The Lawman's Yuletide Baby. Ruth Herne Logan

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СКАЧАТЬ and beloved parent to kids. “I’d say you’re doing great, Corinne.”

      “Well. Thank you.” She took the compliment lightly. Maybe too lightly. “It’s too early to start the grill, but if you call me from the truck, I’ll have it heated up when you guys get back.”

      “Sounds good.” He touched a long-nosed lighter to the kindling in the fire pit, waiting for the first flickers of success. “If you ever need anything...” He waited until she looked up, and when she did, there it was again. A tiny spark of connection when his eyes met hers. “Call me, okay? I’m right over there, and I’m happy to help.”

      “That’s a really nice offer.” Sincerity deepened her tone, while her expression stayed matter-of-fact. “The Penskis were gone a lot, so I’d only seen them twice since we moved in last year. And when the weather turns, it’s kind of desolate down here. Like Tee said, most folks use these as summer homes, so there aren’t too many neighbors during the winter. It will be nice to have you nearby.”

      He puffed on the kindling until a curl of smoke burst into tiny licks of flame. “I saw that little park at the end of the road by the turnoff. It’s got a small baseball field.”

      “A relic from times past, when neighborhoods got together to play ball. That’s Welch Grove Park.”

      “It’s quiet and I can practice ball with the kids there whenever they’re available.”

      “I played ball on that field when I was a girl.” She tapped the grill as if tapping home plate and took a batter’s stance.

      “You lived here?”

      “Off and on, with my grandparents.”

      She didn’t elaborate and it wasn’t his business to delve, but why hadn’t she been with her parents?

      Not his business, so he kept to baseball. “They had softball there?”

      “Hardball.”

      She’d surprised him again. “You played hardball?”

      “Seven years. When I got to high school girls could only play softball, and that’s a whole other game.” She moved a chair that didn’t need moving and shrugged. “I moved on to other things. That’s why I loved seeing Amy make the team when Drew Slade came back to town. A girl with that kind of talent shouldn’t be relegated to a minimal role in anything.”

      “If you’re good enough, you play.” It made sense to him, regardless of gender.

      “That’s something you and I can agree on.” She didn’t mention the festival controversy per se, but he understood the meaning behind the words.

      “Gabe.” Mack called his name from across the yards. “We need to know how you want some of the things set up.”

      “Coming.” He tipped his ball cap slightly. “One more load to get, and that should do it on our end. I’ll be happy to man the grill when we get back.”

      “I am delighted to accept the offer.”

      “Good.”

      He jogged back to his place.

      He’d hurried over there to clear the air over Thursday’s meeting. She’d lost an important battle, one that meant she’d be facing angry vendors at the upcoming holiday festival. The out-of-town vendors had paid a significant fee to contract their space on the grounds of the historic Gallagher farm at the edge of town. They weren’t expecting to have local buses transporting their shoppers downtown every fifteen minutes. There would be backlash, mostly directed at Corinne because she headed the committee. It wasn’t her fault, and he felt bad about that. He’d sided with the local businesses from a practical angle. Putting Corinne in the crosshairs hadn’t been the intention, but it was a probable outcome.

      Would she hold a grudge?

      He hoped not, but her guarded nature didn’t make her an easy read.

      “Coach, I can’t wait for you to see how many fish there are in the lake! Grandpa showed me so many hot spots, it’s amazing! Do you like perch and bass?” Tee grabbed his hand in an excited grip as he crossed the yard.

      He loved both. He nodded as the old weight redescended.

      “Then maybe we can go fishing sometime together,” Tee exclaimed. “I can ask Mom, I bet she won’t mind, and I won’t be noisy. I know not to be noisy on the boat, because Grandpa threatened to toss me overboard if I scared the fish. And I love eating fish, so why would I scare them?”

      She talked at light speed, like Gracie had.

      Her hands danced in the air, alive with excitement.

      Her eyes so blue.

      Gracie’s had been a lighter shade of blue, tinged green, but with that same kind of sparkle and joy.

      Gone.

      His heart choked.

      So did his voice, because he couldn’t form a word around the massive lump clogging his throat.

      He’d thought it would get better in time, and it had, but when he was around Tee Gallagher and her crew of funny, adolescent girlfriends, all he could think of was how sweetly Gracie would have fit into their crowd. Laughing, dancing, climbing...

      “Come with me.” Susie MacIntosh thrust her arm through his and propelled him into the house. “Focus on the simple and the mundane.”

      Susie had known him all those years ago, years before they both moved upstate to Grace Haven.

      “You’ve got to forgive yourself, Gabe. God doesn’t want you to spend your life beating yourself up. He wants you whole and happy again.”

      Susie’s opinion was similar to the reverend’s talk last Sunday.

      And maybe it would have worked out that way, if Elise had been okay. But she wasn’t all right, ever again. Then she was gone, too.

      “We make choices, Gabe. All of us. You, me, Mack. Elise.”

      He couldn’t listen to this, because there was no way he could lay any of this on Elise. He’d left the door of the SUV slightly open. He must have. He was the last person in it. He’d pulled into his buddy’s driveway and parked. Then he’d gotten Gracie out of her car seat and walked into the broad backyard of Jim Clayton, another state trooper.

      He was the designated driver, so he grabbed some cold iced tea and talked NFL prospects, waiting for the four o’clock kickoff in Jim’s man cave–style barn toward the back of the property.

      And then came the scream.

      Nine years later, he still heard the scream.

      Elise’s voice, screaming his name, screaming for help, and Gracie Lynn, their beautiful little girl, lying so still in the grueling heat of the SUV.

      Her death was ruled accidental, but he knew better. He was her father. She was his responsibility, and he’d failed her over football stats and arguments about team superiority. СКАЧАТЬ