Assuming that Lindy-who knew all there was to know about Shayna’s background-had already brought Travis up to speed, Shayna jumped right in. “Dr. Walker intends to counter Patty’s blackmail threats by going public with my existence. He’s offering me a million-dollar settlement in exchange for appearing on his talk show so he can play father of the year and compensate me for all my years of poverty and suffering.”

“‘Poverty and suffering’? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, wait. It gets better. In exchange for his compensation, I have to support his bogus claim that he never knew about me and promise to never say anything negative about him, publicly or privately.”

“Are you saying he’s known about you all along?” Travis asked.

“According to Patty, Walker’s talk about having recently learned about me is total fiction. She swears he knew, from the very beginning. And now that she’s threatened to tell the world, he suddenly wants to recognize my existence and ‘make amends’? I don’t think so.”

“Do you have any legal proof that he’s known about you all along?”

“What would it matter?” Her hands started twirling through the tail of her braid. “Digging up proof and fighting his claim would just drag this out, and I certainly don’t want that. I just want them all to leave me-and Daddy-out of this.”

“What does James have to do with this?”

“If I go on national television and make nice with that jerk, it will stir up lots questions, and I don’t have good legal answers for all of them. I’m afraid that when the story gets out, people will persecute Daddy for the decisions that saved my life and made us a family.” How could she possibly betray his love and loyalty by casting suspicions on his actions, by going back on her vow to be his daughter for the rest of her life?

“Shayna,” Travis said gently, leaning forward in his chair. “I won’t deny that when people first learn the facts about your history, James might initially come off looking bad. But,” he stressed as she attempted to interrupt, “those same facts, along with his impeccable reputation, will also exonerate him.”

She exhaled in relief. That had been her hope, but hearing a man with Travis’s experience say the words calmed her lingering fears.

“However,” Travis continued cautiously, not allowing her time to savor his consensus. “You have to know that if you don’t cooperate, Walker will likely escalate this issue until every piece of your life has been made public. A man in his position doesn’t take defeat or disobedience well.”

“Kyle implied that Walker wouldn’t react kindly if I refused his offer. He said the legal agreement was designed to be a win-win compromise and my only good shot of putting this behind me with any kind of speed and moving on with life.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” Travis hefted the legal documents. “This looks like the closest you’ll come to a victory.”

“How? The only winners I see are Walker, who gets to keep his sterling reputation, and Kyle, who earns his partnership. What do I get?” Her shoulders slumped under the weight of her worries.

“A million dollars?”

She shook her head, pulling her hair free from her nervous fingers. “I can get by fine without his guilt money.”

“But with it you can do so much better than merely get by.”

She sat up and stared into his baffled expression. Guess it was difficult for someone with Travis’s background to understand why anyone would choose to live without gobs of money.

“Whether he knew about me all along or not, Walker sees my birth as a huge mistake he can fix by throwing money at me. If I take anything from him, he wins. It’ll be like agreeing that my existence is meaningless.”

Lindy cupped her hands over Shayna’s. “Sweetie, you’re giving that man way too much credit. He can’t change who you are or belittle your life unless you allow it.”

“Lindy’s right.” Travis seconded his wife’s opinion. “I never had the pleasure of meeting your dad, Shayna, but from everything I’ve heard, seeing you so eaten up with ugly, negative feelings would have broken his heart.”

Shayna’s shoulders straightened slightly. “He never believed in holding grudges. He used to tell me all the time that hatred could destroy a person’s soul and that if you kept it inside long enough, it would poison you.”

“He was big on forgive and forget, wasn’t he?” Lindy remembered softly.

Shayna sighed. “Yeah, but some wrongs are too cruel to be forgiven.”

Late Sunday afternoon, Kyle walked the half mile separating the boarding house from the giant discount store that was hosting the Noel Festival Toy Drive. A large white tent had been erected in the parking lot. Shayna, looking as scrumptious as she had last night, stood under the awning, charming the crowds as Ms. Noel.

Last night, she had jumped out of his lap and disappeared faster than the camera’s flash. He’d scoured the nearly deserted hall as well as the dwindling carnival for an hour but hadn’t found her. In the end, he’d taken his borrowed costume and returned to the boarding house. If nothing else, it gave him a great excuse to seek her out again.

Turned out he didn’t have to wait long. Or look far.

Closer to the tent, he saw a huge load of donated toys had already been loaded up in the back of a shiny red truck parked beneath the tent. A festively decorated table held a metal bucket overflowing with cash donations. He slipped a handful of bills in as he passed.

When Shayna noticed his arrival, she broke away from the couple she’d been chatting with and strolled over. “I was wondering if you were going to put in an appearance.”

“Missing me?”

Her skin turned rosy, but she didn’t give him a direct answer. “I wanted to thank you for your help last night. You really saved the day. Thanks.”

“No problem. In fact, I enjoyed myself.”

“I could tell, but I must admit, you don’t come across as the kid-friendly type.”

Thinking of all the other neglected kids he’d hung out with on the streets, as well as the ones he’d lived with in group homes and foster care, Kyle shrugged. “You’re not the only one who drew a raw deal in the parent lottery, Shayna. It can leave a hole you never outgrow. Guess that gives me an edge when it comes to relating to kids.”

“Yeah, it helps to understand that childhood isn’t all about baseball games and birthday parties, especially when dealing with the kids who are stuck in the system.” At the tentative touch of her fingers against the back of his hand, he nearly jumped out of his new boots. He’d never experienced chemistry this intense.

