In this special holiday novella, Stacy Henrie returns to the World War I setting of her Of Love and War series for a heartwarming read that's perfect for the Christmas season. TIS THE SEASON FOR SECOND CHANCES Having experienced the heartache of unrequited love, Maria Schmitt desperately seeks a new life. Landing a position as a clerk in a Sioux City bank is just what she needs to get started on her journey toward healing. But a dashing stranger soon puts her job-and her heart-in jeopardy. Saving lives was all Dale Emerson ever wanted to do . . . until a fateful day in France shattered his career as a surgeon. He lost everything that mattered, and the last thing he wants to do is resign himself to a life without medicine working at his uncle's bank. Then he meets Maria, a compassionate woman who can see past his scars to the man he once was-and the man he could be again. With Christmas right around the corner, these two wounded hearts may find that hope and a little holiday cheer are just the ticket to letting go of regrets-and embracing a future full of love and possibility.
Release date:
December 2, 2014
Publisher:
Forever Yours
Print pages:
133
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Maria Schmitt balanced on the ladder’s third rung and stretched to pin the last paper cornucopia to the ceiling. Mr. Ross might grumble about her holiday decorations, but the bank patrons loved them. And since more patrons meant more business, he didn’t protest too much.
“Come on, Maria,” Lawrence Poulson grumbled from below, where he steadied the ladder for her. He’d sworn it was his twin brother’s turn to help her this time and hadn’t bothered to hide his irritation when James had proven otherwise. “Are you almost done?”
“It just needs…one…more…”
The push pin snagged a corner of the cornucopia, causing the poor thing to hang crooked. It was likely to fall down at the slightest puff of wind from the bank door opening and closing. Determined the Thanksgiving display must look perfect, Maria removed the pin. Did she dare climb higher?
“Hold it steady, Lawrence. I’ve almost got it.” She ascended another rung.
With one hand splayed against the ceiling, she reached out with the other. Good thing they hadn’t opened for the day. She didn’t need any of the patrons, or Mr. Ross, finding her in such an undignified position. But she wanted things to look just right.
Before she could secure the pin, Mr. Ross called out from behind the teller windows, “Lawrence? Maria? It’s time to unlock the door.”
Maria glanced down at Lawrence. “Go ahead. I only have one more.”
He released the ladder with a relieved huff and moved to unlock the door. A sudden blast of cold air reached all the way to Maria’s high-heeled shoes and stocking-clad calves. Oh bother. Someone had been waiting for them to open. She needed to finish—now.
“Morning,” a deep voice said from below. “I’m here to…”
Maria tuned out the conversation between the patron and Lawrence and extended her arm its full length to sink the pin into place. There, I’ve got it… She let go of the pin, but the movement, however small, threw her off balance. She scrambled to steady herself, but her fingers slipped from the ceiling.
She was going to fall. Her heart jumped into her throat, pounding as hard as a jackhammer, as her body tipped dangerously to the side.
With a strangled cry, Maria tumbled off the ladder, sending the object clattering to the floor. She shut her eyes, steeling herself against the inevitable—and painful—crash that awaited. But instead of striking the polished floor, her body came to rest against a solid, warm chest.
Maria slowly opened her eyes to find herself staring at an ugly yellow tie and the lapel of a wool coat. Her ears buzzed with sound as she tried to ascertain what had happened.
“Maria, are you okay?” Lawrence appeared at her elbow, his expression full of chagrin. He clearly felt bad for leaving the ladder unattended.
James rushed up to them. “What happened?”
Maria tried to speak, but her thoughts felt as chaotic as her pounding heartbeat. What if she’d hit the floor? She could have easily broken an arm, or worse. A horrified shutter ran through her, and she instinctively gripped the sleeve of her benefactor.
“She was hanging decorations and fell off the ladder,” Lawrence volunteered.
The man shifted her within his arms. “Are you all right?” his deep, calm voice intoned near her ear. “Do you think you can stand?”
Could she? Her limbs felt as limp as a ragdoll’s. She lifted her head, hoping to orient her thoughts, but the face peering down at her had the opposite effect. A dizzying tingle raced through her and settled into her stomach as she studied his dark hair, nice chin, and strong jawline. He smelled pleasantly of mints, too. But it was his eyes that held her captive. While the left one was covered by an eye patch, the other conjured up the memory of the pond back at home in the late evening—its deepness hidden beneath long shadows.
