Snowfall on Haven Point

by RaeAnne Thayne

  He was obviously very dedicated to his job. That should be all the reminder she needed to ignore her growing attraction to him.

  She refused to be involved with another law enforcement officer. It was as simple as that.

  Some women had the fortitude to be married to LEOs or men in the military. They could handle the long shifts, the dark moods that could steal over them after a horrible day, the constant awareness of the danger they willingly walked into.

  Since Jason’s death, Andie had come to accept that she did not possess that necessary gene. If she ever married again—which was a very big and nebulous if, since she apparently couldn’t bring herself to even think about the dating world—she wanted a man who was safe, stable, steady.

  She could never let herself care about someone willing to risk his life and his future and all those he loved for a stranger who might not even want to be helped.

  Not that Marshall Bailey was asking her to care about him, she reminded herself. This particular mountain lion apparently was a solitary beast.

  “I’m also following a few leads into whoever did this to me,” Marshall said, interrupting her thoughts.

  She pulled the last segment of the tree out of the bag and set it into place. “You said Deputy Morales is working on the case for you?”

  “Yeah, as far as that goes. He’s not making much progress.”

  “That must be terribly frustrating.”

  “You could say that. It’s like the perp disappeared into thin air. Or jumped into Lake Haven.”

  “You don’t really suspect that, do you?”

  “No. He’s out there somewhere.” He finally slid into the recliner, setting the crutches next to him. “Several leads would indicate it’s someone who knows me. Someone close.”

  “Wow. That’s got to be tough. What sort of leads?” she asked, genuinely interested.

  “For one thing, he knew just what bait to dangle in front of me in order to lure me out to a deserted gas station parking lot. Every cop has that one case he can’t shake and mine is a missing mother of two named Jessica Foster. Not many people even remember the case, but whoever called me offered a lead, after all this time, and I jumped at it like catfish on stink bait.”

  “What other evidence would lead you in that direction?”

  “More like the lack of evidence. Your average criminal makes mistakes. It’s the nature of the game. They talk about what they did to the wrong people, they create an alibi that’s full of holes, they call attention to themselves. In this case, the fact that we can’t find anything substantive would lead me to believe he’s either lucky or knowledgeable.”

  “You’re leaning toward knowledgeable.”

  “Yeah. But you don’t want to hear this. I’m probably boring you to tears.”

  “Not at all,” she assured him. “Jason would often go over cases with me, at least the ones he could talk about. He used to tell me a pair of fresh eyes always offered a new perspective and I enjoyed being helpful. Once, he solved a string of jewelry store heists after following up on one of my suggestions. It was a great feeling, you know? One of the things I really miss about being married.”

  That wasn’t the only thing she missed about being married, of course. At the thought, a hollow, achy yearning shivered to life. She wanted a man to kiss her. Not just a man. This one. The surly, rumpled, sexy sheriff of Lake Haven County.

  Heat washed over her and she knew she must be blushing violently. She ducked her head, hoping he didn’t notice and inevitably start to wonder where her thoughts had drifted to spark such a fiery blush.

  She swallowed hard and plugged in the Christmas tree. The room immediately seemed brighter as the tree came to life.

  “Looks like everything lights up just the way it’s supposed to,” she managed. And by everything, she meant...everything.

  “Good to know,” he murmured. She flashed him a look, grateful he couldn’t possibly read her mind.

  She had to get out of here, now, before she did something completely foolish. “I guess my work here is done, then, at least for now. The kids and I will be back this afternoon. I’ll bring dinner, if that’s okay.”

  For an instant, he opened his mouth as if to protest but closed it again. “It’s not necessary, but I will do my best to accept your help graciously.”

  So he had been listening. She picked up her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

  “I look forward to seeing that,” she said with a smile.

  She walked out of the house, more than a little uneasy at the bubble of anticipation fizzing through her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “THIS IS GOING to be the best Christmas tree ever. Maybe even prettier than ours,” Will declared, his breath coming out in puffs that lingered in the cold as he carried the box of trimmings down the street.

  “No way. No tree is prettier than ours,” Chloe argued, their little dog, Sadie, trotting in front of her. “We have the best tree in town.”

  “It’s beautiful, but I’m not sure it’s the best,” Andie said mildly.

  Her daughter narrowed her gaze. “Why not? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing. I said it was beautiful, didn’t I? It’s just that everyone thinks his or her Christmas tree is the best one in town. They’re all beautiful in their own way. I’m sure Sheriff Bailey will love the tree you decorate for him.”

  She actually wasn’t sure of any such thing. He had only agreed to let them spread a little Christmas cheer because he didn’t want to disappoint the children. She just hoped his forbearance would last through the evening.

  Sadie sniffed at a mailbox, her little tail wagging like crazy. That was the other thing she hoped Marshall would be tolerant about. The children had begged to be allowed to bring Sadie along with them on their visit to Sheriff Bailey’s.

  “She can help us decorate the tree,” Chloe said. “Remember how much fun she had when we decorated our tree?”

  As Andie remembered it, the little dog had mostly enjoyed the excitement of the children. Sadie had thrived since they adopted her from the shelter.

