The Deputy's Holiday Family. Mindy Obenhaus

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СКАЧАТЬ Ouray and married his high school sweetheart. Now they were stuck with him.

      “Christmas decorations? It’s not even Thanksgiving yet.”

      Andrew snagged another fry. “True, but we’ve got guests booked for this weekend, so the bed-and-breakfast portion of the house needs to be ready before then.” His gaze drifted to Matt’s plate. “Something wrong with your burger? You haven’t touched it.”

      “Guess I’m not very hungry.”

      His cell buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see Gladys Bricker’s name on the screen. His favorite teacher must be baking again, because that was the only reason she ever called. A fiercely independent gal, Gladys had never married, but considered many of her former students her children. Himself included.

      “Hello, Gladys.”

      “Oh, Matt, I hate to bother you.”

      Something in the eighty-one-year-old woman’s voice wasn’t quite right. “Gladys, you are never a bother. What can I do for you?”

      “I’m afraid I need some wood brought in. It’s already cut, but I just can’t seem to make it outside to get it.” His unease rose. That was definitely not like Gladys.

      He stood. “Not to worry. I’m on my way.” He ended the call. “Looks like your timing is perfect, bro.” He slid his plate toward Andrew. “Duty calls.”

      His older brother reached for the burger. “I’ll get the tab.”

      “You do that,” said Matt as he made his way out the door into the brisk midday air. Honestly, he was grateful for Gladys’s call. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for a lengthy conversation with Andrew today. However, he was worried about the older woman.

      He slid behind the wheel of his Tahoe and headed north, continuing outside of town. Gladys had always been faithful in keeping in touch with him over the years. He still had all the letters she’d sent him while he was in the navy.

      A few minutes later, he pulled into her drive, gravel crunching beneath his tires. Exiting the vehicle, he spotted the large pile of wood near the barn at the back of the property. He made his way there first and filled his arms before heading to the small, white, single-story house with green trim.

      He tugged open the screen door and knocked. “Gladys? It’s Matt.”

      His anxiety heightened as the seconds dragged on. Reaching for the knob, he gave it a twist and inched the door open. “Gladys?”

      “In—” coughing echoed from the living room that sat at the opposite end of the kitchen “—in here.”

      He continued into the house, moving through the compact yet tidy kitchen and into the chilly living room. There, on the other side of the room, in front of the big picture window, the elderly woman lay in her recliner, buried under a stack of blankets, her short gray hair sticking up every which way. She looked frailer than he’d ever imagined.

      Crossing to the wood-burning stove in the corner of the room, he dropped the wood before touching a hand to the side of the stove. “This thing is stone-cold.” He opened the door to see only ashes in the bottom.

      He twisted around. “What’s going on, Gladys? Why don’t you have a fire going?”

      Her face was pale, but she sent him weak smile. “I ran out of wood.”

      This wasn’t good. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”

      “Just a little cold.” One wrinkled hand clasped the blankets to her chest while the other held tightly to a handkerchief she used to cover her mouth when she coughed.

      A few quick strides put him at her side. He touched her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

      “Am I?” Clouded blue eyes met his. “Feels pretty chilly to me.”

      He knelt beside her. “Have you been to see the doctor?”

      “No.”

      He knew what he had to do, but Gladys wasn’t going to like it. The best thing he could do was to make her a little more comfortable before bringing up the ambulance. A few more minutes wouldn’t make that much difference.

      “Okay, let me get this fire started.” Back at the stove, he removed the ashes before adding a starter stick from the box he spotted on the shelf and a couple of thin logs.

      After closing the doors, he went into the kitchen and set the four-cup coffeepot to brew. Probably not the best thing, but she needed something warm. A few minutes later, he filled an old green coffee cup halfway and took it to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

      “Thank you, Matt. You’re a good boy.”

      No, a good boy would have checked on her more often.

      After adding another log to the firebox, he pulled up a chair and sat beside her. “I wish you had called me earlier.”

      “I know. But I—”

      “Hate to bother me, I know.” Resting his forearms on his thighs, he leaned closer. “Gladys, I need to call an ambulance.”

      Her eyes widened slightly as she passed him her cup.

      “I’m afraid you have more than just a cold and I want the EMTs to come and check you out.”

      “Can’t I just go to the doctor?” She coughed.

      “And how are you going to get there? You’re in no condition to drive yourself.” Any other time he’d take her himself, but since he was the only deputy on duty... Besides, she’d likely be going to the hospital in Montrose anyway.

      Her thin lips pursed as she turned her gaze to the conifer-dotted landscape outside the window. “If you think that would be best.”

      He laid a hand atop hers. “I do. I want you to get better.”

      He made the call, then monitored the fire and paced the beige carpet as he waited for the EMTs to arrive.

      “When did you do this?” He pointed to two photos, one color, the other black-and-white, encased in a single frame on the wall near the opening to the kitchen.

      “About a month ago. That’s my first graduating class—” more coughing “—and my last graduating class.” Forty years of teaching. Definitely impressive.

      “Hey, there’s me.” He pointed to the newer photo.

      “Bring it over here, please.”

      He lifted the frame and took it to her.

      She smiled as she touched the glass. “You and your brothers all had your father’s dark eyes.”

      “Except Daniel,” he said. The baby of the family was the polar opposite with his blond hair and blue eyes.

      “Oh, yes. He took after your mother. But the rest of you... Anyone could tell you were a Stephens.”

      His СКАЧАТЬ