Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday FamilySugar Plum SeasonHer Cowboy HeroSmall-Town Fireman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Oh. Ouch. Unfair.” Sherrie picked out three boxes of Christmas lights, paused, then added a fourth to her stack. “He was eighteen,” Sherrie reminded her. “And people react to sadness differently. I think back to that day, losing Pete and Amy, and for years I kept wondering what I could have done differently. If I’d been less pesky, less bothersome, would they have stayed at home? Hung out by the campfire? Maybe knowing there’d be a kid sister around later pushed them to take the boat out. Have some romantic boyfriend/girlfriend time.”

  “Sherrie—”

  “I know it wasn’t my fault.” Sherrie brushed off Tina’s protest with a shrug. “I’m all grown up now, I know people make choices every day, and that I was just a normal kid, pestering her big brother and wishing I was as pretty as Amy with her long blond hair and those big blue eyes. And then they were gone, and it left such a hole. But just because Max didn’t come around doesn’t make him a bad person, Tina. He might have been older than us, but he was still a kid who’d just lost his best friend. And that couldn’t have been easy.”

  Sherrie’s argument made perfect sense, but Sherrie hadn’t done a decade-long disappearing act after college. Max had. And Tina was done with capricious men, even if her heart managed to skip a beat every time Max walked into a room. Clearly hearts knew nothing and were not to be trusted. End of story.

  “So you’re working together.” Sherrie ended the sentence on a note of question, hunting for an informational update. Tina gave her a look that said nothing interesting was happening. Or would happen.

  “Of necessity. Jenny and Charlie need help. Max and I are available. Simple math, one plus one and all that.”

  “Except you had a crush on him all through high school,” Sherrie mused as she pulled out her debit card. “Honey, when God plants your dream right in front of you, I think it’s an invitation to grab hold. See where life leads.”

  “I know exactly where my life is heading, thanks.” Tina patted the thin stack of computer printouts. “These are possible café sites near the Erie Canal. Not so far away that I can’t visit, but far enough to wipe the slate clean, Sherrie. And that’s something I desperately need. A new beginning, a fresh start.”

  “And you’ve prayed about this, chatted it up with God, right?”

  “I think the fire was a good sign that my time in Kirkwood has come to a close,” Tina told her while ignoring the fact she’d done no such thing. A thin ribbon of guilt tweaked her. “If you’re looking for signs, that one was pretty direct.”

  Sherrie tucked her debit card back into her purse once Tina ran it through, but refused to be dissuaded. “If someone did set that fire, that’s no message from God, Tina. That’s a depraved act of humanity and shouldn’t go unpunished. And folks around here rebuild after disaster all the time. Look what happened after the floods last year. And those blizzards that took out three old barns? We’re rebuilders. We don’t give up. And I don’t even want to think about you being more than two hours away. We’ve been besties forever, so yes, selfishly, I want you here when my baby comes. Babies should have their godmothers close by, don’t you think?”

  “You’re pregnant?” Delight coursed through Tina. Sherrie and her husband had been hoping for a child for years. With two sad outcomes behind them, a well-set pregnancy seemed almost impossible. But a tiny prick of envy niggled the rise of joy, because Tina had thought her life would be on a similar track by now. Married. A cute kid or two. Maybe a dog like Beezer, loving and easygoing. Surging happiness displaced the twinge of envy, and she grabbed her best friend in a big hug. “Tell me when.”

  “In less than five months,” Sherrie said. “We kept it quiet until we were far enough along to be more confident, so in four and a half months, I’ll need your help. But you can’t help me if you’re so far away.”

  Sherrie was right. She’d be little help from that distance, and starting a new business took a level of dedication that went beyond the norm. She remembered her early days with the café, long, tedious days, keeping overhead down while working to build business up. That meant lots of personal man-hours.

  Was she ready to do that again?

  The morning’s image cropped up once more, the firemen, sifting through the ashes, their movements kicking up the smell of old, wet, burned wood, a hunk of ugly set in the middle of the season of light.

