Dad for Charlie & the Sergeant's Temptation & the Alaskan Catch & New Year's Wedding (9781488015687)

by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel

  “I think I heard something about it.” Paige nodded. “You definitely left an impression, kiddo. Now, how about you go get dressed and we’ll head over to Calliope’s?”

  * * *

  “SORRY WE’RE LATE!” The car door creaked as Paige climbed out, her feet hitting the gravel drive of Duskywing Farm with enough force to send a plume of dust up over her sneakers. The days that began with her delivering fresh produce purchased from Calliope’s farm to homes and businesses always seemed to hold the most promise. “Calliope? Oh.” She stumbled. “Fletch. What are you doing here?” It was too early to deal with Fletcher. Especially with him in that eye-catching uniform.

  “Good morning to you, too.” If he took offense to her abrupt question, he didn’t show it. Seeing him back in uniform might just be the reminder she needed. Law enforcement. Danger. “Calliope called. Said she thought maybe someone had gotten into her supply shed overnight.”

  “Oh.” Paige reached out and tugged Charlie close. “I hope there wasn’t any damage.”

  Calliope Jones popped up out of her extensive vegetable patch, her turquoise-and-lavender flowing skirt and blouse swirling against her and the morning breeze. Long red hair tipped with braids, beads and an occasional tiny bell whipped around her shoulders as she waved. She retrieved her full basket and walked out to greet them, stopping at the edge of the gravel path.

  Bare feet and gravel definitely did not mix. “I should be able to get all the deliveries in before I head to the diner.” Paige took Charlie’s hand as they walked toward one of the more mysterious and intriguing characters Butterfly Harbor had to offer. Being around Calliope Jones was a bit like reading an ancient mystery: informative, interesting and completely unpredictable. Those filters most people had? Yeah, Calliope didn’t seem to possess any of those.

  “I only have three customers on the list for today,” Calliope said in that musical lilt of hers. “I’m not worried.”

  Paige wasn’t sure what a worried Calliope would look like. “If you have the boxes ready to go, I can load them in the car…” Paige stopped short when she saw the unfamiliar expression of uncertainty on Calliope’s pale, freckled face. “Is something wrong?”

  “Wrong? No.” Calliope shook her head and set her hair to jingling. “I understand you’ve been working with Deputy Fletcher recently. Something to do with Jasper O’Neill?”

  “Um.” Paige glanced down at Charlie, who was tugging her arm out of Paige’s socket as she reached her hand out for one of the hundreds of monarch butterflies flitting about the property. It didn’t seem to matter the season, the butterflies could always be found at Duskywing Farm.

  Calliope, never one who needed a spelled-out explanation, pulled Charlie’s hand free and pointed far into the distance. “There are some friends waiting for you out there.” She bent down, kept her voice low and, after she reached into her pocket, withdrew a small silver locket. “Give me your hand, little one.”

  Charlie’s eyes went wide as she did as she was asked.

  “It contains a mixture of mineral oil and milkweed,” Calliope said as if to ease Paige’s mind. Not that Paige was ever worried about Charlie around the woman. She had one of the most soothing, calming effects on people; it almost felt like a meditation session to come to the farm. “You just sit or stand very, very still and hold this out in your hand.” She closed Charlie’s fingers around the amulet. “They’ll come to you. Go on.” Calliope patted her on the back and pressed her forward. “It’s not everyone whose connection I can feel, Charlie. But yours is a strong spirit. The butterflies will always lead you where you’re meant to go. Now go on. Your mom will call for you when she’s ready to leave.”

  “You don’t need my help?” Charlie asked even as excitement twinkled in her eyes.

  The last thing Paige was about to do was wipe that happiness off her daughter’s face. “Calliope and I can manage. Go play for a few minutes.”

  “Ah, Stella,” Calliope said without turning around. “Perfect timing as always.”

  Calliope’s sister, only a few years older than Charlie, emerged from the house, her own bright red hair tied back at her neck, the green of her dress making the emerald of her eyes sparkle like clover in the Irish mountains.

  “Hi, Paige.” The young girl’s face broke into a wide smile as she walked over, as barefoot as her sister.

