“Thanks, Kenz.”
“I’m actually glad to have the chance to do something for Cole. He worked nonstop last summer when the Hell’s Fury flooded and then disappeared before I ever had the chance to say thanks. I don’t think I saw him even take a break for a sandwich. It will be nice to feel like we’re paying him back a little for all his help.”
“That works.”
“And maybe if we’re nice enough to him,” McKenzie went on in a voice that was growing in enthusiasm, “he won’t feel like he has to be such a hermit up there on the mountain. Sexy cowboys hanging around downtown for the tourists to see can only be good for our reputation, right?”
Devin laughed. “You can be the one to tell the man you want to pimp him out for the good of Haven Point.”
“He wouldn’t have to go bare-chested or anything. I would be happy if he just walked up and down Lake Street in his Stetson, tipping it every now and then to the tourists with a random ‘ma’am’ or ‘howdy.’”
She heard a deep voice on the other end—Ben, she assumed. McKenzie said something to him Devin couldn’t hear, then came back laughing.
“Okay, apparently Ben thinks that’s not one of my better ideas. We’ll keep it on the back burner for now.”
“That’s a good place for it. Way, way back,” Devin said with a laugh. “I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up the food.”
She ended the connection, deeply grateful for her sister. McKenzie had come into the family through difficult circumstances but Devin couldn’t imagine her world without her sister’s quirky sense of humor, her creative mind and her deep sense of compassion and loyalty.
Seamus wandered in again and pounced onto her lap. Simone peeked her head around the edge of the door frame, then slunk into the kitchen toward her food bowl with mad ninja skills, as if she were trying to become invisible by being one with the maple heartwood floor.
“Hey, kitty, kitty,” Devin said softly. Simone gave her a wary look, ate a little food, then darted back out of the room.
She petted Seamus for a moment, listening to the quiet sounds of the house where she had been raised—the whoosh of the furnace clicking on, the creak of old joists, the wind moaning under the eaves.
Some people might think it was weird that she still lived in her childhood home. Not only did she still live in it, she had used her inheritance from her father to purchase it from her mother and sister after she decided to come back to Haven Point to practice and went into partnership with Russ Warrick.
The sprawling house was too big for one person, but she didn’t care. She loved it, anyway. How could she not, right here on the lakeshore with a beautiful view of the steep and jagged mountains reflecting in the water?
It had always been a place of refuge. In the midst of all the chemo and radiation and fear—and then later, during the stress and pressure of medical school, residency and internship—this had been her go-to happy place.
She had done a few things to it since she purchased it. The kitchen was all new and she had taken out the old carpet and installed wood flooring throughout the house. She had taken out a couple of walls between two of the smaller rooms on the west side of the house and made one large master suite for herself with vaulted ceilings and huge windows.
It was her retreat, her sanctuary. She headed there now, accompanied by Seamus. Devin flipped the switch to turn on the Christmas tree, one of two in the house that McKenzie had decorated for her.
She was so tired she decided to forgo her usual routine of yoga stretches before bed and just changed into pajamas and sank into her bed. If she was going to help Cole Barrett and his kids, she had a feeling she would need all the sleep she could get.
* * *
HE HAD BROKEN a grand total of thirty-two bones in his body during his rodeo days but none of those injuries compared to the sheer sadistic agony of stepping on one of Ty’s LEGO pieces, even in stocking feet.
Cole bit back a curse but let it slip out anyway when his other foot stepped down on a colored pencil that jabbed at his foot through the sock.
Too bad he didn’t drink anymore, because right now he could really use a whiskey instead of the glass of water he had just about spilled all over the floor.
His house was officially a pigsty. After only a few hours of the kids at home on a Saturday morning without Tricia or his housekeeper, toys, discarded backpacks and cereal crumbs were scattered everywhere. Did they just grab bags of their belongings out of their rooms and run through the house tossing things right and left?
And how did they seem to have so much stuff, anyway? They had come to him with hardly anything. Sharla’s transient lifestyle had precluded them owning much besides some clothes and a few toys.
He reached down and picked up a mini brick figure of Darth Vader before the bad dude could slice off his toe with his plastic light saber.
“I think this guy is yours,” he said to Ty as his son headed in with another handful of dry cereal—which possibly explained the crushed bits on the carpet.
“I almost broke my foot on a couple of your other toys. Sorry I broke your creation.”
Ty winced. “I forgot to pick them up. Sorry. Should I get them now?”
“That would be helpful. And do you remember we talked about only eating in the kitchen and dining room?”
“I forgot that, too.”
“One more thing. Remember the rule about snacks? If you want something to eat, you need to ask me first, and if I say yes, you should put it in a bowl so we don’t trail pieces all over the floor for other people to step on.”
“Okay,” he said with a put-upon sigh.
The poor kid probably felt as if he’d gone from living in Disneyland with no rules and all the junk food he could want to doing hard time in Alcatraz.