  What if this person was targeting her personally?

  She knew the investigators were checking out Sol Rigby to see if he had a reason to torch his own place, but Tina doubted that. Sol was frugal, and he didn’t look well-off, but Tina was pretty sure the old guy was doing okay financially. Which meant he had no reason to want insurance money.

  The realization that they would investigate her hit hard. They would check her financials, and while not great, they weren’t bad, either. And no way would she do such a thing.

  But clearly the investigators thought someone had purposely burned down her place. The question was who? And why?

  “I know the arson investigators talked to your aunt today. And I know this because Jim was with them,” Sherrie offered as if she’d read where her thoughts had wandered. “He didn’t repeat anything that was said, but he said it was a tough interview.”

  “My café hurt her business.”

  Sherrie nodded. “Which might be motive enough to get it out of the way.”

  “Aunt Laura would never do that. Rocco, maybe.” Memories of her uncle’s temperamental tirades hit hard, but Rocco was gone, and Laura wasn’t the hurtful type. She was more mouse than lion and Rocco had taken advantage of that for years. “I know they’re in a tight spot. Rocco didn’t believe in life insurance so Laura and Ryan got left with nothing but a failing business and a stack of bills.”

  “Well, he wasn’t the sort to look out for his family,” Sherrie replied. “Which means Laura’s trying to run the place alone because Ryan is no help. Jim said that bunch of boys from Clearwater are a tough group. They’re old enough to drive and he’s sneaking out to hang out with them. Laura’s so busy trying to do things on her own, no one’s watching the kid. And that means trouble’s on the way.”

  Talking about this made Tina tired. She’d run the scenario through her head countless times, and had come up with nothing good. All the more reason to start anew somewhere else. She hated drama and avoided it at all costs, but burned-out businesses came with their own spectacle of tragedy.

  “Right now let’s focus on this baby. Do we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “A boy.” Sheer delight said Sherrie was more than okay with the change of subject. “We found out today. Jim wanted to be surprised, but I said uh-uh. I wanted to know so I can give him the coolest little kid bedroom ever.”

  “And Jim said, ‘Whatever you want, honey.’”

  “Exactly!” Sherrie laughed and moved outside where Earl was loading the snowblower into the back of her pickup truck. “We’ll talk soon. Don’t make any rash moves, okay?”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “See you later.”

  Excitement colored everything about Sherrie today. Her tone, her face, her eyes. And Tina was overjoyed for her friend. She understood the struggles Sherrie had faced, and now she’d pray for a happy ending, a beautiful healthy baby boy for Sherrie and Jim to hold and feed and do all that other stuff one must do with babies.

  She and Sherrie had grown up together. Their family homes had been right next to each other. They’d shared classes together, dance instructors and soccer teams. She’d been Sherrie’s maid of honor five years ago, and Sherrie had a rose chiffon bridesmaid dress collecting dust in her closet from Tina’s short-lived engagement a few years after that. Evan Veltre had decided tall, buxom and raven-haired was more his style. Dumping her mid-engagement made her previous boyfriend’s infidelity seem mild by comparison. At least they hadn’t been engaged when the blonde
caught his eye.

  A niggle of sensibility tweaked her.

  Had she been hurrying the process, wanting to fall in love? Had she been trying to fit the guy, rather than letting God’s timing take charge?

  The pinch of common sense was nudged by a twinge of guilt. She did like to make her own path, chart her own course, a charge-ahead kind of woman in many ways. Sherrie had asked if she’d turned to prayer.

  She hadn’t, not really. Was she too busy, too independent to trust God?

  Beezer whined and pawed the door, ready to go. Tina drew a breath, switched off the lights, activated the alarm and went out the door with the big, gold dog ambling alongside her.

  Wind tunneled down Main Street, tumbling the last of autumn’s leaves. They scurried along the street, pushed by the stiff breeze, gathering in curves and hollows.

