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“I know, I heard the stories.” Her aunt chuckled, and then her face got serious again. “Just one more concern, and then I’ll stop mother-henning you. Your car isn’t really made for Colorado roads. The weather’s nice now, but I saw where we might get some freezing rain tonight, in front of some snow.”
Lily bit her lip, glancing over at her old car. Having spent the past year in Phoenix—and the years before that in the Middle East—she’d lost the knack for driving on icy roads. But she had to be able to get into town to investigate Pam’s husband. That was the key reason she was here.
Penny patted her shoulder. “Long John—that’s the vet I mentioned—can arrange a ride for you if you want to go down to town for Christmas Eve services.”
“Thank you.” It would be tough to miss church on Christmas Eve. “I might just have him do that.”
“Good.” Penny turned toward her car, and Lily walked with her into the frosty cold. “While you’re enjoying some mountain solitude, I’ll be with my daughter and grandson out east.” She gave a wry smile. “I wish I could invite you to join us, but my daughter and I have a shaky relationship. Say a prayer that we’ll all get along, will you?”
“Of course.” Lily understood family problems all too well. She hugged the older woman. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”
“I’ll try.” Penny got in her car, started it up and waved. Halfway down the short driveway, she stopped and lowered the window. “I forgot to tell you the name of that family you’re to photograph. It’s Carson Blair, one of our local pastors, and his twin six-year-olds. They’ll be staying up here for the week.” She raised the window and was off.
Lily stared after her aunt’s car as the name she’d thrown out so casually whirled tornado-like through her head.
Carson Blair? She was doing family photographs of Carson Blair?
Pam’s husband and kids were staying up here at Redemption Ranch?
The thought practically made her hyperventilate, but maybe it was a good thing. If they were staying here, it should be easy to do some quiet investigating.
She owed it to Pam. Paying that debt might help Lily move on.
She just had to make sure Carson didn’t discover the awful truth about Pam’s death.
* * *
Carson Blair whistled as he turned his truck into Redemption Ranch, a mere ten miles from his home in Esperanza Springs, but worlds away from his too-busy life. His last-minute plan to spend Christmas week up here was an opportunity to fill his daughters’ hearts while they were off from school, let them have plenty of Daddy time. He would preach the Christmas Eve service tomorrow night, but that was all. Canceling the few other events and closing down the building meant that everyone—the secretary, the janitor, the committee members and volunteers—could do as he was doing: focus on their families.
Coming early to the ranch also let him escape the numerous invitations a single pastor got for Christmas parties and dinners. He loved his congregation, but spending time with their big, happy extended families was a painful reminder of the life he’d hoped his girls would have, but that he hadn’t been able to provide.
He had to admit that he probably wouldn’t have made this Christmas getaway happen without his friend Penny’s urging. She knew he needed a break. But she’d also given him a small side job: watch out for another cabin resident here for the holidays, Penny’s niece, who’d been struggling with her readjustment to civilian life. Apparently she’d had formal counseling through the military, but Penny thought that Carson, as a pastor, could offer a different type of support.
“It’s worth a try,” the older woman had said. “And she’s a beautiful woman. You might enjoy her company.”
Carson had bitten back the uncharacteristically sharp retort that had formed in his mind: Yeah, but will she enjoy mine? Pam didn’t.
He really needed a vacation from failed efforts at matchmaking.
“Just don’t mention I asked you to talk to her,” Penny had gone on, oblivious to Carson’s inner dialogue. “She’s independent.”
He didn’t like deception, but if it was the only way this woman, Lily, would open up, he supposed he could comply with Penny’s request.
He pulled up to Cabin Two and turned to wake up the twins, both asleep in the back seat after a sugar-laden holiday party in their kindergarten class. Their identical faces were flushed, their long eyelashes resting on chubby cheeks. His chest tightened. Despite the sad ending of his wife’s life, the weaknesses of his marriage—the weaknesses he’d had as a husband—his daughters were the wonderful, God-given outcome.
“Wake up, sleeping beauties,” he said quietly, giving a light pat to Skye’s arm, then to Sunny’s.
“Is it Christmas?” Sunny jerked upright.
“Presents?” Skye asked, yawning.
Carson chuckled. His girls did know the true meaning of Christmas, but preachers’ kids were like anyone else’s when it came to gifts.
