Crocuses for christmas, p.1
Crocuses for Christmas, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
A Devotional Moment
Thank you
You Can Help!
God Can Help!
Free eBook Offer
Crocuses for Christmas
Carol James
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Crocuses for Christmas COPYRIGHT 2025 by Carol James
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being used to train AI, without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. eBook editions are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. eBooks may not be re-sold, copied or given to other people. If you would like to share an eBook edition, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Contact Information: titleadmin@pelicanbookgroup.com
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version(R), NIV(R), Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Scripture quotations, marked KJV are taken from the King James translation, public domain. Scripture quotations marked DR, are taken from the Douay Rheims translation, public domain.
Scripture texts marked NAB are taken from the New American Bible, revised edition Copyright 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C. and are used by permission of the copyright owner. All Rights Reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
Cover Art by Nicola Martinez
White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC
www.pelicanbookgroup.com PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410
White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC
Publishing History
First White Rose Edition, 2025
Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-5223-0529-3
Published in the United States of America
Chapter 1
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. ~Psalm 147:3
Matthew Dawson held his wife in his arms and tickled her face and neck with kisses. If he didn’t have to work today, he’d stay here in their haven with the love of his life beside him. The only woman he’d ever loved. The only woman he ever would. He groaned. Any second now, the alarm on his phone would play their song, the singer declaring she would always love her sweetheart. As he would always love his sweet Natalie.
Their song floated from the radio on his nightstand and filled their room. He slipped his hand to the other side of the bed. The smooth, cool fabric of the sheets met his touch. As reality set in, he opened his eyes and jerked himself up. He’d been dreaming. The space beside him was empty. The sheets unruffled. The pillow smooth. No Natalie. Not today…not last night…not ever again.
“Matt.” Mom’s voice crept up the stairs, piercing his mournful solitude, reminding him this was not a dream. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life in bed. After easing back the covers, he struggled to sit up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood, ready to perform his morning ritual, and then trudged to her closet and opened the door. He stepped inside, turned on the light, and buried his face in her pink dress. Her scent still lingered, but as each day passed, its strength faded a little more. Before long, it would be gone. Just like she was.
He left the closet and padded down the hallway. He paused at Emma’s door and eased it closed until only a crack remained. Large enough to hear her if she cried out, but small enough to muffle most of the morning noise…although she’d never had a problem sleeping. She might look like her mother, but she slept like him. Or at least, the way he used to.
The bottom stair creaked as he stepped into the entry hall. He’d promised Nat he’d fix it. But he never had. He’d always assumed he’d have time. Later. But time wasn’t a bank account where he could deposit more funds to increase his balance and withdraw some to use when his cache ran low.
If he’d known then what he knew now, he’d have taken advantage of every moment. He’d have worked less and played more. He’d have travelled less and worked from the office or from home more. He’d learned the hard way that life was about where you invested your time…not your money.
Mom was standing at the stove—the professional gas range Natalie had picked out when they redid the kitchen—She looked up at him. “How’d you sleep, sweetie? Any better?”
“Same.” He kissed her on the cheek and then poured himself a large mug of coffee…hot, black, and bitter. It reflected the state of his heart.
He eased into one of the chrome and leather dining chairs. Mom set two plates of cheese-eggs, bacon, and biscuits on the glass table. One at his place, and one at hers—the place that used to be Natalie’s… Then she sat.
“So, Matt, honey, I’ll be happy to stay a few weeks longer. Even through Christmas if you’d like. Dad could join us for the holidays. We’d love to watch Emma celebrate. It would be fun.”
Fun? He shook his head. “You’ve done a lot, been a real blessing to us. I’m sure Dad’s missing you and wants you back home.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll be OK.” He’d said it, but he didn’t believe it.
She leveled her gaze at him and gave him the you-better-listen-to-your-mama look he grew up with. “We’ll talk more about this later. Have you made any progress finding a nanny?”
He shook his head. “Having a stranger in the house, even though she’d have her own apartment, is…weird. Not sure I can do that. Anyway, I made an appointment with Mrs. Walters at the school today. We’ll see if she has any recommendations.”
He ate a piece of bacon, nibbled on his biscuit, and took a couple of bites of egg. Then he stood. “I’m full.”
“Matt, you need to make yourself eat. That’s not enough to keep you going.”
He pecked her on the cheek. “No reflection on your cooking. Food’s great. My stomach’s not.”
“You’ve lost too much weight.”
