"Tissues Required for this Christmas Read"
Reviewed by Sarah Horwath
Posted August 15, 2013
Romance | Holiday
In SINGLE DAD'S CHRISTMAS MIRACLE, Clark Beaumont is
struggling with raising his son who is failing school and a
daughter who only talks in whispers. Althea Johnson is only
looking for a temporary job for the holidays before she
makes the move back home. Little does she know that this job
will be anything but temporary. Clark is hurt by the
lie's his late ex-wife told and afraid to love somebody
else.
Althea is afraid to love anyone for fear her past will come
back to haunt her.
I cannot praise this book enough. SINGLE DAD'S CHRISTMAS
MIRACLE was so dang good. I couldn't put this book down. I
finished this book in one day, this book was so heartwarming
I was practically in tears throughout the whole story. I
loved the struggles Clark had to go through with not
realizing he was hurting his son by not letting him go to
public school or being to overprotective of them. Clark is
physically and emotionally scarred by his late wife having
an affair for over a year with one of their employees, he is
basically humiliated and hurt by this affair so bad that he
fears for his children going into town for they might here
gossip about them. Both Clark and Althea feel that they are
no good for each with their scarred pasts and that it
wouldn't be possible for them to love each other, but little
do they know its Christmas and Christmas always brings
miracles.
Susan Meier did a wonderful job with the story line and
capturing my attention. I have read tons of Harlequin books
before and I don't think any of them had
cryinglike this book did before. SINGLE DAD'S CHRISTMAS
MIRACLE is beautifully written and is such a great love
story.
SUMMARY
He needs a helping hand… Having recently lost his wife, Clark Beaumont is trying to
make it through the holidays for the sake of his kids. But
with his son failing at school and his little girl talking
only in whispers, he needs nothing short of a miracle…. …when one arrives on his doorstep! Althea Johnson is only meant to tutor Clark's son. But with
her help the Beaumont family begins to come alive again, and
against the odds Althea hopes that when Christmas morning
arrives there will be four stockings hanging over the
fireplace….
ExcerptJack about died of happiness when Althea told him about
her talk with his father. He dove into his studies, set the
table for their lunch of canned soup and bagels and met his
father at the door when he returned from work that night.
He launched himself into his arms, hugging him. "Thanks."
Clark's gaze rose to meet Althea's, as he spoke to his
hugging son. "This is all contingent on you getting your
grades up."
Jack stepped away. "I know. I will."
Althea slid her arm around Jack's shoulder. Looking at
Clark she said, "So what'd you bring for dinner?"
"I stopped at a fish place."
"I didn't see a fish place in town."
"That's because I don't work in town. I moved my office
to a big, empty warehouse in between Worthington and
Greenfield, the next town over."
"Oh." And she knew why. He'd kept Jack out of school to
protect him from gossip, but he'd moved his offices so he
didn't have to deal with it either.
"So, Jack, get the plates. I'll open the boxes and we'll
have dinner."
They ate their fish, laughing over the fact that they
would soon run out of fast food places to get supper. When
dinner was over, Clark tossed his paper napkin into the
basket–like container that had held his food.
"At least we never have to do dishes."
"I would do the dishes tonight," Jack said, happily
gathering the boxes and paper bags to toss into the trash.
Althea caught Jack's arm to prevent him from leaving the
room. "I have a better idea."
Clark peeked up at her. "Oh, yeah?"
Her nervous system went haywire. Now that they'd talked,
she understood why. His heart had been on his sleeve that
morning. He loved Jack but he was afraid. Not for himself
but for Jack. To a woman who had grown up in a home with dad
who hated his children, Clark's love for his son was amazing.
She rose from the table. "I found a stash of Christmas
decorations in the attic while Teagan was napping and Jack
was working. I thought we could hang the lights."
Clark's face scrunched in confusion. "It's too early to
put up a Christmas tree."
She gave him a look, trying to tell him to keep up with
where she was going with this. They'd talked about him
decorating with the kids that morning so he could interject
things about their mom as they decorated. She was helping
him get that ball rolling.
"I don't want to hang lights on a tree. I want to hang
them on the porch, around the railing and along the roof
overhang."
Jack cheered, Teagan clapped but Clark gaped at her. "You
want to use a ladder in the dark?"
God, he was thick! Of course, he had worked all day and
lots of things had happened to him in between this morning's
conversation and now.
Still giving him her
remember–our–talk–from–this–morning–look,
she said, "There are plenty of outside lights on the front
porch and around the house. Once we turn them all on, it
won't be dark. Plus, there's a big storm coming on Saturday.
We do it tonight or we don't do it at all."
Jack said, "Please. Please. Please."
Teagan looked at her dad with a pleading expression and
Althea burst out laughing. He might have forgotten their
conversation, but the kids wanted to decorate. "You're
outnumbered."
He pushed back his chair and rose. "I'm also the one
who's going to have to climb the ladder, which will be
sitting in snow."
"We can anchor it."
Clark sighed. "Yes. We can."
Jack said, "Yay!" Teagan danced around, hugging her bear.
Clara Bell woofed.
Clark shooed them all toward the front foyer. "I've gotta
change into jeans. You guys get coats and boots on."
Jack helped Teagan with her coat and boots while Althea
raced to the attic and retrieved the boxes of lights she'd
found.
By the time she slid into her coat and boots and carried
the two boxes marked "outdoor lights" onto the front porch,
Clark was lugging the ladder over.
"Okay, Ma'am, where do you want this?"