  At first, Andie had worried the little Havachon would struggle with a couple of noisy children, since her previous home had been as the adored pet of an elderly woman who passed away with no relatives willing to take in the dog.

  Instead, Sadie had proved the sweetest of dogs, with the perfect temperament. She didn’t yip or snarl. She could calmly sit beside Chloe when she had to practice reading aloud, then play and wrestle with Will when called upon.

  They all adored her, after mere weeks of having her in their home, and the children wanted to take her everywhere. In this particular instance, Andie probably should have said no, but she hadn’t had the heart for it, especially since Sadie had been alone most of the day while Andie ran errands and had meetings with a couple of executives she worked with at Caine Tech.

  The dog needed exercise and company. Surely Marshall wouldn’t object too strenuously to an unexpected guest, would he?

  To give him a little warning, she texted him they were on the way along with her dog. He still hadn’t answered by the time they reached the stone house beside the river, so she knocked a couple of times before pushing open the door.

  “Marshall? Can we come in? It’s Andrea Montgomery.”

  “And Will and Chloe and our dog named Sadie,” her son sang out, and she couldn’t help but smile at this sweet boy with so much love to give.

  Silence met her greeting for just a minute before he answered. “Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding a little rough and sleepy. “I’m back here.”

  It was the kind of bedroom voice a man would use when he first rolled over in the morning. Hey, babe. Come over here.

  Her skin erupted in goose bumps and she was very grateful he was in another room
and couldn’t see them—not that he would be able to see many goose bumps beneath her coat.

  Sadie sniffed at everything, her tail wagging like crazy, as Andie led the way back to the den. They found him in the recliner, obviously just waking up from dozing. His dark, wavy hair was a bit messy, his eyes still blinking away sleep, and a mystery novel was spine-up on the arm of the chair.

  “Hi, Sheriff Bailey! Hi!” Will said. “We’re here to put the ornaments on your Christmas tree! Aren’t you so glad?”

  “So glad,” he murmured. Though she gave him a close look, Andie couldn’t detect a trace of sarcasm.

  “This is our dog, Sadie.” Will pointed to the animal in question. “She’s four years old, like me. Only, for a dog four years old is all growed up. She’s gonna help us decorate your tree.”

  “How generous of her.”

  “I know. And wait until you see all the snowflakes Chloe made. There’s, like, a billion of them.”

  “Not quite,” Chloe said quickly, as if she didn’t want to be arrested for colluding to deceive an officer of the law.

  “I’m glad it’s not a billion,” he said. “That kind of snowflake number would probably break your scissors, never mind your fingers.”

  Chloe offered up her shy smile at his gentle teasing, which Marshall seemed to take to heart.

  Will stood close to the sheriff and gazed down at his boot. “Does your leg hurt a lot today?” Will asked.

  “Every day it’s feeling better,” he said, which she wasn’t sure was completely the truth.

  “Will they have to cut it off?” Chloe asked. “My friend Janie said her grandpa had a sore that wouldn’t get better and they had to cut off his foot and now he has a fake one that he can pull on and off.”

  Marshall looked alarmed. “Nobody’s cutting anything off.”

  “Whew.” Will dramatically plopped onto the sofa in relief.

  The sheriff appeared to be more awake now. Andie supposed a subtle threat of amputation could do that to a man. He eyed the little dog, but Andie couldn’t tell if his expression was one of interest or annoyance.

  They were on borrowed time, she knew. He had said they could decorate the tree, but she knew he wasn’t looking forward to the activity and would probably use any excuse he could find to curtail it.

  “Kids, we have work to do. Let’s get to it, shall we? I’m sure Sheriff Bailey can’t wait to enjoy the results.”

  He gave her a steady look, that expressive eyebrow raised. What would it take to make the man laugh? She was far more curious about that than she ought to be.

  “I’ll go get the stepladder I saw in the hall closet,” she said.

  “Okay,” Chloe said. “But remember, you can only hang the top of the garland. We have to put on all the rest.”

  The children had insisted this was their idea, their project, and she wasn’t to take over. She hoped that was more a measure of their desire to do something nice on their own than an indication that she hovered too much.

  She found the small ladder—just right for decorating the top of the tree—and carried it back to the den, where she found Will holding the garland up for Marshall to admire.

  “It wasn’t that hard. I made one in preschool before, only that time my teacher helped me cut out the paper and use the glue. This time my mom did it.” Will glanced at her, then back at Marshall. “She uses a lot more glue than my teacher did. We had to glue and glue and glue.”

  Marshall shot her a curious look, probably wondering why she and her children were going to so much trouble to decorate a tree he likely wouldn’t even turn on after they left. Her reasons had far more to do with her children than him. That was what she told herself, anyway.

  “I’m climbing up the ladder,” she announced. “Once I get up there, hand me your garland.”

  She set the stepladder next to the tree and started up.

  “Careful,” Marshall said. “That ladder’s not the steadiest in the world.”

  Warmth spilled through her, sweet and comforting, though she knew it was ridiculous. He was probably more concerned about the ladder than her.

