by Karen Ball
To this life?
How could he—
“Daddy?”
He turned, schooling his features into some semblance of peace before he met his daughter’s eyes. “Hey, kiddo. I thought you were outside with your aunts.”
“I was. But Aunt Annie said she thought it was hard for you to leave. So I came to help.” She looked around, wrinkles forming a question mark on her brow as her hand went to the pendant at her neck. “There’s nothing here, Daddy.”
He followed his daughter’s gaze. “You’re right. And you know why?” He knelt beside her. “ ’Cuz everything that matters is going with me.”
“Can we go see our new home now?”
He touched his nose to hers, then stood and held out his hand. “You bet we can.” With her hand nestled in his, he led her from the room, his steps sure and solid.
If only his heart felt that way as well.
SIX
“Sometimes when you think you are done,
it is just the edge of beginning.”
NATALIE GOLDBERG
“The LORD longs to be gracious to you.”
ISAIAH 30:18 (NIV)
“YOU FEEL THAT?”
Dan turned to his son. “Feel what?”
Aaron sat as far forward on the seat as his seat belt would allow. “I’m not sure. I just got a kind of … charge, I guess. Excitement. Like we’re goin’ on a real adventure.”
“An adventure.” Dan mulled that over. “Yes, I guess you could say that. Starting a new life is definitely an adventure.”
“Look, Dad! That’s where we turn, right?”
It was, indeed. Dan turned the moving truck off the Crater Lake Highway, just opposite the Sanctuary Ranger Station. His sisters and Shannon followed him in Dan’s car. Just after turning off the highway, he came to a large, rustic sign at the side of the road.
The wooden sign hung from a frame of logs, and large letters were burned with artistic precision into the weatherworn marker. Aaron read out loud: “Welcome to Sanctuary, A Little Bit of Heaven on Earth.”
Dan looked at his son. “Sounds pretty good.”
Aaron glanced at the tall evergreens all around. “It’s sure not like Central Point or Medford.”
A pang of worry plucked at Dan’s innards. He drove on. “Does that bother you?”
“Nah.” Aaron grinned. “I was never that crazy about living in town anyway. Besides, I bet we get snow for Christmas up here!”
Relief brought a smile to Dan’s face. “I think you can count on that.” From what he’d heard, December usually brought as much as a foot of snow up here. All the years they’d lived in the Rogue Valley, Aaron and Shannon had prayed for snow at Christmas. Unfortunately, the white stuff rarely fell on the valley floor, so Christmas after Christmas they were disappointed. A few years there was actually a dusting on Christmas Eve, and both kids ran outside to scrape up what they could into snowballs. But a real snowfall? It just hadn’t happened.
There should be snow aplenty in Sanctuary. In fact, though it was late March and warm enough to be comfortable outside, there was still some on the ground now. So that would be a real treat for the kids. Dan planned to let them play outside as much as they wanted.
Anything to distract them from the pain of setting up a new home without their mom.
Aaron spotted another sign just on the outskirts of town. His chin dropped. “Is that right, Dad?”
“Hmm? Is what right?”
Aaron read the sign: “Sanctuary, population 659½.” Dan and Aaron stared at each other then broke into laughter.
“A half? Does that mean, like, half a person?”
Dan shook his head. “I suppose we’ll find out, son. Should be interesting.”
Within minutes, they reached downtown Sanctuary—such as it was. Rather than sidewalks, Sanctuary had old-fashioned wooden walkways. Dan wasn’t sure if that was for atmosphere or because they’d just never replaced the original sidewalks.
All along the walkways, in front of the few select businesses keeping the downtown alive, were rows of rocking chairs, most of which were in use by locals of all ages.
Dan drove through town slow enough to study the buildings lining the street. Continuing his role as tour guide, Aaron read off the business names as they passed them. “The Sanctuary Trophy Room …”
Dan smiled. The Trophy Room, so called because of the multitude of hunting trophies mounted on the walls, was the town’s one somewhat formal restaurant. He and the kids had eaten there once. Aaron thought it was cool; Shannon, on the other hand, couldn’t eat a bite. When Dan asked her why, she looked up, her lip trembling.
