High Country Holiday. Glynna Kaye

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СКАЧАТЬ He nodded an acknowledgment as he placed the wreaths back in the truck bed, his heart beating faster at this unexpected chance to speak with her.

      “I’m sorry to bother you, but I got a call earlier this morning about your mother.”

      He frowned. “My ma? Is something wrong?”

      “I’m hoping not.” She clasped her gloved hands in front of her, her expression troubled. “It has to do with the annual Christmas gala. I’m the committee head this year.”

      He was more than familiar with the event, but managed not to grimace. It was a charity dinner and dance that had been a community tradition since long before Cody’s family had moved to Canyon Springs. It was for a good cause, of course. But he’d been mortified more than once when his father insisted he line up with other underprivileged children to receive a token toy or item of winter clothing as society’s elite looked on benevolently, proud as peacocks of their generosity toward the community’s needy.

      Needy. It was all he could do to keep his lip from curling at a word reminiscent of a poor Dickensian urchin timidly holding out a bowl for cold porridge. How he despised the image.

      He cleared his throat. “You’d mentioned yesterday that my mother is helping. She’s making a few decorations, right?”

      “More than a few, I’m afraid.” A tiny crease formed between Paris’s brows. “Some on the committee are concerned that, with your father’s illness demanding so much of her time, she won’t be able to fulfill her obligations.”

      “Exactly how many decorations has she agreed to make?” Dad might not always make good on promises, but no one would ever accuse his mother of that. Maybe, though, he should have asked permission before carting off to Dix’s the stash of wreaths he’d found in the shed? He’d thought he was doing her a favor.

      Paris slipped her hands into her jacket pockets. “Unfortunately, it’s more than that. She’s overseeing the decorating this year. The props. Christmas trees. Centerpieces. The works.”

      He gave a low whistle. “I’m surprised she took that on, but I doubt she’ll be able to do it now. She’s at the hospital almost around the clock and there’s no telling how long Dad will be there. I suggest you look elsewhere for a volunteer.”

      “That’s just it. She isn’t a volunteer.” Paris hesitated, as if reluctant to continue. “She’s been contracted for a design she submitted several months ago, and she received payment in advance for her time and materials.”

      Cody flinched. He hadn’t expected that. His mother must have needed the money badly. Why hadn’t she told him?

      “I can reimburse the committee, Paris. That’s no problem.”

      Or it wouldn’t be if things worked out as he and his business partner hoped.

      Paris offered a feeble smile. “That’s thoughtful of you, but the gala is three weeks from tonight, and I’ve been told nothing at the staging site has been touched in over a week. There’s always a last-minute scramble, but usually by this time things are coming together. A few committee members are concerned that she intended to have your father build the sets. And now...”

      Leroy Hawk volunteered to do something of that nature? No way. Ma must have had another plan.

      “If I reimburse the committee, can’t you get someone else to take over?”

      A flicker of irritation lit her eyes. “I’ll certainly do my best if it comes to that. I know I should talk to your mother directly, but when I saw you here...”

      With Dad’s situation demanding her every waking moment, Ma probably lost track of time. But he could tell this turn of events had unsettled Paris. The charity event was a huge responsibility on those young, slender shoulders.

      “Let me talk to her. And don’t worry about it, okay?” He met Paris’s gaze with a firm one intended to reassure. “I imagine she has everything under control, but hasn’t had time to update the committee.”

      “Thank you.” She tilted her head, the expression in her eyes conveying her gratitude—and reminiscent of the look she’d given him the day long ago when he’d flown to her aid on the playground. “Your mother has my cell phone number, but I can give it to you, too, so you can get in touch with me.”

      He pulled out his phone and punched in the numbers she recited, then gave her his. But as he watched her head off down the street, he knew this exchange would be far sweeter if she wasn’t married to Dalton Herrington.

      Back inside Dix’s, Sharon motioned for him to follow her to the rear of the store with his armload of wreaths. “I thought you’d fallen down a hole or something.”

      “No, no holes.” Except for the gaping one in his heart.

      Inside the storeroom, Sharon took one of the wreaths and placed it on an empty shelf. “How long will you be in town?”

      “I’m not sure.” He handed her another wreath. “Dad’s situation is uncertain and I can’t talk to his boss until Monday. But there’s plenty to keep me busy at my folks’ place in the meantime. Ma hadn’t said a word about it, but Dad’s let things go since I left.”

      “You know that I still check on her, don’t you? I make sure she’s doing all right.”

      “It’s good to know there are people I can count on to make sure Dad doesn’t get out of line.” Cody grimaced. “Pastor Kenton does the same. Ma and I communicate through occasional phone calls he arranges at the church office. It’s better for Ma that Dad not be aware of that.”

      “I figured you’d keep in touch with her. While life isn’t easy being married to your father, I feel certain Lucy hasn’t come to any physical harm. God’s kept watch.”

      “He has. But He’s had help from the sidelines, as well.” Cody placed the last wreath on a shelf. Confession time. “This isn’t something I’m proud of, but the night before I left town I told him if he ever laid a hand on Ma, I’d find out about it...and come back to kill him.”

      Startled eyes rose to his.

      He met her gaze without blinking. “I meant it, too, and he knew it.”

      Sharon offered a dry smile. “It sounds as if I have more to thank the good Lord for in regard to Lucy’s safekeeping—and your father’s—than I originally thought I did.”

      “Amen.” Cody cracked a smile of his own. “And I don’t use that word lightly.”

      She tilted her head in question.

      “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that my name is now recorded in God’s Book of Life.”

      “Well, I’ll be.” Before he could stop her, she reached up to loop her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a quick hug. “Happiest day of your mother’s life.”

      “And my old man’s luckiest.”

      Sharon chuckled. “You’ve always been a good boy, Cody. Deep down, I mean. You had some rocky years and I know things were rough what with your СКАЧАТЬ