  “I’m fairly certain I’ll be okay. I’m only three feet off the ground,” she pointed out.

  “You never know,” he said. “What if an earthquake hits while you’re up there? You could still fall and crack your head open.”

  “Mom, be careful,” Chloe said, eyes wide.

  “I’m not going to fall,” she assured her daughter. “And there’s not going to be an earthquake. Isn’t that right, Sheriff Bailey?”

  “Probably not,” he admitted. Amusement sparked in his eyes, but he still didn’t smile. He caught her looking and the amusement slid away, replaced by something glittery that made her stomach jump, and she quickly turned her attention back to the paper loop garland.

  She stuck the end loop on the topmost branch of the tree, then began spiraling it carefully around the tree.

  When she glanced over again, Will had picked up Sadie and was holding her up for Marshall to admire.

  “Yes, she does look like a good dog,” he said, apparently in response to something Will had said. “I haven’t met every dog in town so I can’t say for sure, but I would guess she’s one of the best. How about that?”

  Will said something she couldn’t hear and Marshall’s mouth quirked a little. He looked inordinately handsome, even with the fading scrapes and bruises on his features—like some kind of sexy MMA fighter who had just won a tough round.

  Those nerves jumped in her stomach again. She seriously had to knock it off.

  “How’s this so far?” She directed the question to the room in general.

  Chloe, busy sorting her snowflake ornaments by size, looked up. “That’s good. I can do the rest, just like you showed me when we decorated our tree.”

  “Come and grab this end, then,” Andie said. “Will, you had better help. It’s a two-kid job, I think.”

  Her son unceremoniously dropped the little dog onto Marshall’s lap and headed toward the tree. The sheriff winced a little and repositioned the dog, though he didn’t seem inclined to set her back on the floor. Instead, he earned Sadie’s undying devotion by scratching her between the ears in that particular spot she loved.

  Andie pulled the stepladder away while her children worked together to hang the garland the final three feet to the ground. When they finished, it wasn’t designer-perfect and sagged on one side, but she thought it looked beautiful, especially because of the sincere effort behind it.

  “Great job,” she exclaimed. “Don’t you agree, Sheriff?”

  “Sure thing. I’ve never had a tree with such a nice garland.”

  She suspected he spoke truth, likely because he’d never had a tree with any garland.

  “Okay. Now can we hang the ornaments?” Will demanded.

  “Yes,” Andie answered. “But make sure you don’t only hang the snowflakes you made. Mix it up a little with some of the ornaments Wyn already had. They’re in those boxes by the tree.”

  “But we can do mostly snowflakes, right?” Chloe asked.

  “Ask Sheriff Bailey.”

  “Sheriff Bailey, can we do mostly snowflakes?”

  “I love snowflakes. And you know, you don’t have to call me Sheriff Bailey. You can call me Marsh or Marshall.”

  “Like Marshmallow?” Will said with a giggle.

  “Just like,” he said, and Andie wanted to roll her eyes. The man was about as similar to a marshmallow as this plastic Christmas tree was to a soaring Douglas fir.

  After she ascertained the children were carefully hanging the ornaments and weren’t likely to knock over the tree, she turned to Marshall.

  “If you’re here to keep an eye on things, I’ll go put your dessert in the oven, then.”

 
“What is it?” he asked, not bothering to hide his avid interest. She fought a smile at this further evidence of his sweet tooth.

  “Wait and see. Maybe you can identify it by the scents once it starts cooking.”

  “You won’t even give me a hint? That’s just cruel, to tease like that.”

  “Anticipation makes everything better. Haven’t you learned that lesson yet?”

  “Or sometimes just makes a guy ache with hunger.”

  Her heart rate kicked up a notch at his low words. They were talking about dessert, weren’t they? She hadn’t flirted with a man in a long time and felt completely out of her depth.

  She could only think it was a good thing she was heading to the kitchen, where she could think about sticking her head in the refrigerator for a minute.

  * * *

  ANTICIPATION MAKES EVERYTHING BETTER. Haven’t you learned that lesson yet?

  Marshall gave an inward groan at the question. It could make things better—or it could make him miserable. Right now, he was anticipating kissing Andrea Montgomery, but it didn’t make him feel at all better, simply because he knew it wasn’t likely to ever happen.

  He glanced up from his thoughts in time to see her children stealthily trying to move the stepladder to another area without attracting his attention.

  “Are you guys supposed to be using that?” he asked.

  Both children gave him guilty looks.

  “No,” Will finally admitted.

  “But we have to hang some of the ornaments higher or your tree will look funny,” Chloe protested. “I thought I could lift Will up and he could hang them, but he’s too heavy.”

  “Maybe I can lift you up,” Will suggested to his older sister.

  “Nobody needs to lift anybody,” Marsh said, reaching for his crutches. “I’m pretty tall and can probably reach the top.”

  “You have a broked leg, though,” Will reminded him, as if Marshall could forget for a second.

  “Yeah, but my arms are fine.”

  He maneuvered out of the chair, cursing the blasted crutches, then swung over to the tree. “What do you need me to do?”