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The Lawman's Holiday Wish
Ruth Logan Herne
No one in Kirkwood Lake seems willing to forget, or forgive, Rainey McKinney’s troubled past. But Rainey can’t afford to let that bother her.Her top priority is rebuilding her life and being a good mom to her twin daughters. Even handsome deputy sheriff Luke Campbell can’t distract her, tempting as he is. She’s determined to keep her distance, but as his son and her girls form a special bond, Rainey and Luke can’t help but do the same. Can Rainey put her past behind her once and for all and embrace a future full of hope—and love?
Second-Chance Christmas
No one in Kirkwood Lake seems willing to forget, or forgive, Rainey McKinney’s troubled past. But Rainey can’t afford to let that bother her. Her top priority is rebuilding her life and being a good mom to her twin daughters. Even handsome deputy sheriff Luke Campbell can’t distract her, tempting as he is. She’s determined to keep her distance, but as his son and her girls form a special bond, Rainey and Luke can’t help but do the same. Can Rainey put her past behind her once and for all and embrace a future full of hope—and love?
Kirkwood Lake: A town full of heart and hope.
As Rainey handed the tray
up to him, their gazes met again.
Sheer beauty.
And it wasn’t because of her lovely face, her gold-toned skin or the soft tumble of hair.
It was her spirit, shining through the smile she gave him.
His chest tightened, as it did the week before, when he’d first laid eyes on her. But inside, his heart melted.
Think, man. She’s got a troubled history.
He knew that. Rainey’s teenage years had been nothing but trouble, but in all his years on the force, he’d seen a lot of kids change their lives. Why not her? Why not now?
Was he willing to risk his son’s well-being? He was a grown man. Aidan was a kid who’d already drawn the short straw on mothers once. Leave it alone.
Luke had to. He knew it.
But ignoring this attraction to Rainey was the last thing he wanted to do.
RUTH LOGAN HERNE
Born into poverty, Ruth puts great stock in one of her favorite Ben Franklinisms: “Having been poor is no shame. Being ashamed of it is.” With God-given appreciation for the amazing opportunities abounding in our land, Ruth finds simple gifts in the everyday blessings of smudge-faced small children, bright flowers, freshly baked goods, good friends, family, puppies and higher education. She believes a good woman should never fear dirt, snakes or spiders, all of which like to infest her aged farmhouse, necessitating a good pair of tongs for extracting the snakes, a flat-bottomed shoe for the spiders, and for the dirt…
Simply put, she’s learned that some things aren’t worth fretting about! If you laugh in the face of dust and love to talk about God, men, romance, great shoes and wonderful food, feel free to contact Ruth through her website at www.ruthloganherne.com (http://www.ruthloganherne.com).
The Lawman’s Holiday Wish
Ruth Logan Herne
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
He that is without sin among you,
let him cast the first stone.
—John 8:7
To my wonderful son Luke, a young man
whose strength, grace, humor and brilliance
has been a beacon to his parents. Luke,
we’re so very proud of you! Merry Christmas!
Acknowledgments
Huge thanks to my dear husband, Dave, for road-tripping with me to Chautauqua Lake and Jamestown, New York, the inspirational settings for the fictional “Kirkwood Lake.” To Mandy and Beth for doing the same thing, and the laughter and fun we have on each trip. To the Pittsford Dairy, my model for a glass bottle dairy and bakery. To the migrant workers I’ve met over the years—men and women whose work ethic abounds under tough conditions. God bless you! To Nancy Turner and the crew at www.thisoldhorse.org in Hastings, Minnesota, for her wonderful advice on how to handle “Spirit’s” role in this story. Nancy, you are an amazing woman with a great “spirit” of your own. Thank you so much for your help! It was invaluable. To Virginia Carmichael for her advice on Tres Leches cake! And a huge round of thanks to my daycare moms, whose encouragement and trust humbles me. I love youse guys.
Contents
Chapter One (#u1dec2142-4e79-5a68-9ce7-0f9a9b2ab3c3)
Chapter Two (#ud9fd0503-4999-591f-9e6a-662c948da751)
Chapter Three (#u115d6dbf-bd38-511a-96d6-c327baad8660)
Chapter Four (#u3f3e0310-0b32-59db-87d3-a7a423c04054)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Recipe (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Deputy Sheriff Luke Campbell aimed his cruiser for the Kirkwood Lake Elementary School with measured reluctance. A mandatory meeting with his five-year-old son’s principal and teacher didn’t bode well for him or the boy. It didn’t take an early-education degree to tell Luke what he already knew. Aiden was quiet, withdrawn, uncertain, timid and refused to join activities.