His imitation of a handyman made her laugh, but he wore
the same tight jeans and sweater he'd had on the day she'd
arrived at his house and Althea remembered why she'd
instantly been attracted to him. The soft denim of his
well–worn jeans caressed his butt. The sweater
accented muscles hidden by his white shirts and ties. He
looked happy, comfortable.
Her quilted jacket suddenly became too warm. She licked
her lips.
"Althea? Ladder?"
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She'd been staring at
him – virtually salivating over him – and he'd seen.
She peeked up, saw his twinkling eyes. Oh, yeah. He'd seen.
She shook her head haughtily, causing her hair to cascade
around her. He wasn't the only attractive person in this
equation and she wasn't the only attracted person in this
equation. If he wanted to play games, he could bring it. She
was ready.
"Are there hooks on the roof for the lights?"
His face contorted a bit as he thought. "If memory
serves, I think there are."
She sashayed over, patted his forearm. "Then why don't
you just take the ladder to the left corner?" She smiled
sweetly. "You climb up, I'll hand you the lights and you can
connect them."
His breath hissed out from between his teeth. He looked
about ready to say something, but glanced at his eager kids
and walked the ladder to the far corner of the house. He
anchored the bottom before he slowly let it fall to the
porch roof.
She smiled. "Want me to hold it while you climb up?"
He frowned. "I don't think we have a choice." Then his
eyes narrowed. Probably because he realized she'd have a
perfect view of his behind while he ascended the rungs.
She laughed. "Just start climbing."
As he ascended the first few rungs, she handed Jack the
big circle of lights. When Clark got about halfway, they
unwound enough of the string that he could take the end with
him. He found the hook and latched it.
"It looks like there's a hook about every four feet. The
next time I'll set the ladder in between two hooks."
"Makes sense to me."
He climbed down. They moved the ladder. Althea and Jack
took a few steps to the right as Clark ascended again. This
time he connected the lights onto two hooks.
That process continued until the front porch roof had
been strung with lights.
Clark climbed down from the ladder. Teagan yanked on his
sweater sleeve. She whispered in his ear and he shook his
head. "We don't turn them on until we have all the lights up."
Her little lips turned down into a pout.
"That's what mom used to say."
Clark's head jerked up and his gaze to flick to Jack.
Althea held her breath. Sympathy for Jack mixed with the
ache she felt for Clark. He didn't want to talk about Jack's
mom, but he had to. They'd already decided that this morning.
A second ticked by. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Then Clark quietly said, "She was a stickler for details."
The breath Althea had been holding leached out slowly,
soundlessly. But she picked up some snow and tossed it at
Clark. This couldn't be a sad conversation. It had to be
fun. "Like you're not?"
Stunned, Clark pivoted to face her. She nudged her head
in Jack's direction, hoping he'd catch her meaning. Nobody
wanted to be sad. Three years had gone by. Jack needed to
remember his mom in a good way. A happy way. Especially when
it concerned a holiday.
"Oh, his mom was worse." Clark picked up the second
string of lights and pointed so Jack would walk with him to
the far side of the porch railing. "If you think I worry
about details, you should have seen you mom."
Jack laughed.
Unstringing enough of the lights that he could latch them
into the hook on the porch railing, he said, "She didn't
like to shop in stores or malls. So she'd go online and pour
over descriptions of silly things like ornaments for the
tree as if they were family heirlooms."
"Someday they will be family heirloom," Althea reminded
them. "Jack, you and Teagan should find ornaments you really
like, things your mom bought, and save them for when you're
adults. They'll be great keepsakes for your trees."
Jack nodded.
Althea and Clark's gazes met over Jack's head. Clark
said, "You know, we don't talk about your mom much. Is there
anything you'd like to know? A memory you'd like to tell us?"
He shook his head. "I don't remember much."
Althea placed her hand on Jack's back and rubbed
affectionately. "Maybe you have photo albums?"
"We have some pictures in the computer," Clark said
slowly. The subject was painful, but necessary. Still, even
understanding that, Althea could see how difficult this was
for him.
Teagan sidled up to Althea and slid her tiny white
mittened hand into hers as she snuggled against her side.
Clark unstrung enough of the lights to get to the corner
of the porch. Jack followed behind him, holding the neatly
wound circle of lights. They worked together as if they'd
done this a million times, but from what Jack had said about
their Christmases they only put up a tree. Which meant these
lights had been wound by his mom, Clark's wife. That was
probably what Clark was remembering.
A reverent hush fell over the night. Surrounded by
darkness, the lit porch felt like a world of its own. Clark
latched the lights into the hooks. Jack followed him, the
circle of colored bulbs unwinding as Clark walked it to the
next hook. Teagan held Althea's hand.
She understood why Clark hadn't wanted to talk about his
wife. She understood why he'd let a tradition or two go to
the wayside. But the damage left in the wake of his
necessary healing process was the emptiness, the quiet, the
silence that seemed to permeate everything they did.
And she didn't know how to fix it. Her own life had been
a dark place. Silent while her dad worked. Filled with
terror when he was home.
Why had she ever believed she could help these kids? This
family?
She might be attracted to Clark and she might long for a
real relationship, but her problems had formed her. She'd
never been anything but afraid, skeptical, wary. She didn't
trust. She didn't know how to be a normal woman, forget
about being a mom. And if she got involved with Clark, fell
in love and married him, she instantly became a mother. Her
only example of marriage was a man who beat his wife until
she so feared her husband she didn't eat and died before she
turned fifty.
Her thoughts that morning about having a relationship
with Clark had been selfish and foolish. It might have been
fun to daydream about it, but he had enough problems in his
life without dragging him into hers.
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