Cole mustered a smile. “Thanks.”
“I told him he didn’t need any more cereal, because he already had breakfast and would only ruin his lunch, but he didn’t listen to me,” Jazmyn said in that know-it-all tone that could sometimes grate on his last nerve.
“I don’t mind him having a snack but we all need to work together to keep the place clean. Speaking of which, I believe I asked you to clear the breakfast dishes off the table.”
“I was drawing something,” she answered. Apparently she thought obeying her father was optional—or at least negotiable.
He wasn’t Sharla and the rules at Evergreen Springs were very different from what they were both used to.
He had made the mistake of letting things slide for a while after they first came here, when they were both reeling from their mother’s death.
They were still having a tough time of it—he had a feeling they would for a long time—but he was beginning to realize they needed structure and order to help them feel secure and stable here with him.
“It’s a very lovely picture,” he answered. “You are an excellent artist, Jazmyn.”
“Thanks.”
“Now you need to do what I asked and clear the table, unless you would like to lose the colored pencils for the rest of the day.”
She narrowed her gaze at him and opened her mouth as if to argue, but something in his expression stopped her. Wise girl. Instead, she gave a little huff and started clearing things off with dramatic, jerky movements.
He didn’t know what to do with her. She didn’t want to be here. She told him continually how she couldn’t wait until she lived with her grandma Trixie. Sharla’s mother was threatening a custody battle, and while he didn’t think she would have a leg to stand on, he knew too well how quickly the system could turn on a guy.
Trixie didn’t help the situation at all by constantly telling Jazmyn she wanted his daughter to come live with her in California.
When she was younger, Jazmyn had adored him and thought he could do no wrong.
Eight years of her grandmother and mother poisoning her against him had altered their relationship. He didn’t know how to fix things, especially when she could be so frustrating and fought him about even the most basic things, like brushing her teeth or helping out with minor chores.
He had trained plenty of horses and dogs but was discovering training kids was a little more complicated.
She was a tough cookie, his little girl. In a lot of ways, she had been forced to raise herself because of circumstances—particularly her selfish, immature mother with repeated substance abuse problems and the string of men she brought in and out of the kids’ lives.
Jazmyn had been through far too much in her short eight years on the planet. It was no wonder she had become a bossy, difficult little thing.
For now, she seemed to be willing to do something he asked and he decided to enjoy it while it lasted. He returned to his laptop and was deep in the new accounting program he was trying to figure out for the ranch when the doorbell rang.
“Who could that be?” Ty asked, rushing to the door before Cole could even push his chair back from the table.
He really needed to have a talk with the kid about stranger danger and taking a few basic precautions, like waiting for his dad to answer the door. He didn’t want to make his kids paranoid but Cole knew better than most that there were nasty people in the world. He’d lived among the worst for eighteen months.
At least Coco, the old ranch dog who lived inside these days, had padded after him. She was half-blind but she would still go to the wall for everybody she considered part of her pack.
He headed after both of them just as his son opened the door for Devin Shaw.
Cole was struck again by how lovely she was, with her appealing smile, green eyes sparkling in the sunshine and all that delicious creamy skin, a little pink from the cold.
A few random snowflakes spangled the blue-and-silver beanie she wore and the jaunty matching scarf. She looked bright and vibrant and very different from the scrub-wearing professional he had seen at the hospital.
He had just a moment for purely masculine appreciation before the questions began to fly in his mind. What was she doing here? Was Tricia all right? Had there been some kind of complication? He had talked to his sister earlier in the morning but maybe the situation had changed.
No. If there had been a problem, Tricia would have called him. Not only that, but he had a feeling Devin wouldn’t be so calm right now, nor would she be giving such a friendly smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi, Dr. Shaw,” Ty said. “Did you see all that snow?”
She crouched down to talk to him at his level. “I sure did. I just drove through it on the way up here from town. It’s pretty deep. With snow like that, there’s only one thing to do. You have to build a snowman.”
Ty’s face lit up. “Yes! We should! Jaz, don’t you think we should build a snowman?”
While Cole was busy trying not to stare at Devin, Jazmyn had wandered out to see who was at the door.
“It’s too cold,” Jazmyn answered, though Cole didn’t miss the sudden spark of excitement in her eyes. She was so contrary she even argued with herself and didn’t want to admit what she really wanted.
“If you dress warmly, you’ll be so busy having fun, you won’t even feel the cold,” Dr. Shaw assured her.
“Can we, Dad? Can we?” Ty asked.
He didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to disappoint his son but he had ranch accounts to finish and then a call scheduled in fifteen minutes with a new client who wanted to discuss a possible lucrative new contract. The vet was supposed to be dropping by sometime that afternoon to take a look at one of the horses he was training who seemed off his feed.
A little resentful of Dr. Shaw for showing up on the doorstep and giving him one more thing to feel guilty about, Cole opened his mouth to tell Ty they could try to build one later in the afternoon but she spoke before he could.