Luke had hoped being in school would help, but this was the second phone call in three weeks regarding Aiden’s issues. How much was real and how much exaggerated by a smart kid who knew how to evoke adult sympathy to the max?
Luke didn’t have a clue.
Did he tend to make excuses for the boy?
Yes.
Did he have good reason?
Yes again, but unless he wanted to be a failure as a parent, he had to find a way to bring Aiden around. The sooner the better.
He’s five. Give him time.
Luke shoved the thought aside. He’d been telling himself that for nearly three years, since Aiden lost his mother. School was important, and getting along with other kids was invaluable, all the books said so. They called it “socialization.”
Luke was the third of seven Campbells, three of whom were adopted. In the Campbell house, you either socialized quickly or got taught a lesson by your big brothers.
Luke’s sweet mother had been praying for Aiden’s situation to improve.
Luke used to pray. Back before he realized the improbability of a just and beneficent God. Because if God did exist, He’d messed up the job, and Luke knew that firsthand.
But if it made his mother feel better to pray, who was he to argue? Jenny Campbell was a great lady, a wonderful mom and grandma, and Luke loved and admired her. He’d leave the praying to her and her church friends.
An aging Camry darted into the school driveway ahead of him, then pulled to a quick, crooked stop in the mostly empty parking lot.
Luke angled into the spot alongside the other car and climbed out. He turned and locked gazes with the dark-haired woman staring at him, her unadorned hands grasping the top of the car door.
Breathtaking beauty. Tall and slim. Scared to death.
You’re in uniform, Einstein.
Of course. She thought he’d followed her into the school lot to issue a ticket, but she hadn’t done anything wrong. The posted signs were school-in-session speed limits, and she hadn’t exactly careened around the corner on two wheels.
But her face held more than concerned chagrin. It held fear, and the cop in him wondered why she feared police. He jerked his head toward the building as he walked that way. “You here for a meeting, too?”
Relief eased her jaw and the set of her shoulders. She nodded as she matched his stride. “Yes.”
Vulnerable but tough; they were two red warning flags, despite the instant attraction. Luke stayed away from vulnerable women. Once burned, twice shy.
Tough women weren’t his cup of tea, either.
His older brother Jack had scolded him the week before. Said he was afraid to shop around because he couldn’t find June Cleaver.
Was Jack right?
Most likely. But this woman wasn’t making eye contact with him, so the attraction must be one-sided.
Or she’s hiding something.
And that was just one more reason to keep his distance. If he could get beyond the caramel skin. The past-her-shoulders, wavy dark hair. Eyes round and deep-toned. “You’ve got a kid here?”
“Two.”
That surprised him. She looked young, mid-twenties. Too young to have two elementary school kids, at any rate. But maybe she wasn’t too young. He might be feeling old before his time.
He stepped forward and swung the door wide for her.
She glanced up to thank him.
Time stopped.
So did she.
Her eyes, a blend of storm-cloud gray and milk-chocolate brown, were a shade he had no name for. Brows, thin and arched, framed long lashes that looked real. Her mouth, soft and full, was perfectly shaped....
No makeup.
Unusual. Didn’t all beautiful women wear makeup these days?
She opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped, pressed her lips together, turned and moved through the door. But that moment—seconds that felt like long, drawn-out minutes—assured him the electricity went both ways.
They walked down one hall side by side, turned right, then proceeded to the principal’s office.
Mr. O’Mara stepped through his door. He nodded to Luke and sent a look of commiseration to the woman. “Rainey, I’m sorry, but you’re late. Deputy Campbell’s meeting is scheduled to start now. Can you wait here and we’ll meet about the twins once we’re done talking with Luke?”
Rainey.
Rainey Cabrera McKinney, the woman who’d done time years ago for a crime she didn’t commit. A woman who’d skated the edge of the law too often as a kid. His friend Piper McKinney had been raising Rainey’s twin daughters until Rainey returned to the family farm last month.
“Rainey wants to make amends,” Piper had told him.
The word on the street, and the look on her face, said the whole making-amends thing wasn’t going too well. Luke’s mother had a saying: “Small-town folks have little to talk about, and drawn-out winters to do it.”
With winter approaching, Piper McKinney’s sister might be in for a long, hard haul.
Rainey nodded, stepped back and took a seat on the hand-crafted wooden bench outside the office. “It’s no problem, Mr. O’Mara. I’ll wait here.”