“I can’t eat in front of them!” She jerked her chin toward the animal heads looking down on them. “I mean, what if this hamburger is their … their cousin or something?”
Needless to say, it would take a little time to convince tenderhearted Shannon to go back there.
“The Sanctuary Beauty and Video Salon …”
Beauty and videos. A different kind of combination, but one that made infinite sense, or so Mabel Jones, the owner of the place, had told Dan on his first visit to town. “Who chooses the videos families watch? The mother. So she can kill two birds with one stone.”
“The Sanctuary Fire Station, Post Office, First Evangelical Church of the Savior’s Brethren, the Sanctuary Public Library …”
And on the list went. Dan looked forward to getting to know each establishment—and the owners—well. That was one of the great things about living in a small town. Everyone knew you—
“Um … Dad?”
He glanced at Aaron. “You run out of buildings, son?”
Aaron frowned. “Well, no. I mean, yes, pretty much. But that’s not why I stopped.” He pointed out the truck window. “Look.”
Dan directed his attention out the window and had to fight back a laugh. Behold, one of the drawbacks of moving to a small town. While Dan and Aaron had been studying Sanctuary, the good people of the town had been studying them. Anyone seated in a rocking chair leaned forward to watch Dan’s truck as it rolled by.
He nudged Aaron. “What say we stop and say hello?”
Aaron peered out the window. “You sure they’re safe?”
“Safer than most, I’d guess.” He parked the moving van alongside the walkway. A quick look in his side mirror showed him his sisters had followed his lead and parked behind him.
Dan grabbed the door handle, then nudged Aaron. “Ready to check out your new hometown?”
“Let’s go!” Aaron hopped out of the van.
Annie was already on the sidewalk, waiting for them. “What’s up, brother? I thought we were going to the house first.”
He held his arm out for Shannon, who came to stand next to him. “Aaron and I just thought it would be nice to meet our new neighbors.”
Annie looked over her shoulder at the rocking chair crowd, several of whom were still leaning forward to watch—and listen—better. “Why bother?” she whispered. “I’m betting they already know everything about you there is to know.”
“Either that,” Kyla said, joining them, “or they’ll make it up.”
“What’d that nice-looking young man say?”
Dan and the others turned at the loud, querulous question. Two white-haired women sat side by side in their rockers. A tiny dog decked out in a sparkly collar perched on one woman’s lap.
The taller of the two women swatted at the other’s arm. “Lower your voice, Agatha. You want those folks to think we’re gossips?”
“Parsnips?” Agatha peered over her glasses at Dan. “What’s he got to do with parsnips?”
“For heaven’s sake, Aggie!” The taller woman rocked her chair at a furious pace. “Turn up your hearing aid.”
Agatha sat back in her rocker, setting it in equally rapid motion, the dog in her lap scrambling to stay balanced. “Fiddle-faddle, Doris. Don’t need it. I hear just fine.”
“Ha! You can’t hear worth spit.”
&
nbsp; Agatha peered at her friend. “What’s that?”
Doris’s expression was that of utter innocence. “I said, looks like rain’s going to hit.”
“Rain?” Agatha stared up at the bright sun. “There’s not a cloud in the sky, you nit!”
Dan and the kids drew closer, and Aaron nudged him. “Is that a rat on her lap, Dad?”
He coughed to cover a laugh. “No, it’s a dog.”
Disbelief painted his son’s features. “No way.”
“It’s a Chihuahua.” This from Shannon, ever the animal expert. “I think he’s adorable!”
Dan slipped an arm around his children’s shoulders and inclined his head to the two women. “Morning, ladies. I’m Dan Justice.”
“Doris Kleffer.” The woman nodded to Dan, a dimple peeking out from the soft wrinkles on her cheek. “And the deaf one here is Agatha Hunter.”
“Well!” Agatha let a breath out on a huff. “If you’re not going to introduce me, I’ll do it myself.” She cut the other woman’s indignant response off by sticking her hand out to Dan. “Agatha Hunter. This is my friend, Doris. And this handsome fellow—” she lifted the Chihuahua, whose spindly little legs went rigid—“is Half Pint.”