“Christmas is in two days,” he reminded them. “We’re at the ranch now, though. We’re going to do some sledding, and play with the dogs, and do puzzles by the fire. Let’s get our stuff into the cabin.”
“Yay!” Sunny cried, and both girls scrambled out of their booster seats.
But as Carson opened the truck door, Long John McCabe, one of the gray-haired veterans who lived at the ranch, came toward him, his walker bumping over the dirt path at an alarming pace. “Change of plans,” he said. “Willie’s cabin had a plumbing leak, so you can’t stay there. We’re putting you up in Cabin Five.”
Carson shrugged. “Sure, that’s fine. We’ll be a little farther away from you, but we can bundle up and come visit.”
“Long John!” Both girls spilled out of the truck and ran to hug the older gentleman, carefully, as they’d been taught. “We have a present for you,” Skye added.
“It’s a—” Just in time, Sunny slapped a hand over her own mouth.
“I might have a little something for you two girls as well.” Long John reached a shaky hand down to pat Skye’s head, then Sunny’s.
“I’m going to pull the truck down to Cabin Five so we can unload,” Carson said. “Girls, hop back in.”
“But we want to go pet Rockette,” Skye complained.
“And see Mr. Long John’s Christmas tree,” Sunny added, then looked up at the older man, her forehead wrinkling. “Do you have a Christmas tree?”
“If you don’t,” Skye said, “you can come see ours, when we get it set up.”
“Maybe you can come help!” Sunny suggested. “Daddy, can he?”
“I’m fine. I’ve got a little Norfolk Island pine in a pot.” Long John chuckled at the girls’ enthusiasm and waved Carson toward the row of cabins. “Go ahead, get unpacked and settled. I’ll entertain these two for half an hour, maybe fix ’em some hot chocolate.”
“Can we, Daddy?” Skye pleaded.
Carson drew in a breath to say no, not wanting to put Long John to the trouble, but just in time, he caught the eagerness in the older man’s eyes. Long John didn’t have any kids or grandkids of his own, and his worsening Parkinson’s disease made it difficult for him to get out.
He glanced over at Long John’s cabin and noticed an accessibility ramp in front, its raw, light-colored wood a contrast to the old cabin’s dark hue. That was new.
“You girls can visit,” he said. “But behave and do what Mr. Long John says.”
“Yay!” Sunny ran toward Long John’s cabin.
“Wait!” Skye called sharply after her twin. She walked beside Long John at a sedate pace, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Carson had noticed her considerate behavior.
He had, of course, and he gave her a thumbs-up. It was such a blessing, these older veterans becoming a part of his girls’ lives. The twins had no local grandparents, but these men filled the gap, just as the girls filled a gap in Long John’s life.
He let the truck glide down the road to Cabin Five. Got out and opened the back hatch...and stopped.
At the cabin next door, kneeling to catch a photo of the sun sinking over the Sangre de Cristos, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Well, the second-most beautiful. He could never forget his wife’s glossy golden hair, her sparkling eyes. He’d never stopped loving her, even through the arguments and the emotional distance and the absences.
He’d never thought he would notice another woman. But he was sure noticing this one.
Was this Penny’s niece? If so...wow.
Clad in worn, snug-fitting jeans and a blue parka, the blonde was focusing so closely on what she was doing that she paid him no attention.
Not that a woman who looked like that would pay someone like him any attention. Pam—popular, fun-loving Pam—had been the amazing exception, the girl a former nerdy weakling would never have expected to attract.
“Daddy!” Sunny’s voice sounded behind him, out of breath and upset.
He turned to see her running toward him, covering the rocky dirt road at breakneck speed. “Slow down, sweetie! What’s wrong?”
“Daddy!” She hurtled into him and bounced back, grabbing his hand. “Mr. Long John is hurt!”
He dropped the bags he was carrying and turned toward Long John’s cabin. “Where’s Skye?”
“She’s sitting with him. Come on!”
Carson ran beside her, their breath making fog clouds in the cold air. He should never have left the girls alone with a man in Long John’s condition, even if he had seemed fine just a few minutes ago.
Running footsteps sounded behind him, then beside. “Which cabin?” the blonde woman asked. She was carrying a large first aid kit, and she lifted it to show him. “I overheard. Might be able to help.”
“First one in the row.” He gestured toward it.
“Daddy... I can’t...run any...more.” Sunny slowed beside him, panting, so he stopped to pick her up as the woman jogged ahead.