  “Would you mind keeping an eye on Charlie, poppet?” Calliope smoothed a hand down her sister’s hair. “I need to show her mom and Fletcher something.”

  “Sure. Hey, Charlie!” Stella called as she raced down the narrow path dividing exploding bundles of kale and spinach.

  “I thought you had your meeting with the mayor this morning,” Paige said to Fletch as they followed Calliope through the narrow rows of the garden.

  “Not until ten.” Fletch glanced at his watch. “Still trying to figure out exactly what I’m going to tell him.”

  “How about the truth? That there’s no evidence to support the idea Jasper O’Neill is in any way responsible for the vandalism and that we believe he’s actually been investigating the crime.”

  “Might be hard to sell without actually having spoken to Jasper.” Fletch shook his head, lowered his voice. “I’ll come up with something. Don’t worry. I’m not going to throw the kid under the bus.”

  Paige’s jean-encased legs brushed through the greenery of the garden—not an accurate description given the expansive acreage billowing over with everything from broccoli to turnips to…well, if it grew in the ground, Calliope worked her magic on it. If Paige took the time to listen, she was sure she could hear Mother Nature herself carefully tilling and tending the soil.

  “I don’t believe whoever was here meant any harm,” Calliope said as they joined her at the sizable wooden shed. “I don’t keep it locked, and everyone knows I’m happy to share what I have. But I was a bit concerned when I came in this morning and found this.” She pulled open the slat door and stepped back. “Fletcher.”

  Fletch stepped inside, followed by Paige, who felt as if she was getting a glimpse behind the scenes at an amusement park. Baskets and bushels of containers were filled with various garden offerings, the vibrant colors exploding in the dim light of the storage shed. The gardening tools—simple as they were—hung organized and stored on hooks on the far wall. Other than a push-and-cut lawn mower, there was nothing resembling machinery here. Everything Calliope did was by hand, from planting to tending to cultivating. She even used homemade baskets for storage and collecting.

  Fletch stooped down in the center of the shed, picked up the bloodied bandage and held it toward a beam of light streaming through a knothole. “What did he take?”

  “I don’t believe that matters,” Calliope said. “But I’m certain Jasper thought himself desperate. Clearly he is injured.”

  “Why do you say it was Jasper?” Paige asked before Fletcher could.

  Calliope inclined her head. “I might not venture into town often, but word gets around. People were talking at the wedding. It’s not in him to be destructive,” she said with more candor than Paige might have expected. “He has a calm mind. A curious one. And a generous heart. Despite what others might think.”

  “You sound like Willa.” Fletch circled the shed, but Paige couldn’t figure what he was looking for.

  “I speak from experience. He’s helped me at planting season the last few years,” Calliope offered. “And while I don’t like the idea of getting him into trouble, I don’t want him ignoring whatever injury he might have.” She turned to Paige with that knowing expression that had Paige squirming in her sneakers. “He needs a healer. And an advocate.” Her attention turned back to Fletcher. “You don’t need to sacrifice one person for another, Fletcher. And you, Paige, have neglected your gifts long enough. It’s time to trust your heart. Something for both of you to keep in mind as you fo
llow the trail. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go finish getting the orders ready. I’ll see you back at your car, Paige.”

  “Um, sure, yeah, okay.” Paige stepped out of the shed as Calliope all but glided away through her garden. “You ever get the feeling she’s not exactly…”

  “Living on the same plane of existence as the rest of us?” Fletcher finished for her. “Every time I have a conversation with her. But she’s not wrong about him being hurt. Or about the path. He’s bleeding again.” He handed her the fabric, and sure enough, she saw the darkening red splotches on the makeshift bandage. “How many days can he go like this before it’s bad?”

  “Honestly?” Paige’s pulse hammered in her throat. “I’d say it’s already bad.” She looked down at the ground and saw dark splotches. “Do you think she’s right? Can we follow that to him?”

  “Only one way to find out. Two pairs of eyes should help. This way.”

  “Wait.” Paige held up her hand. “I’ll be right back.” She ran back to her car, careful not to trample anything in the garden—a feat unto itself. She dug around for the first aid kit she kept in the trunk of her car. “Just in case.”