“I know.” His appetite was gone. Food made him sick. What did she expect him to do?
She grasped his hand and squeezed it. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. Better get ready.”
~*~
Matt stood outside the double glass doors that led into the school. Even though he’d prayed all the way over here, peace eluded him. He had no idea how things would work out. Having Mom here temporarily filled a gap, but it couldn’t be permanent. Even though, she’d be happy to stay as long as they needed her, that wasn’t fair to her or Dad, no matter what she said. This was his life and his issue to handle, not theirs. He took a deep breath, sent up a heart prayer, and pushed the doorbell.
“May I help you?” A female voice greeted him.
“Matthew Dawson. I have an appointment with Mrs. Walters.”
“Hi, Mr. Dawson. It’s Claire. She’s expecting you. Please come in.”
The electric lock clicked, and he entered. A young blonde stood.
“Morning, Claire.” He signed the visitors’ register, and she handed him a nametag. He slapped it onto his jacket lapel.
She smiled. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Dawson. Come this way.”
He knew where Mrs. Walters’s office was, but he followed Claire anyway. It was as much for his protection as for theirs. They turned left, and she led him to the last room on the right.
They entered the outer office. She gestured toward one of the vinyl chairs in the waiting area. “Have a seat. She’ll be right with you.”
The few seconds he sat there may as well have been hours. Time that used to fly by now crept along. Finally, the office door opened, and Mrs. Walters came out. She’d been his kindergarten teacher.
He stood.
“Hello, Matthew.” She hugged him.
He grasped her offered hand. “Mrs. Walters. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Of course. How could I not see one of my favorite students?” She smiled. “Come in.”
He followed her into her office, and after she sat in one of the wingback chairs against the wall, he dropped into the other.
“So, Matthew, how are you? How’s Emma?”
“Fine.”
“Fine?” She stared at him with lifted eyebrows.
Maybe coming here was a mistake. “Look, I’m not here to talk about us and how we’re doing, ma’am.”
She leaned forward. “And, why are you here then?”
“I’m looking for a live-in nanny, au pair, babys itter, whatever you want to call it…someone to take care of Emma when I go back to work full time. Maybe do a little light housework, some cooking. And instead of going through an agency, I want to hire someone that a person I respect and trust knows.” He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Here’s the information: projected salary, benefits, responsibilities, vacation time. Living quarters will be provided in a small apartment in one wing of the main house.”
She read the information. “This is very generous. I have a couple of people in mind. Let me think and pray about it.”
“Sure. I want the best qualified person I can find. I’m going to expect a lot.”
“As you should.” She stood, and he followed suit.
He shook her offered hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. And, Matthew, please let me know if I can do anything to help with Emma.” She hugged him. “We’ve been praying for you and will continue to do so.”
He nodded in silence. He wasn’t sure he could keep it together if he tried to speak.
~*~
Matt pulled his car into the company parking garage. He hadn’t been back in the office since the day before that night. The last time he’d seen any of his co-workers was at the funeral. This whole situation was hard enough and painful enough without people staring at him. They meant well, but he’d seen it in their eyes and on their faces. Pity. Fear that they’d accidentally say something that would make him break down in front of them.
Fortunately, an international sales job could be done from anywhere. Most of his customers were working when he should have been sleeping. His old work schedule had been two days at home, three in the office. But after the funeral, Chris told him he could take as much time off work as he needed. To work from home as long as he wanted. Three months, at least, to rest and heal. Generous, but even if he stayed home for three years, that wouldn’t be enough.
So, what was he doing here? He’d needed to feel normal. To escape from home and the memories: her lilac robe, her blue blouse. The scent of her perfume filling their bedroom. He had no idea how people healed from this. He needed to work for his sanity, to achieve even a small amount of normalcy. But if he went into the office, Chris would just send him home. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. He needed help. Dear Lord…
His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. He didn’t recognize the number. Probably a sales call. He’d let it go to voicemail. His phone beeped.
“Hello, Mr. Dawson. I’m Hannah Collins. Mrs. Walters gave me your contact information. I’m interested in speaking with you about the nanny position you have available. Please call me at your convenience. My number is—”
That was quick. He picked up the call. “Ms. Collins, sorry. I was in the middle of something and couldn’t answer immediately.”
“Oh, I know how that can be. Phones are a wonderful invention, but sometimes they can be intrusive.”
The tone of her voice made him think of sparkly things like the stars, diamonds, the sun shimmering on a lake. Definitely sparkly things.