Now he could see Long John sitting on the bottom porch step, Skye beside him. The older man was conscious and upright, which was reassuring. When the blonde woman reached him, she knelt, spoke and then started pawing through her first aid kit.
Carson reached the trio a moment later and swung Sunny to the ground. “What’s going on? Everyone okay?”
“I’m taking care of him,” Skye said, patting Long John’s arm.
“That you are, sweetie.” Long John reached as if to put an arm around her and winced.
“I wouldn’t move that arm just now, sir,” the blonde woman said. Something about the cadence of her words spelled military. So this most likely was Penny’s niece.
“Good point.” Long John looked ruefully up at Carson. “I’m okay, it’s just the Parkinson’s getting worse. Affects my balance sometimes. I hit the edge of the porch wrong and went down. Bumped myself up and got a nasty splinter.”
“He was spozed to use the ramp,” Sunny explained, “but he didn’t think he needed it.”
“What’s Parkinson’s?” Skye asked.
“It’s a disease that affects your muscles.” As Long John went on with a simple explanation, Carson breathed a sigh of relief. His girls were okay, and Long John was, too, from the looks of things.
Penny’s niece—Lily, her name was—had Long John’s arm out of his parka and was using tweezers to remove the splinter. Once that was done, she swabbed the older man’s hand with something from a clear bottle.
When she glanced back and saw Carson watching, she frowned and nodded toward the porch. “This porch isn’t in great shape, especially for someone with mobility issues.”
Carson nodded. “They’ve been gradually upgrading their structures here, as money permits. Looks like this place should move to the top of the list.” The struggling ranch was getting back on its feet—they all hoped—but it would take time to recover from the embezzlement it’d suffered earlier this year.
Meanwhile, while Carson was here, he’d try his hand at shoring up Long John’s old porch.
“Good idea.” Lily gave him a brief smile and he sucked in his breath. No woman would ever be as beautiful as Pam, but this one, with her slim figure and short, wavy hair and lively eyes, came close.
Not that he was interested.
And certainly, not that she would be.
Carson focused back in on the conversation among Long John and his daughters.
“Could I get that disease?” Sunny was asking.
“Not likely,” Long John said. “I was in a place called Vietnam, and spent a lot of time around a fancy weed killer called Agent Orange. The doctors think that might be why this happened.” He waved a hand at his body. “But don’t you worry. They don’t use it anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” Skye patted his arm again, and Carson smiled.
A matching smile crossed Lily’s face as she looked at the little girl comforting the old man. “There you go, sir,” she said to Long John. “All patched up.”
“Can I help you get inside?” Carson asked.
“Just a hand to stand up,” Long John said. “Think I’ll take it easy, watch a little TV. Your hot chocolate will have to wait until another day,” he added to the girls.
“That’s okay,” Skye said, and then nudged her twin.
“That’s okay,” Sunny said with considerably less enthusiasm.
Carson helped Long John up on one side while Lily steadied him from the other. Once he was on his feet, he gestured for his walker. “I’ll be fine from here,” he said.
“But we want to see Rockette!” Sunny protested.
Bless her. That would give Carson the excuse to make sure Long John was settled inside. “We’ll just visit for a minute,” he said.
So he followed Long John up the ramp, the girls eager behind them, Lily bringing up the rear. Once inside, he stood ready to help the older man into his chair, but it was obviously a move he’d made many times before and he did it smoothly.
The girls joyously patted big, gray-muzzled Rockette, who licked their faces and then flopped to the floor with a big doggy sigh that made them both giggle. They settled down beside the patient old dog, patting her head and marveling over her soft ears.
“Can I make you some coffee?” Carson asked Long John, moving toward the kitchen area, basically one wall of the cabin’s main room. He noticed a single bowl, glass and spoon in the dish drainer.
“Don’t touch the stuff, but thanks.” Long John had the remote in hand, flipping channels.
“You let us know if you need anything.” Carson turned to usher the girls out and realized that Lily wasn’t there. Sometime while he’d been getting Long John settled, she must have slipped away.
Sure enough, when they got outside, he saw her up the road, walking rapidly toward her cabin.
Which probably meant she didn’t want to socialize. Penny had said she was independent.
But he’d promised to reach out to her. He’d get his things unloaded and then pay a little visit, do an informal assessment of his quiet neighbor.
* * *