He frowned slightly at her unabashed perusal of his face and cleared his throat. “I’m going to set you down now, okay?”
Words at last pushed themselves out of her dry throat. “Oh, right. Of course.” Her face flushed anew.
The stranger lowered her to her feet, keeping a hand on her elbow until she found her balance. Lawrence had righted the ladder and propped it against the wall.
“You sure you’re all right, Maria?” James asked.
“Yes. I’m…fine. ” She smoothed her white batiste blouse and the top of her long, blue skirt with a nearly steady hand. “Thanks to this gentleman…” Her blush deepened as she wondered how long she’d remained in his grip, oblivious to all else but his arresting gaze and comforting arms.
“And look.” She pointed to the ceiling. “I hung all the cornucopias.” Her light laugh met awkward silence. Thankfully the bank door opened again and several more patrons bustled inside. Lawrence and James snapped to attention and hurried through the swinging, waist-high gate that separated the customers from the inner workings of the bank.
Maria inhaled a steadying breath, grateful her heart rate had mostly returned to normal. Turning to her rescuer, she held out her hand. “Thank you for your help and for your timely entrance.”
He shook her hand, his expression guarded. “You’re welcome. Though you might want to move the ladder instead of trying to overreach it next time. Or at the very least, get someone to hold it for you. That sort of fall can be nasty.”
A flicker of annoyance flared inside her as she went to collect the ladder. “I did have help…” she muttered beneath her breath. “Until he went to let you in.” She gripped the ladder and twisted it carefully onto its side.
“Would you like me to carry that for you?” His tone had tempered to sound almost friendly. Perhaps this was his olive branch after offering his unsolicited, and rather pointless, advice.
“No,” she answered abruptly. She was perfectly capable of handling a ladder, whether using one or carrying one. “It’s not too heavy, really,” she amended. The man had saved her from serious injury, after all. “I’m Maria Schmitt, by the way.” She flashed a genuine smile as she hoisted the ladder. “Can I help you with something, after I stow this, Mr.…”
“Emerson. Dale Emerson.” He reached out as if to shake her hand again, but realizing she still held the ladder, he dropped his hand to his side. “Are you Mr. Ross’s secretary?” Without waiting for her reply, he added, “Will you tell him Dale is here to see him?”
The insinuation about her position at the bank stoked her earlier irritation from a spark to a full-blown flame. In her mind’s eye, Maria imagined his olive branch disintegrating into a pile of charred wood.
“I am not Mr. Ross’s secretary, Mr. Emerson. I’m one of his bank clerks.”
Surprise rippled across Dale’s face. “A female bank clerk?” He shook his head in disbelief as he took a seat in one of the chairs near the lobby’s large window. “Things sure have changed around here since the war.”
He might not have meant to say the words aloud, but he had and Maria heard them perfectly. She straightened to her full height, grateful for the added inches from her shoes and that she could now look down on him instead of tipping her chin upward to see his face.
“I couldn’t agree more. What a relief it’s been to have so many boorish men absent this last year.” Guilt whooshed in the moment the words fled her mouth. She didn’t really mean that. But he’d been rude and insulting and…Oh why did she have to go and lose her composure—for the second time—in front of this man? Had anyone else overheard her unprofessional remark?
Cheeks aflame, she marched through the swinging gate. The ladder cracked against the nearby wall, but Maria didn’t stop. She barreled ahead until she reached the storage room at the back of the bank. Inside, she jerked down on the lightbulb’s string to illuminate the tight space.
“What an arrogant…odious…man!” she grumbled as she wrestled the ladder into place.
She’d proven she was qualified for this job, time and time again over the last five months. Mr. Ross often heralded her ability to help more customers in a day than Lawrence and James combined. She’d earned her rightful place here, so why should she care what one good-looking stranger had to say about it?
She wouldn’t; she didn’t.
Releasing a slow, cleansing breath, she pulled on the light cord again and left the ladder and the man’s ill opinion behind.
“James?” she called out as she entered the room partitioned off the lobby for . . .
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