  “Always prepared.” Fletch gave a nod of approval. “Good thinking.”

  She followed Fletch to the fence line. The path Paige saw on the other side was one that had been worn in, not one that had been carved out. Made for an easier—if not camouflaged—getaway. “There.” Fletch pointed to a spot of red on a glistening leaf as they passed. “Yeah, this way.” He reached back for her hand, and only after a moment of hesitation did Paige take it. “Careful where you step. The light’s not great.”

  “I’m good.” Not that she’d spent any time in the great outdoors. One of the activities she and Charlie had embraced on their cross-country drive had been exploring various national parks and hiking trails. She lost track of time as the trees and shrubbery swallowed them up. Whatever noise might have accompanied Paige to the farm dispersed among the rustling of branches and the utter, calming silence. She smelled damp earth, molting leaves, oddly fresh and thrilling as she focused on every breath she took. The occasional broken limb caught Fletch’s attention, his hand tightening around hers as they rounded a large redwood and stopped.

  “What?” Paige didn’t know why she was whispering. “What is it?”

  “Do you smell that?” Fletch tilted his head back, sniffed the air. “Burning wood.”

  “I love that smell.” She inhaled deeply, caught something else. “Is that onions?”

  “Our smarty-pants fugitive knows how to cook outdoors. He put those books to good use. Come on. Quiet. We don’t want to spook him.”

  The deeper they went, the stronger the aroma of fire and roasting food became. When they broke into the small clearing, the first thing that crossed Paige’s mind was thank goodness Jasper was a smart kid. The campfire he’d built was in a cleared area, surrounded by rocks, as if he’d realized how dangerous it could be given the current drought in most areas of California.

  But whatever fire he’d started, he wasn’t tending to it now. As Fletcher dropped his hand, Paige looked past him and saw that Jasper was lying on top of a worn sleeping bag, his body shaking and trembling to the point of convulsing. “Jasper,” Paige whispered.

  Fletch reached him first. Jasper’s dark eyes opened as Fletch rolled him onto his back, but as Paige dropped down beside them she could see the teen’s eyes were glassy. She pressed her hand against Jasper’s forehead, sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth. “He’s burning up.” She looked down at Jasper’s blood-soaked leg, setting the first aid kit on the boy’s stomach. She dug her fingers into the torn fabric and ripped it apart, exposing his attempt at trying to stop the bleeding. The soaked bandage was stuck to his skin.

  She spotted a bottle of water by his head and reached for it, emptying it over the bandage so she could ease it off. She bent over to examine his leg that looked angry, raw. Infected. “Those nails on the two-by-four must have caught him. Hold him down, Fletch. By his shoulders,” she ordered as she cracked open the kit she’d made for herself and pulled out the travel bottle of alcohol. When she poured it over the wound, Jasper jerked, let out a cry that she’d heard all too often on her ER training rotations. “I’m sorry, Jasper. That was just the start. The wound’s infected. See how it’s turning dark purple here?” She ran her fingers down his leg, shoved off his shoe and sock to feel for a pulse in his foot. “We need to get him to a hospital. He’s developed a blood clot.”

  “An ambulance isn’t going to be able to—”

  “No, it’s not. You’ll have to take him when I’m done. You have a knife or something on that deputy tool belt of yours?”

  “I was a Boy Scout.” Fletcher released Jasper long enough to pull out a Swiss army knife. “Surprised?”

  “Not even a little.” She appreciated him trying to keep his sense of humor, especially as this next bout wasn’t going to be remotely funny. She pulled open the largest blade, set it on the edge of the rocks to heat up as she arranged the padded gauze and medical tape so she could get a hold of it quickly when she needed it. “He’s going to buck.” She waved the blade deep into the flame until she felt her fingers singe. “I need you to keep him as still as you can. Use all your weight if you need to. You understand?”

  “Yep.” Fletch braced his hands on the boy’s shoulders, planted his knee on Jasper’s uninjured thigh. “Do what you need to. I’ve got you covered.”

  Paige took a deep breath, held the knife in her palm securely, but not too tightly. “Here we go.” She sliced the wound open, increasing the pressure around the blackening skin. Blood poured out, sprayed over her jeans and shirt. Jasper groaned and tried to jerk away from her. Fletch held on, kept him still.