“He’s so cute!”
Before Dan could stop her, Shannon stepped forward to scratch the dangling dog’s big ears. Dan’s fear that the dog might snap at her faded when a tiny pink tongue shot out, licking Shannon’s hands as though they were his salvation.
“He likes you, dear.” Agatha’s wrinkles folded into a beaming smile. “He can always tell who the nicest people are.”
“Miss Hunter, Miss Kleffer, these are my children, Shannon and Aaron.”
Agatha frowned. “What’s that about a harem?”
“Oh, for the love of Pete, Aggie!” Doris leaned over and poked her finger in the other woman’s ear, giving a quick turn. A shrill whine sounded, and Agatha tucked Half Pint close and batted her friend’s hand away.
“That’s too high!”
Shannon giggled, and Aaron stepped up beside her, stroking Half Pint’s tiny snout with a finger. “Is he a puppy?”
“Oh, no, dear.” Agatha was all smiles again. “He’s full grown.”
“So this is as big as he’ll get?” Aaron’s amazement amused the two ladies. “Wow. He’s gotta be the smallest dog I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s why we just count him as a half.”
Shannon and Aaron exchanged a look then grinned at Dan. “The population sign, Dad. Half Pint is the and one half!”
Dan was about to tell the kids that not even Sanctuary was so small it would list a dog on its official population when Agatha spoke up, pride ringing in her words. “Indeed, he is. Like his father before him, and his mother before that.”
Okay. So he was wrong.
Agatha leaned toward Shannon. “You are just the prettiest little thing. Like a little angel come right down from heaven.”
Dan nudged Aaron when he groaned. Fortunately, Agatha didn’t seem to hear his brotherly disgust.
“What’s your name?”
“Shannon Michelle Justice, ma’am.”
“Justice?” Agatha looked up at Dan. “Now isn’t that fine? You’re the new sheriff come to live in town!”
Before Dan could respond, Doris chimed in, holding her hands out to Kyla and Annie. “And these must be your dear sisters.” She took Annie’s hand, patting it and making a tsking sound as she looked at Dan. “So sorry to hear about your wife, Sheriff Justice.”
Dan didn’t know what alarmed him most: being called a sheriff or the fact that his life was so well known by people he’d never met. “I’m not a sherri—”
“Oh, won’t it be wonderful, Agatha, to have our very own sheriff living right in Sanctuary?”
Dan tried to reply, but he didn’t get the chance. Agatha popped up out of her rocker—Dan would never have imagined those old bones could be so spry—and hobbled over to call down the sidewalk toward the other rocking chairs.
“Come on over, folks! Come meet our new sheriff!”
“Uh, no … hang on. I’m just a deput—”
No one was listening. Suddenly Dan and his family found themselves surrounded by people smiling and talking and patting them on the backs, welcoming them to “our little piece of heaven on earth.”
As Dan smiled and did his best to connect names with faces, a shiver crawled across his shoulders. He had the distinct feeling he was being watched. Glancing up over the heads of those around him, he scanned the sidewalk.
And locked gazes with a pair of eyes so cold they were arctic. The kid staring at him was a hulk. Had to be almost as tall as Dan, but he guessed the kid outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. Not that he was fat. He was just big. Defensive-lineman big. No-neck big.
But the kid’s size didn’t make Dan take note of him. It was the look in those dark eyes. Though Dan couldn’t tell the color from here, he had no trouble recognizing the expression carved into the kid’s features. He’d seen it way too often in his work with troubled kids. Especially with the boys.
Anger. Arrogance. And just a touch of fear. A bad combination. One that had a nasty tendency to turn troubled kids downright dangerous.
“Come on, Sheriff.” Dan looked down at Doris, whose thin hand was resting on his arm. “LouBelle has invited us all to her diner for coffee and fresh baked cake.”
He put his hand over hers. “Sounds great. But Doris—” he glanced back to the kid down the sidewalk. He still stood there, leaning against the building like he owned it. “Tell me, who is that boy?”
