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A Christmas Miracle
Anna Adams
There's no place like Bliss for the holidays…What else does Jason Macland have to do this Thanksgiving except save the town of Bliss from the idiot banker his dad hired? Step one: fire the idiot banker. Step two: help Fleming Harris save her Christmas shop or—better yet—foreclose on the place, because it would take a miracle to save a store that can't break even selling holiday trinkets during the holiday season. And all Jason wants to do is cut his dad's losses, salvage what local businesses he can and get out of the hometown he doesn't even remember before all the ghosts of his past—and one particularly memorable Christmas-shop manager—threaten to melt his Scrooge heart.
There’s no place like Bliss for the holidays...
What else does Jason Macland have to do this Thanksgiving except save the town of Bliss from the idiot banker his dad hired? Step one: fire the idiot banker. Step two: help Fleming Harris save her Christmas shop or—better yet—foreclose on the place, because it would take a miracle to save a store that can’t break even selling holiday trinkets during the holiday season. And all Jason wants to do is cut his dad’s losses, salvage what local businesses he can and get out of the hometown he doesn’t even remember before all the ghosts of his past—and one particularly memorable Christmas-shop manager—threaten to melt his Scrooge heart.
“I’m not going to attack you because I wasn’t smart enough with my business.”
Having said that, Fleming couldn’t help weighing Jason up as the villain of her bad holiday season.
As they walked into the hotel, Lyle Benjamin appeared at the top of the cellar stairs, his arms full of firewood.
“Not you, too, Fleming?” he asked, glancing from Jason to her.
She blushed.
“The gossip in this town defeats any need for the internet,” Jason said impatiently.
“Sorry.” Lyle sent Fleming an apologetic look. He carried the wood to the hearth near his check-in counter and tossed a log into the fire. “Table for two?”
“No.” Fleming flinched as Jason’s voice echoed her own.
“I’ll call down for room service,” the banker said.
Fleming breathed a sigh of relief. She had to create a battle plan. This man wanted his bank in the black. He might say he was helping her, but he’d take the Mainly Merry Christmas shop if shutting her down bettered his bottom line.
Dear Reader (#ud9f8e295-b3cb-5612-b5a3-34d995d4522e),
It’s holiday time in Bliss, Tennessee! Jason Macland’s in Bliss to rescue his family’s bank. Unfortunately, that means he might have to foreclose on some bad loans, including the one for Mainly Merry Christmas, a shop run by Fleming Harris.
Fleming believes in the spirit of the holidays. Jason just wants to do his job and move on to the next one. Determined to remain detached from the citizens in the hometown he doesn’t even remember, every day for him is like a visit from some ghost of his past. Will he learn about joy from Fleming? And will he help her finally believe that a loving, honorable man can stay?
I’m so happy to be back in Bliss, the Smoky Mountain town where Now She’s Back and Owen’s Best Intentions are also set. As always, my visit back was like a trip through memories of my own childhood in the Smokies. I hope you’ll find your own sweet memories bounding up out of this story of celebrating love.
All the best,
Anna Adams
A Christmas Miracle
Anna Adams
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANNA ADAMS wrote her first romance on the beach in wet sand with a stick. These days she uses pens, software or napkins and a crayon to write the kinds of stories she loves best—romance that involves everyone in the family and often the whole community. Love, like a stone tossed into a lake, causes ripples to spread and contract, bringing conflict and well-meaning “help” from the people who care most.
For Pete, and for all of us who love you. My memories of you will always bristle with joy and your laugh. I miss you so much, but you are not lost to any of us.
Contents
Cover (#ubf3580f8-2267-547a-b83a-c5dbf4a5c9cd)
Back Cover Text (#ubd8f5b1c-d261-551b-97d2-41fff87b1f67)
Introduction (#uf08f0829-7b1a-5a67-93c9-80526331e521)
Dear Reader (#u234534cc-6afc-56cd-a1ec-ef9e3d82644f)
Title Page (#u531c3c70-d282-5ab3-85cc-8ed90951114b)
About the Author (#u90c5558e-38ca-5514-b34e-bb54ab6c3a69)
Dedication (#uc0129b48-043f-5154-bf6f-837f76fe65b7)
CHAPTER ONE (#u49a041b4-2c12-5f1a-ad2f-92132846f647)
CHAPTER TWO (#u75e4e646-37f7-5637-9214-a4f2151d3ad3)
CHAPTER THREE (#u84a76daf-ef08-5f7b-8fe8-2e56c1257695)
CHAPTER FOUR (#uc0a85ddc-9925-5e92-bab3-b10255ccee7a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#uc50b293b-6b05-591b-9d10-30a5fc953067)
CHAPTER SIX (#u1d32cb8d-6480-59bd-8742-439e323415ba)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ud9f8e295-b3cb-5612-b5a3-34d995d4522e)
DESPITE BEING GOOD friends with technology, Fleming Harris answered Jason Macland’s summons to the bank with printed copies of all the paperwork she could find. She knew very little about Jason. He was the son of the bank’s owner, but he was a stranger to the remote Smoky Mountains town of Bliss, Tennessee, not having set foot there in decades.
Fleming had heard stories. People said Jason was his father’s hired gun, brought in to close accounts, trim fat, sew up loopholes.