“I also wanted to apologize for overreacting after Patty’s phone call and for being so harsh Friday morning.”

At the moment, they were alone, but standing in the middle of the Noel Festival Toy Drive. He didn’t figure that would last. Cupping her elbow, he steered her to the tent’s far corner. “Shayna, I don’t know what your mother said to you, but I swear I never laid a hand on her.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve never thought you were scuzzy enough to be involved with Patty.”

The humorous twinkle in her eyes lifted a weight from Kyle’s shoulders. He couldn’t stomach the idea of Shayna thinking he’d be interested in someone as false and manipulative as Patty Hoyt. “And for the record, kissing you had nothing to do with my job.”

“I know that. Now.” Her fingers tapped her shoulder, but not finding her braid there to toy with, she dropped her hand and worried the fur at her wrist. “The truth is, I freaked out. I’m powerfully attracted to you, Kyle, and I’m not happy about it. I tried very hard to ignore my feelings. When that didn’t work, I blamed you and that wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t the only one who lost control.”

“I noticed.” Her low, sultry laugh hit him below the belt.

Before he could respond, a mother and daughter called Shayna’s name from across the tent, reminding them of their public exposure. She moved back toward the red truck and returned the mother’s wave.

Ready for a safer topic, Kyle followed her and gestured toward the clusters of people donating cash and toys. “Impressive turnout. I wouldn’t have guessed there were this many people living in a town as small as Land’s Cross.”

She smiled cheekily in response to his obvious subject change. “Not all these folks live in town. In a big city, if you travel twenty miles to visit a particular shop or restaurant, you’re likely to pass dozens of similar businesses on the way. Around here, people drive twenty or thirty miles to get to Land’s Cross because it’s the only option.”

“A monopoly, of sorts.”

“Ooh, I love that game.” Shayna looked over her shoulder, where a scrawny boy in need of a haircut sat in the truck bed, sorting through the donated toys. Kyle recognized him from last night as the little boy who’d refused to sit in his or, rather, Santa’s lap. “Tommy, add Monopoly to the wish list.”

“Miz Shayna, how do you spell it?”

A pack of elderly ladies approached the table before she could answer. “I’ll help him,” Kyle volunteered.

“Are you sure? It can wait, if you’ve got something else you need to be doing.”

“Nope. The only thing on my agenda between now and my return flight Tuesday afternoon is waiting for you to speak with your attorney.”

“Ahh, so you’ve been forced to take a vacation.”

“Guess so.” He scowled at the idea. He was a man with a plan. He didn’t have time for a vacation.

“Poor baby,” she purred. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll survive. In fact, you might accidentally enjoy yourself.” Shayna chuckled and patted his bicep. Even that brief friendly gesture snapped his desire to life. Enjoying himself-naked, with her-was exactly what he feared if he had to spend time in Land’s Cross without the barrier of his job.

He had to stick his hands in his pocket to keep from grabbing and kissing her. “Accidents do happen.” Aware of all the people watching them, he forced a lazy grin. “I’ll go help the kid.”

“Thanks,” she whispered as he passed, then raised her voice in greeting. “Hello, ladies. You look lovely this afternoon.”

Her lilting voice faded as he approached the truck. Seasoned brown eyes in a freckled face looked him over, sizing him up. When the kid raised his pencil over the legal pad in his lap, Kyle figured he’d passed muster.

As Kyle began slowly calling out the proper spelling, he noticed scraps of the same yellow paper taped to the boxed toys. Each piece held a different name, all written in the same scratchy lettering. Not a single package was tagged “Tommy.”

“Lotta good loot here.”

The boy looked up, squinting from beneath the shaggy hair coating his forehead. “You’re that fake Santa from last night,” he accused. “I don’t believe in Santa Claus.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.” Arms crossed over his chest, the boy wore a battle-ready look Kyle remembered well from his own childhood.

Somewhere, a portable stereo played Christmas carols. As Kyle stared into the boy’s world-weary expression, “Little Drummer Boy” faded into “Joy to the World,” and another memory, a rare, happy recollection, surfaced in his brain, providing him with a rebuttal to Tommy’s skepticism.

“Ever hear the legend of St. Nicholas?”

Tommy shook his head no. Kyle levered himself onto the lowered tailgate and waited, hoping the child’s curiosity would draw him to Kyle’s side. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the boy dropped down next to him, his feet dangling about a foot higher than Kyle’s.

“Hundreds of years ago, this rich guy named Nicholas went to work for the church. During his travels, he met lots of people-mostly sailors and children-who needed help. So Nick used his wealth to buy food, clothes and toys for these people.”

He glanced at his audience from the corner of his eye. The boy sat with his head tilted, his attention rapt. Satisfied to have pierced the kid’s tough-guy act, Kyle continued.

“Before long, St. Nick’s generosity became legendary. To this day, people exchange gifts to honor his memory. We’ve turned the legend of St. Nicholas into Santa Claus, making him a symbol of the holiday spirit.”

“Cool story, but Santa’s still just some made up dude in a funny suit.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Kyle nodded, as though swayed by Tommy’s answer. They sat side by side for a minute, legs swinging. “So, what’s the deal with all the name tags?”

He sensed more than saw Tommy’s shoulder lift in a don’t-know-why-I-bother shrug. “Making sure the little ones get what they want.”

“Cool,” he mimicked the boy’s earlier bored tone. “Know what that makes you?”

“What?”