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.
* * *
Lily heard the little girls’ voices from a distance behind her and practically ran up the steps of her cabin. She went inside and shut the door.
Pam’s husband and her twins. Seeing them had tugged her emotions in ways she didn’t expect. Especially those adorable, energetic little girls who were the image of their mother.
What a family Pam could have had...if only she’d survived.
But Lily needed to focus on the future rather than wallowing in regret. She needed to gather her strength and find out if Carson was, in fact, an abusive bully. The least she could do for Pam, since she couldn’t turn back the clock and change what had happened, was to check on her children and make sure they were okay.
They’d seemed more than okay, but appearances could be deceiving.
She went to the window and watched as the man and the little blonde twins carried things into the cabin next door.
Hearing the laughter of the children, punctuated by some booming laughs from him, made loneliness squeeze Lily’s stomach, but she straightened her back and drew in the deep, cleansing breath she’d learned about from her army therapist. She deserved to be lonely.
Because the father-daughter fun outside didn’t make up for what was missing from the picture: a mom. Beautiful, mysterious Pam, who hadn’t gotten to spend nearly enough time with her husband and kids in the years before her death.
Don’t dwell on what you can’t change. Lily looked away from the trio’s good spirits toward Long John’s cabin. She’d seen the undecorated Christmas tree, the single strand of lights around the porch railing, the pizza box beside the trash can. All of it spoke of a man alone, and Long John wasn’t in such good shape.
Having a trained medic—her—up here over the holidays, when the older man was likely to be cut off from his support system, might be a blessing. Something God had planned. It was another way Lily could make up for her past.
When she looked back at the little twins, they were building something out of rocks, possibly a house for the bright collection of toys on the ground. Normally, she didn’t understand kids—they were aliens to her. But these girls’ serious, intent faces made her smile. They were focused on fun, just as kids should be.
Fun. It wasn’t something she’d thought a lot about. No time. She’d joined the army at eighteen, gotten trained as a medic and then a combat photographer, done pretty well for a poor girl from a rough background. After that, college on the GI Bill at an accelerated pace.
Everyone told her to slow down, but she didn’t want to. Slowing down gave her the time to think.
It wasn’t until she heard the knock on the door that she realized the girls’ father was nowhere in sight.
As she went to answer a second knock, she glanced through the window.
Carson Blair stood on her front porch. Her heart thumped, and she inhaled a bracing breath. She’d wanted to investigate the man, to make sure he was treating Pam’s girls well.
It looked like the opportunity had just fallen into her lap.
Carson waited for the mysterious Lily to answer his knock, wondering at his own intense curiosity.
The pastor part of him had noticed the sad, distant look in her eyes. There was some kind of pain there, and it tugged at his heart. He’d try to establish at least an initial connection. There was plenty of time to do more probing, as Penny had requested, within the next few days.
He also wanted to get a better look at her, and honesty compelled him to ask himself why. Surely not because he found her attractive? He did, of course—he was human, and she was gorgeous—but gorgeous women were not for him. He wanted to marry again, if God willed it; his girls needed a mother, and his own work as a pastor would be enhanced if he had a wife ministering at his side. Not to mention how long and lonely winter evenings could be when you didn’t have a partner to talk to and love.
But this woman wasn’t a prospect.
The door jerked open. “Can I help you?” came a voice out of the cabin’s dimness. A voice that wasn’t exactly friendly.
“We didn’t have the chance to introduce ourselves. I’m Carson Blair. Just came by to say hello, since it looks like we’re going to be neighbors over the holiday.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Her voice didn’t sound pleased. “I’m Lily. What brings you to the ranch? Penny mentioned you live nearby.”
Her interrogation surprised him—in his counseling role, he needed to find out about her, not vice versa—and it made him feel oddly defensive. “My daughters and I are looking for a peaceful Christmas, away from our daily stresses and strains.”
“Your girls are stressed?” She came forward into the light, standing on the threshold. Her wheat-blond hair seemed to glow, and her high cheekbones and full lips were model-pretty.
So were her big, slate-colored eyes. Eyes that glared, almost like she had it in for him.
He took a breath and reminded himself of that old counseling cliché: hurt people hurt people. “I guess it’s just me that’s stressed,” he admitted, keeping his tone easy and relaxed. “Busy time of year for a pastor. But the girls are thrilled to be up here with Long John and the dogs.”
Her face softened a little. “It is nice up СКАЧАТЬ