She swallowed a lump of panic as she smoothed her skirt beneath the pile of folders on her lap. Across the room, Hilda Grant, Jason’s admin, shared an empathetic smile that worried Fleming.
Her shop, Mainly Merry Christmas, was her future and her past. She’d grown up “working” with her single mother behind the counter, playing with the wooden trains that doubled as decoration during the holiday season, learning to count by handing out change. Her pride was tied up in the twinkling lights and the beautiful ornaments.
And the burdensome loan payments. She’d missed only two. Shame burned her. Only.
This bank guy wouldn’t have summoned her if he wasn’t about to threaten her shop.
“You can go in now,” Hilda said.
At the same time, the office door opened and a man emerged, lean and tall, with wary dark eyes and dark brown hair. His gaze caught her as if she were in a spotlight.
“Hello,” she said, when what she meant was What do you want from me?
“Please, Ms. Harris.” He held the door for her, ushering her inside. His mouth, a generous slash of masculine fullness, did not curve.
She stood, and her legs felt as stiff as planks as she passed in front of him, into the office of the bank’s president, William Gaines. Some said Mr. Gaines had taken a pre-Thanksgiving vacation, but she’d also heard he’d been fired.
“Mr. Macland,” she began, keeping things on a formal footing.
“Jason.” He shut the door behind her and gestured with an open, capable hand toward the leather couch in front of a wide fireplace, where a tablet was set up on a rustic, scarred coffee table. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know why I’ve asked you here,” he said.
Her mouth opened in surprise at his abruptness. She shut it. She wouldn’t give up the store to some bully. She’d find a way to fight him.
He waited for her to sit. “Would you like coffee?”
“I’d like to get this over with.” She tried to appear more confident than she felt. “I know I’m behind on payments.”
His hard mouth softened. He sat in the chair kitty-corner to the sofa and turned the tablet so they could both view the screen. “That’s exactly what I want to discuss.” He straightened one leg, looking more like a jock than the loan police. Muscles and strength. Power, leashed by frustration. The observation unsettled her even more.
He continued. “Mr. Paige, the former loan officer—”
“Former?” Bliss’s ultra-busy grapevine had fallen down on reporting part of the news cycle.
Untroubled by her interruption, Jason merely breathed in and went on, his husky voice claiming all her attention. “Mr. Paige was let go because he approved loans for certain of his clients under terms that were inappropriate.”
“I’m not understanding you.” She stood. “Are you suggesting I’ve done something wrong?”
He glanced down at the sofa, clearly asking her to sit again. “Not at all. You are behind on your loan, but that’s not why I’ve asked you here. Mr. Paige was skimming from several of the accounts and I believe he knew you’d never be able to continue to repay under the terms he offered you. I assume he meant to run before my father caught on to what’s been happening here.”
“The bank did something wrong?” A moment’s relief made Fleming realize she hadn’t breathed freely for two months. Was there a way out of this mess she seemed to be making of her life? “Am I going to keep the store?”
His expression didn’t change. She had the feeling he’d been repeating this conversation with other clients like her.
“I’m offering you a chance to secure a new loan with more affordable terms,” he explained. “Mr. Paige will be speaking to the district attorney. The bank is making restitution for his actions.”
“So that’s your point.” She followed his blunt lead. “I’m not interested in suing the bank. I only care about keeping my store, and I thought you were going to tell me I’m about to lose it.”
He nodded, reaching for the tablet. His hands distracted her again as he slid his fingers across the screen, his glance lifting to her face.
This man held her future in his spreadsheets. Fleming had some dreams she wanted to make reality, and keeping Mainly Merry Christmas for her own children was one of them.
“Not everyone has reacted as calmly as you have,” he said.
“You’re trying to measure whether I’m aware of what’s happening?”
He sat back. “No, Ms. Harris. I don’t doubt your intelligence.”
“Fleming.”
His smile caught her unawares.
She didn’t want to be attracted to him.
“Fleming,” he said, and turned back to the tablet. “If you’re agreeable, we’ll start from the beginning with a loan for you. I don’t usually work in the loan office, but since this is my family’s bank, I have the same concern you do that we all succeed in Bliss.”
“Are you saying I have recourse? Have I overpaid?”
A commotion interrupted from the outer office. Raised voices and thudding as if something had dropped on the floor.
Before Jason could speak, the door burst open. A tall glass vase tumbled and broke and furniture skidded as a man dived over the back of the couch, trying to plant his fist in Jason’s face.
With barely any effort at all, Jason stood and twisted out of the intruder’s reach. Jason climbed over the table and put himself between Fleming and his attacker, who’d ended up on the floor.
“Paige,” Jason said, as he pulled Fleming up and tucked her behind his back. The man at their feet scrambled for handholds on the table and the sofa.
Without thinking, Fleming flattened her hands on Jason’s back. “We need the police,” she gasped.
He urged her toward the office door. “Get out of here.”
She froze. “I can’t just leave you with him.” Walk away and leave someone else in possible danger? She looked into his eyes, and in that moment of ugly violence a bond formed between them. She took a step back, but not because she was afraid of the intruder.
“Stay there,” another voice barked.