  Soon it would snow. And they’d continue to decorate the town in beautiful light, a beacon of Christmas hope and cheer. And once again she’d spend Christmas alone, no family, no beloved, no kids.

  Beezer pushed his head up under her arm.

  He wanted her to pet him. Talk to him. So she did just that on the drive to the Campbell house, happy that no one could see her talking with the big yellow dog, but more glad of his trusting company.

  If nothing else crazy occurred in her life this year, she was determined to get herself a dog. Maybe.

  Beezer yipped softly, as if telling her she didn’t need another dog, she could still share him. If she stayed.

  And there was the crux of the problem. A big part of Tina didn’t want to stay and face past failures anymore.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, Beeze.” Max swung down from the elevated boathouse as Tina rounded the corner of the Campbell house at half past six. He looked sports-channel-commercial-friendly in easy-cut jeans and a long-sleeved Pittsburgh Pirates sweatshirt.

  “Did you keep an eye on things, old fella?” He stooped and ruffled the dog’s neck, rubbing Beeze’s favorite spot beneath the wide collar. “All good?” He looked up at her as he asked the question, and the sight of him, caring for the aging dog, looking all sweet and concerned and amazingly good-looking...

  She took three seconds to put her heart back in normal sinus rhythm mode. “Everything went fine. Dozens of happy customers picking up their tools and buying fixer-upper stuff to get ready for the holidays.” She frowned as Beeze headed for the water, though she knew she had nothing to worry about. Beeze was a country dog and his daily swim was an old habit now. “He’ll smell like wet dog all night.”

  “I’ll put him on the porch. Dad’s gotten sensitive to smells. The chemo, I guess. He says nothing smells right anymore.”

  “Will it get better when he’s done?”

  Max’s expression said he wasn’t sure anything would get better, ever. Seeing that, her heart softened more.

  “Hope so.” Max headed for the house. “Come on in. Beeze will join us once he’s done with his swim.”

  Tina knew that. She’d spent an increasing amount of time at the Campbell house over the past decade. Charlie and Jen were good at taking in strays, and when her family had fallen apart, they’d jumped right in. She’d spent holidays here, preserved food with Jenny during the summer, and when Seth Campbell spotted her café on fire a few weeks back from his house across the road, he’d called 9-1-1 and his parents.

  They’d helped her then.

  She’d help them now. And she’d have done it for no pay, but Charlie wouldn’t hear of it. A true fatherly type, he understood cash was finite in a week-to-week existence, and he insisted on paying her for her time. “You know, if you’re too tired, we can go over this stuff in the morning. I know you’ve had a long day.”

  “Except we could really use the light guy’s take on all this.” Max’s nod toward the door said Charlie’s input was key.

  “Is he up to it?”

  “Let’s ask him.” Max swung the porch door wide and waited while she stepped in. The smell of roast chicken chased away any pale arguments she might have raised about staying for dinner. She used to grab quick food as she prepared orders at the café. She’d never worried about cooking or grocery shopping at home because she ate on the job. Now?

  Truth to tell, she’d been barely eating at all. The realization smacked her upside the head as she crossed to Charlie’s big recliner. “Hey, there. We had a great day today, thanks to Max’s overnight efforts.”

  “Yeah?” Charlie’s smile was a thin portrait of the one they knew so well. Tiredness dogged his eyes. “Max and Earl got all that stuff fixed?”

  “We did. And how about we have you move into the living room, Dad, because when Beeze comes in from the lake, he’s going to smell pretty bad. I’ll leave him outside for a while, but then I’ll tuck him on the porch. If that’s all right.”

  “I can towel him off when he’s done with his swim,” Tina added. “Then he can curl up by the heater. He and I are used to this routine.”

  “Are you now?” Max lobbed an old towel her way from the stack they kept inside the back door. “You’re elected, then. Need a hand, Dad?”

  “I wouldn’t mind one.” Charlie huffed as he pressed his hands against the wide arms of the chair. He pushed down hard, but paused midway to catch his breath.

