High Country Christmas. Cynthia Thomason

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      “You should not be drinking coffee.”

      “Maybe you should have told me that three years ago.”

      “And another thing...” Ava said. “You are not going out into this weather again tonight. It’s supposed to go into the thirties. Is that hoodie all the protection you have?”

      For the first time Taylor pushed the hood from her head, revealing dark blond hair hurriedly tamed into a messy single braid. Her hair was dirty with strands falling over her face. “I’ll find a place to sleep,” she said.

      Ava poured herself a cup of coffee and refused the request to fill a second cup for her intruder. She sat across from Taylor and sipped her coffee. “Do you even know where you are? Do you know what this place is?”

      “Some kind of orphanage, right?”

      “We don’t use that word so much these days,” Ava said. “But yes, this is a children’s home. Some of our kids don’t have parents. Some are estranged from their families. Children come here for all sorts of reasons.”

      Taylor gave her a curious stare. “Don’t get any ideas about me. I didn’t come here for anything but food. The truck driver who gave me a ride from Boone pointed this place out when he dropped me off, said I could probably find a free meal. That’s all I came for.”

      “And that’s all I’ve offered you, isn’t it?” Ava said, grateful that the truck driver had pointed this girl to a place of safety.

      “Well, yeah.” Taylor layered egg and bacon on half a piece of toast and shoved the whole thing in her mouth.

      “There is one thing we tend to ask anyone who might be interested in staying here...”

      “I’m not interested.”

      “Right. I know, but indulge me. Where are you supposed to be? Where are your parents?”

      “Beats me. As for where I’m supposed to be, that’s really just my business.” She placed her fork and knife on her plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Thanks for the meal. It was more than I thought I’d get. I figured I’d end up scarfing down some lettuce and carrots from your fridge, but this was way better.” She yawned, rubbed her hand across her forehead. “Guess I’ll be going now.”

      “Planning to hitch another ride, are you?”

      “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

      Ava gave her an indulgent smile. “You do know you’re not leaving here, don’t you?” she said. “My work here is all about taking care of kids, keeping them safe in a smooth-running facility. What would it say about my ability to do my job if I let you go back out into the cold tonight to beg a ride from another stranger?”

      Taylor pulled up her hood and stood. “You’ve got plenty of other kids to take care of, lady. You don’t need to make a project of me. I can take care of myself.”

      Noticing a backpack near the fridge, Ava said, “What’s in the pack, your worldly belongings?”

      “Stuff. Nothing important.” She reached for the backpack. “See ya.”

      Ava cradled the coffee cup in her two hands. “Suit yourself, Taylor Grande, but here’s how I see your situation. You’re exhausted. And in seconds you’ll be cold through to the bone. You don’t really smell like a flower garden. In a few hours you’ll be hungry again. I can take care of those conditions for you. I might even be able to get you some clean clothes before you leave.”

      Taylor swung the pack over her shoulder. “I’ve got clothes, but thanks.”

      “Think about this, Taylor,” Ava said. “You give me the army knife until the morning in exchange for a bed on my couch tonight and tomorrow we’ll reevaluate your situation. If you still want to leave, so be it.”

      “You won’t try to keep me here against my will? I’ve heard stories...”

      Ava sighed. “We’re not in the business of hostage taking. Look, you’ve got to trust somebody, Taylor. You can trust me or the next truck driver who picks you up. For tonight at least, I’m suggesting you trust me.”

      After what seemed like unending minutes, Taylor said, “Okay. I’ll stay. But just till tomorrow.”

      Ava tried not to look overly grateful at Taylor’s decision. “As I said, we’ll reevaluate.”

      Ava picked up the dishes, stacked them in the sink. “One more thing...” she said.

      “Yeah?”

      “While I’m making up your bed, you take a shower.”

      Taylor sniffed the sleeve of her jacket. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

      * * *

      ONCE TAYLOR LAY on the couch, she was asleep in less than a minute. Ava thought about calling her brother Carter. He was chief of police in Holly River, and he would know if any missing kids had come up on his radar. But it was the middle of the night. Carter was at home in bed. And she’d sort of given Taylor her word that nothing would be done about her situation until the morning. Besides, morning would arrive soon enough.

      Ava turned on the heat in her apartment and crawled between her covers. She might get two or three hours’ sleep if she was lucky. She fell into a restless slumber with her bedroom door open. Taylor’s deep breathing comforted her. At least she’d done something for this child for tonight.

      The next morning Ava padded around her apartment, making coffee and getting dressed. Taylor was still fast asleep when Ava left to attend to chapel duties. She put a note on the kitchen table where Taylor couldn’t miss it. Taylor, do not leave. I will be back soon.

      During the church service, Ava spoke with Helen Carmichael, one of the “cottage mothers” the school employed to help the children in her charge. Helen and her husband, Mark, were kind people, empty nesters who had sent their own children to college and wanted to lend a hand to others. They lived full-time in the cottage assigned to them for two weeks, and then another couple took over. Each couple only worked two weeks. Managing a home with ten children, even with extra staff to help, was a serious and often painstaking responsibility.

      “Helen, you currently have only nine children in your cottage, is that right?” Ava asked.

      “That’s true. Have you received word that another child is coming?”

      “Not exactly, but maybe so.” The Sawtooth Children’s Home, named for the mountain and the oak trees nearby, had such an excellent reputation that kids from all over North Carolina came to stay there. Often there was a waiting list. “There is one young girl,” Ava said. “I think she’s around fourteen.”

      “That would be fine,” Helen said. “We’ve got six under ten and three over ten. Becky Miller is fifteen and she has a vacancy in her room.”

      With that knowledge, Ava went back to her office, checked to see that Taylor was still sleeping and called Carter.

      “What’s up, Ava? Everything okay over there?”

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