“I’ve got a few minutes,” she offered. “And I’m particularly good at snowpeople. I would love to help you build a snowman, if your dad doesn’t mind.”
What was he supposed to say to that? He couldn’t send her on her way without sounding like even more of a jerk.
“I’m sure you didn’t drive all the way up here just so you could build a snowman with my son,” he said.
She smiled. “No. I would just consider that a bonus. Actually, I came out to bring you something.”
He gazed blankly at her. “You did?”
She opened the front door and pointed to a large cardboard box outside on the porch.
“What is it?” Ty asked.
“Is it a puppy?” Jazmyn asked. “I really want a puppy.”
“We have a dog,” he answered, pointing to Coco, who had eased her tired bones down onto the rug in the foyer.
“She’s old and she doesn’t ever want to play,” Jazmyn answered. “And her breath stinks.”
“It’s not a puppy,” Dr. Shaw assured him. “Stinky or otherwise.”
“Is it a Christmas present?” Ty asked.
“I guess you could call it that. A Christmas present from lots of different people.”
“Can I see what it is?”
“Go ahead.”
Ty opened the flaps, peered inside, then eased away with a confused look. “It’s just bowls and stuff.”
“What is it?” Jazmyn asked, pushing her way forward. If there was anything interesting happening within her orbit, Jaz wanted to be part of it.
“Dinner,” she answered cheerfully. “Several dinners. And maybe some lunches, too.”
He frowned, eyeing the box warily. “What are you talking about?”
She shrugged, but if he didn’t know better, he would say she looked a little embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind, but your sister told me a little about your situation.”
“My situation,” he said stiffly. How much had Tricia told her?
“She said you recently lost a housekeeper. With her in the hospital now and likely to stay there for at least a few weeks, she’s concerned about you and the children.”
“I’ve got things under control,” he muttered. One look into the living room mess would certainly prove that for a bald-faced lie.
“I’m sure you do,” she answered. “But everybody can use a little help and you’ve got your hands full. My sister helped me put the word out to our sources that we have a neighbor in need and this is the result.”
He gazed down at the box filled with containers. “Food. You brought food.”
“These are ready-made meals that can go in your freezer or fridge. A few soups, some casseroles, even a lasagna in there. All you have to do is heat them, no prep required.”
He couldn’t quite wrap his head around what she was saying. “Who did you say this came from?”
“Lots of people. When somebody needs help in Haven Point, people love the chance to step up.”
People he didn’t know had fixed meals for him and his kids. How was he supposed to react to that? In all his life, he wasn’t sure anybody had ever done something like this for him before.
“I know it’s not much,” she said at his continued silence. “But it should get you through a week or so. They’re all really kid-friendly meals. We tried to make sure of that. I believe you should be able to find a thing or two your kids will like.”
“Food? That’s the present? That’s weird,” Jazmyn said.
“Is there any mac and cheese?” Ty asked. “That’s my favorite.”
She smiled. “As a matter of fact, I made some for you myself this morning.”
She made it? Cole couldn’t quite process the idea of a busy physician spending even five minutes preparing a meal for his family.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say
,” he finally answered.
“You don’t have to say anything. Everybody was happy to help. Most of my friends already had a meal in their freezer or just made extra this morning of whatever they were going to make for their own family’s dinner. Oh, and it helps that I’m very good friends with Barbara Serrano, whose family owns the diner in town. She sent over several things in there. I think I saw a meat loaf, some chicken alfredo and some of their fabulous pasta e fagioli soup.”
All of those sounded delicious. His kitchen skills were limited to burgers on the grill, pancakes and a pretty good omelet, which meant the kids—Jaz in particular—would likely be launching a rebellion after another day or two.
“In fact,” Dr. Shaw went on, “so many people offered something that I’ve got another box in my truck. Do you think you have freezer room? Don’t worry if you don’t. I can take it back to my place for now and then come back with another load in a week or so.”
He had been so careful around the people of Haven Point—never rude but not exactly friendly, either. It was easier to stick up here on the ranch, to do his business over the phone or outside Haven Point. That way, people didn’t ask questions and he didn’t have to get into uncomfortable explanations. Even so, when he went to town, he wondered if people were whispering about him. Ex-con. Washed-up. Disaster.
Now they could add struggling, out-of-his-depth single father to the mix.
Despite all his efforts to keep people in town at a distance, somehow they still had been willing to do this for him and for his kids. It defied comprehension.
He decided gracious gratitude was the only option available to him. “I have room,” he finally said, his voice gruff. “Thank you. I’m...overwhelmed.”
That she had been intuitive and compassionate enough to spearhead the effort to help him out was the most stunning facet of the whole thing.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled again and the warmth of it seemed to seep right through his skin. “Why don’t I put these in your freezer while the children get their winter gear on. I’ll entertain them for a little while out in the snow.”
Evergreen Springs Page 5