  Max didn’t fuss, he didn’t act the least bit concerned or surprised, which told her he was skilled at pretense, and that wasn’t something women put in the plus column. She’d had her share of guys who pretended to be happy. Never again. Still, his calm demeanor and strong arm beneath his father’s elbow allowed Charlie the extra support he needed, and Max’s matter-of-fact manner kept the moment drama-free. “Do you want to eat at the table or in the family room? There’s an eight-o’clock game on ESPN.”

  “Who’d you say was playing?”

  Tina sucked a breath. Charlie Campbell knew sports like no other. He loved catching games on TV, and he’d installed a TV in the hardware store so he could catch Pittsburgh throughout both seasons, baseball and football. He’d been celebrating their growing success all year. Before chemotherapy muddled his mind, Charlie would never forget what game was on, who’d scored the most points or who landed on the disabled list.

  But he had.

  He passed a hand across his forehead as he settled into the firm family-room chair. “They said I might forget stuff.”

  “It appears they were right,” Max teased. “But Dad, that’s normal for chemo. And it all comes back later.”

  Charlie stared at Max, stared right at him with a look that said too much, but then he shrugged, playing along. “That’ll be good.”

  Tina’s heart sank. For just a moment, she read the realization in Max’s eyes, his face-off with the grim reality of a new timeline, but then he leaned in, hugged his father and backed off. “I’ll bring you a tray, okay?”

  Charlie’s face paled further, and Tina hadn’t thought that was possible. She touched Max’s arm to draw his attention to “Plan B.” “Or Charlie and I could just sit and talk while you guys eat,” she offered brightly. “I’ll fill him in on store stuff and pick his brain about the festival of lights.”

  “Since I want to be in on that conversation, I bet Mom won’t mind if we hold off supper for a few minutes while we figure this out. Great idea, Tina.”

  His praise warmed her. His expression said he recognized her ploy and approved. It was clear that Charlie didn’t want food, and despite the great smells emanating from Jenny Campbell’s kitchen, Tina didn’t mind waiting. Not if it helped Charlie.

  * * *

  Max set a side chair alongside Tina’s in the family room and took a seat. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her purse. “Charlie, can you give us a quick overview of your normal festival timeline? Max has offered to help, but he hasn’t been here since this tradition started.”

&
nbsp; Ouch. Salt in the wound... Max angled her a look she ignored.

  “I’ve got some notes on my laptop. I’ll have Mom get you the file,” Charlie promised Max, but then added, “Thing is, I go my own way most times, and your mother told me I should write stuff down, but I was stubborn—”

  A distinct cough from the kitchen said Jenny heard and agreed.

  “So some of this I just roll with as it happens.”

  “Tell me those parts, Dad, then I can roll with it in your place.”

  Charlie explained the contracted light display in the park and the circle of lights surrounding the lake supplied by year-round home-owners and lakeshore businesses. A few cottage owners came back in December, too, solely to set up light displays at their summer homes. “The Kirkwood Lady takes dinner cruises around the lake after Thanksgiving,” he added. “It only holds three dozen diners, so it gets booked up fast, but it’s a sight to see, the boat, all lit up, circling the lake, surrounded by Christmas lights.”

  The image painted a pretty picture. The big boat, all decked out, surrounded by a ring of lights, trolling the lake’s perimeter.

  Max had been raised on the water. He’d learned how to fish, catch bait, water-ski and swim, all along the shores of Kirkwood Lake. But since the Sawyer family tragedy, and with the exception of army-related maneuvers, he’d purposely stayed on land. Losing his best friend, knowing what led up to that tragic night and how he might have prevented the heartbreak that followed, spoiled the beauty of lakeshore living.

  As Tina jotted down information about the contracted lighting company, Charlie’s eyes drifted shut.

  “Supper’s ready.” Jenny walked into the room, saw Charlie and didn’t hide the look of concern quite quick enough.