulon Wilkins was waiting for an apology, he was out of luck.

“Alice, do you have the minutes from the last meeting?” the mayor asked.

“I do.” The mayor’s wife stood and read the notes in her high-pitched voice. “Mr. Chairman,” she concluded, addressing her husband, “I move that the minutes be added to the city record.”

Someone mumbled a second, and the motion was voted in. Sam helped himself to a doughnut from the box on the table. It was going to be a long evening.