  Paige eased the heated blade against the raw edges in an effort to cauterize as much as possible. Even as the blood continued to pool under his leg, she could see the purple skin begin to ease and relax. She held the bandage tight and secured it by tape, then added a second layer to be safe.

  “Okay, that’s as good as I can do for now. You need to get him to the hospital.” She leaned back and scrubbed her hands into the dirt to get as much blood off as she could, tossing handfuls into the fire to douse the flames. “Now, Fletch. He could lose the leg.”

  “How long do you think he’s been like this?” Fletch sat Jasper up and hefted him up and over his shoulder.

  “Twelve, maybe twenty-four hours. He had to have been in a lot of pain to make it to Calliope’s, but he could have done it last night if he was determined enough.”

  “Good to know. You coming?”

  “I’m going to get his stuff together. You go. You don’t need me muddying the waters when you talk to the doctors. Just tell them about the rusty nails from the wood and what we think happened. He’ll need a tetanus shot and they’ll have to watch for sepsis.” She closed his knife, stuck it in her back pocket as he situated Jasper over his shoulder. “Call me at the diner when you know something.”

  “Yeah. You did good, Paige. And you were wrong last night.” He headed into the trees. “You might not have made a great doctor, but you make one hell of a nurse.”

  * * *

  “YOU PICKED A darned good day to be late, Missy.” Ursula zoomed out from behind the counter looking as frazzled and haggard as Paige had ever seen her. “We’ve got ourselves a full house and…” She stopped, her tiny eyes going wide as she took in Paige covered in blood, dirt and sweat. “What on earth happened to you? You’re not hurt, are you? You’re covered in blood! Land’s sake girl, you better sit down—”

  “I’m fine.” Paige glanced around the diner as the place went silent. So many familiar faces painted with vivid curiosity, including Gil Hamilton as he got to his feet, abandoning the trio of middle-aged men he was meeting with. “It’s not my blood!” She looked down at her hands, th
en at her daughter, who looked so proud she could burst. Whatever energy had propelled her into cleaning up Jasper’s campsite before making the drive back to town drained. “I just stopped in to tell you I’d be late. I could do with some coffee, though, before I clean up.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Paige, what’s going on?” The concern in Gil’s voice caught her completely off guard. “Are you really all right?”

  “Mom just saved Jasper O’Neill’s life!” Charlie announced. “Deputy Fletcher told me before he took him to the hospital.”

  “I need to go upstairs,” Paige said. “Please, let’s not make a big deal out of this. I hate being late. I didn’t realize just how bad…” She waved a hand down the front of herself. “I must look a fright.”

  “You look like an extra from that zombie TV show all the kids love,” Harvey Mills announced from his seat at the counter. “Charlie, why don’t you come keep me company while your mom takes care of herself.”

  “Thank you, Harvey. We’ll get your orders to you as soon as we can,” Paige called to the customers.

  “Never you mind them,” Ursula said loud enough to have everyone from Oscar and Harold from the Cocoon Club to the town’s new attorney, Leah Ellis, nodding in agreement.

  The latter got to her feet and rounded the counter. “I used to waitress while I was in law school. I can lend a hand.” She plucked the notepad out of Ursula’s hand and waved them into the kitchen. “Go ahead. I can figure this out. And if I can’t, Charlie can help, right?”

  “Right!” Charlie nodded.

  “Come back in here, missy.” Ursula pushed her out of sight, making that tsking sound in her throat as Gil followed. The second Paige got her hands under the warm water, she felt as if she could breathe again. She’d forgotten how hard it was to get blood off her fingers. “Gil, don’t you go bothering her.”

  “It’s okay, Ursula.” Paige had never seen the woman get so protective before. “I’d be more worried about Jasper right now. His leg’s in bad shape.” She avoided Ursula’s inquisitive and oddly knowing gaze. “I don’t think Fletch is going to make your meeting, Gil. Knowing him, he’s going to stick close to the hospital until he’s sure Jasper’s okay. Willa.” Paige gasped. “I need to call and tell her—”