Doris peered past him then pulled back, lips thinning. “Oh, he’s a bad one, Sheriff. Marlin Murphy.” Her tongue clucked. “Sixteen and nothing but trouble. That young man is going to come to no good, just like his father.”
Before Dan could ask any more, Agatha and several others tugged at him. “Let’s go, Sheriff Justice. Cake doesn’t stay fresh all day!”
Dan followed Agatha, his family in tow. Several hours later, their arms laden with gifts of pies and cookies and homemade bread, Dan and the others finally made their way back to their vehicles.
“Wow.” Aaron shook his head as he climbed into the moving truck. “Those people can talk!”
“They can, indeed.” Kyla held the car door open for Dan as he unloaded his goods to the backseat. “Something tells me, dear brother, you’ve not only said farewell to the city, but to the luxury of privacy.”
“It’ll be fine. I’d rather have folks be friendly and supportive than remote and uninterested.” He got into the truck, rolled the window down, then pulled the door shut.
“Well, then, you should be ecstatic,” Kyla retorted. “Because they certainly are interested.”
“Interested … and interesting.” Annie’s gaze was fixed across the street. When she turned back to Dan, warning bells went off at the gleam in his sister’s eyes.
“Okay, infant, what are you up to?”
Her wide-eyed innocence would have done Doris proud. “Me? Not a thing.” She leaned against the truck door. “So, to the house?”
Dan frowned. What had Annie been looking at? Nothing was across the street but the tiny house that served as Sanctuary’s public library. The tidy structure was adorned on the outside with an abundance of rose bushes, all laden with large, colorful blooms.
A woman stood there, her face hidden behind a wide-brimmed hat. Garden clippers in one hand, a basketful of daffodils in the other, she was the picture of a contented gardener. As a breeze tickled Dan’s face, he could just hear the soft sound of the woman’s singing.
She had a lovely voice.
The sound of a car starting pulled his awareness back to matters at hand. He glanced toward the car and caught Annie’s expression. She looked as though she’d just discovered something … intriguing. He looked from her to the woman at the library.
Oh no.
He knew Annie meant well. She was a romantic through and through. And she always saw possibilit
ies, which made her a gifted artist and, at times, and gigantic pain in the neck as a sister. Though she recognized it was far too early to talk about it, Dan knew, in her heart of hearts, she wanted him to fall in love again, to have someone to share his life with, to help raise the kids. But just because he noticed a shapely woman with an angelic voice who was close to his age didn’t mean he was ready, could ever be ready, to let another woman into his life.
Grabbing the gearshift, he jammed the truck into gear.
Yes, he and the kids needed a change. And they’d gotten one. A big one. Huge. But Dan loved Sarah—past, present, and future. She was the one and only great love of his life. And though she was gone, his love for her wasn’t.
And that was something that wasn’t going to change. Not ever.
Marlin Murphy slumped down in the rocking chair, planted his feet on the railing, and watched the moving truck drive away. “So—” he spoke around the toothpick clamped between his teeth—“law and order’s come to Sanctuary?”
Snorts met his proclamation. “Law and order! Yeah, right.”
“I’ll show that cop law and order. Jerk thinks he can just take over our town.”
Marlin leveled a glare at the two idiots leaning against the railing. Dicky and Jay Larsen, the brainless brothers. Good thing they got second helpings on brawn, ’cuz they were sure hiding behind the door when brains were handed out. “Why don’t you two just shut up?”
Their mouths clamped shut, and Marlin rolled his eyes. Fools. He was surrounded by fools.
Well … not all fools. There was always Jayce. Kid was as smart as they came. A little hard to control at times, but that’s where the two muscle morons came in.
“Marlin?”
He frowned at Dicky, not even bothering to hide his impatience. “I thought I told you to shut up?”
“Yeah, I know. But are you …? I mean …”
Marlin jerked his feet off the railing and slammed them onto the boardwalk. “What?”
Dicky bobbed his head. “Well, that cop. You gonna just let him come to town like that?”
Marlin shot a look at Dicky that shut him up quick.