“Mrs. Walters gave me your contact information, and I’d like to learn more about the nanny position, if it’s still available, that is.”
He didn’t know anything about her. What if she turned out to be some psycho? No, Mrs. Walters wouldn’t recommend her unless she was good. But they needed to meet somewhere neutral. Not his house. That’d come later.
If he liked her.
“Do you know The Perks?”
“I do.”
As nerves overwhelmed him, perspiration covered his forehead and upper lip. He had to do this sometime. “Can you meet there after lunch? Say about one o’clock?”
“Yes. See you then. Oh, I’ll be the one with the red rose between her teeth.”
“Excuse me?”
The warmth of her laughter calmed him.
“Just kidding. I’ll be wearing black slacks with a pink sweater. No rose.”
He took a deep breath. “And I’ll have on a navy blue suit with a red and navy striped tie.”
“Got it. See you soon. And thank you for the opportunity, sir.”
He ended the call. She sounded nice. But “sir?” How young was she? And how old did she think he was? He shook his head. Better let Mom know what was going on.
~*~
Hannah picked up her chai from the counter and began a tour around the packed coffee shop. Nobody in a navy suit with a red and navy tie. Hopefully, he hadn’t changed his mind. She needed this job. She glanced at the wall clock behind the counter. It wasn’t quite time yet, so maybe he’d be here before long. Whether a person was on time to appointments told a lot about them, and if he’d never hired a nanny before, he probably didn’t realize she’d be interviewing him as much as he’d be interviewing her.
She made her way to the glass doors that led onto the back deck. The weather was sunny, and she wanted to take advantage of the warmth before winter set in. She scanned the patio. In the far corner, at a table apart from the others, sat a man in a navy suit and red and navy striped tie. Oh, he was handsome. Dark brown hair Goldilocks would’ve loved. Not too long, not too short. Just right. She paused. She’d had trouble with a handsome employer before, and it wasn’t going to happen ever again. She took a deep breath and slapped a smile on her face.
As she approached the table, he looked up and then stood. “Mr. Dawson?”
He nodded. His eyes were electric blue.
She offered her hand, and he grasped it. His was smooth. Certainly not that of a man who earned his living performing manual labor. “I’m Hannah Collins. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”
“Same.” He pulled out the chair across from his, and held it for her. “Please have a seat, and, uh, no need to call me sir.”
Check one. Polite. “Thank you.” After she scooted into the chair, he returned to his seat. “Lovely day,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes, it is.” He glanced over her shoulder and then shrugged. “I’ve interviewed lots of people for jobs but never anyone to work—and live—in my home. It feels kinda strange.”
Check two. Honest. She nodded. “I understand. It’s very different to interview someone you’ll be entrusting with the care and safety of your child. A person who’ll live in the same house with you, rather than work alongside you a few hours a day.”
He cupped his hands around his coffee mug. A black wedding band encircled his left ring finger. The first time she’d seen a man wearing such a ring, she thought it was odd. But then she’d read that it symbolized perseverance and courage, as well as deep love for and dedication to the partner. That one piece of jewelry told her more about his heart and his relationship with his wife in only a few seconds. Much less than it might have taken her weeks to discover.
She slipped a copy of her resumé out of her bag and slid it across the table. “Here you go. I imagine you’ll want this.”
He nodded and glanced through the papers. He looked up at her. “A masters in child development? From Oxford, England?”
“Indeed.”
He raised his eyebrows. He flipped through the rest of the résumé, and then he looked back at her. “OK if I keep this?”
“That’s my intention.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome.” She drew some stapled papers from her bag and scooted them across the table. “And this is also for you.”
He picked up the papers and thumbed through the pages. “Questions?”
She nodded. “If I’m going to be taking care of your daughter and living in your house or on your property, I want to make certain we both have an understanding of each other’s expectations.”
For the first time since she’d stepped out onto the patio, he smiled. Really smiled. Check three. Handsome. She couldn’t let any of this become a problem.
Chapter 2
For the third time, Matt slipped the papers Hannah had given him back into the envelope. Her background check was clean, and her resumé was as impressive as it was the first time he’d read it. She had notable recommendations from previous employers who, judging by their titles, were probably rich and important. Gentry. His house was nothing to sneeze at, but it wasn’t a castle or a manor house. If that’s what she was used to, what she was looking for, she’d be disappointed. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a deal-breaker.
