A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

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A Heartwarming Thanksgiving Page 35

by Amy Vastine


  “I’m a passionate girl. Deal with it.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up as he picked up a pebble and tossed it across the grass.

  “I must say, I was surprised to see you tied to the trunk instead of sitting up in the branches like a respectable tree-hugger.” He grinned. “I thought with all your adventures, you’d have gotten over your fear of heights by now.”

  “Not even close.” Hurt once. Lesson learned. She’d hated heights ever since she’d climbed the oak when she was twelve, fell down and broke her arm. Austin had been the one to run and get her dad.

  “I made a call to put a hold on construction,” he said. “I want to look into the studies and permits. It wouldn’t be the first time inspectors and officials turned a blind eye for the sake of a buck. Feel free to help out. I need to wait until Monday, though, when everyone is back to work. Plus, I’m on patrol duty today and most of the weekend. Holiday shopping season. Do you mind me spending my lunch break with you?”

  She cocked her head at him.

  “Stupid question.”

  “No such thing.”

  “Would you do something for me before you’re back to work?”

  “Name it.”

  “Would you come with me to visit his grave?” She held her breath. After the way she’d left him to handle everything on his own, she didn’t deserve to have him stand by her and give her strength. He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “Of course. I’ll always be here for you, Serena.”

  * * *

  Austin held the solid wood and stained glass door to Bentley’s open and let Serena in ahead of him. The old pub, with its Friday night live music and great food, had been their favorite hangout in college. After the cold drizzle at the cemetery, he figured she could use something hot to drink…and he wanted to milk every second he could with her.

  “I remember Bentley’s being a lot busier than this,” Serena said, slipping off her jacket. He took it from her and scanned the place. A force of habit and training. Brie, the redheaded owner, had her back to them as she served a man sitting at a corner table. Her young, service-dog-in-training, Wolf, was at her side.

  “Long story,” Austin said. “Business took a hit after someone was killed at the intersection here by a drunk driver less than a year ago. I was one of the officers on scene.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry,” Serena said, touching his arm.

  “Austin, good to see you. The usual?” Brie walked over with a smile on her face. Her eyes widened. “Serena Myss? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Good to see you, Brie.”

  Austin waited for the girl hug to finish. “Just coffee today, Brie. I need to get back to work.”

  “Coming right up. Really great to see you, Serena. We should catch up soon.”

  Serena smiled and nodded as she led the way to the same table they’d always sat at. Austin hoped she’d stick around and have plenty of time for catching up with old friends in town.

  “What’s with the puppy?”

  “She’s training him for the service school test.” Austin’s expression sobered when he heard the call coming through on his radio. He could tell by the way her eyes faded that Serena had heard it, too. A standoff at a shopping strip with hostages involved. Great. “I have to go.” He stood abruptly, but bent over and kissed her before leaving. “Can you get home safely?”

  “Of course,” she said, standing. She looked pale. “Be careful, okay?”

  He stole one last kiss. He tried not to wonder if it’d be his last. He needed to hurry. He needed to focus on the situation at hand. He didn’t have time to wonder whether the fear in Serena’s eyes meant that she really wasn’t ready to handle the dangers of his job. And that she’d be gone again by the time he came home.

  * * *

  “It’s happening again. I can’t—” Serena covered her face and gasped for air. She heard the TV click off and felt mom’s arms around her. The standoff was over and the gunman had given himself up, but not before firing his gun. The reporter’s voice, stating that an officer identified as Austin Shale had been shot and rushed to the hospital, echoed in her head.

  “Let’s go,” her dad said. He put his hand on her shoulder. “All of us, Serena. You’re not alone. You hear me? We’ll get through this together.”

  “Breathe, honey. You’re going to hyperventilate.” Her mom rubbed her back then held Serena’s face in her hands. “Slow down.”

  Serena’s breathing steadied and she took the tissues her dad handed her.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  She could do this.

  If you get sick, you’ll get stuck with me at your bedside.

  She needed to be there for him. She just didn’t know if she’d have the strength to stay.

  * * *

  She was gone. Austin was sure of it.

  He sat up in his hospital bed and looked out the window. Even on pain meds, his shoulder where they’d removed the bullet hurt like hell, but it didn’t compare to the misery of realization that she wasn’t coming. Every officer he knew at the station had come by to visit. His chief said the waiting room down the hall had been filled with uniforms until the doctors assured them he was going to be okay. Even Mr. and Mrs. Myss had come to his bedside for a quick visit a few minutes ago. When he asked about Serena, they’d simply exchanged looks and excused themselves.

  He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillow, swallowing hard against both physical and emotional pain. He’d survived losing her before. He’d wanted closure. Now he had it.

  Drug-induced drowsiness made him sink into the pillow. Sleep dulled the pain. Soft lips touched his, too warm and real to be a medication side effect. The familiar scent of lavender soothed him.

  Serena.

  He kept his eyes closed as the kiss made his blood rush and pain vanish.

  “Oh, Nurse Betty. Don’t stop,” he said, smiling.

  “What? Nurse Betty, my foot.”

  The spunk was back in her voice. He loved her voice. He loved her. He cracked open his heavy lids and chuckled.

  “You look terrible, but you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

  “Ditto.”

  “I thought you’d left town.”

  She sat carefully on the edge of the bed and took his hand on his uninjured side and held it against her chest.

  “I almost did. I was scared, Austin. But then I realized that, no matter what, I wanted to stay here, by your side, in sickness and in health, `till death do us part.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them. Was he hearing her right, or was it the meds?

  “Are you saying—”

  “Yes, I am. I love you, Austin. I always have. And I’m not going to let worrying about the things that can happen take what we have away from us. I want to spend forever with you, no matter how long forever will be. More than anything, I’m thankful you’re a part of me, too.”

  She’d read his leaf message. He sat straighter, letting her help him and leaning into her for support. He kissed her then rested his forehead against hers.

  “Forever, huh? As in getting married, living next door to your parents and giving them lots of grandkids?”

  “Um, how many kids are we talking?”

  “Enough that your mom will eventually need to buy a Thanksgiving Tree with more branches,” he said, lacing his fingers in hers and giving her another kiss.

  “Maybe we can just have them hang their leaves on our real Thanksgiving Tree. The oak. It could be a tradition for all the kids you mentor. Besides, I think that old oak would love to witness another generation of Shales growing up.”

  Austin grinned at the idea of building a big family with Serena and all the fun they’d have doing so.

  “I’m all in. When can we start?”

  EPILOGUE

  This was it. Serena’s pulse tripped when she saw Austin standing under their tree in a suit. She gripped her bouquet of wildflowers and b
egan walking through the grass in her mom’s wedding dress. It took forever for May to roll around, but they’d wanted construction to be finished and for their oak to have leafed out after the long winter they had. An open pavilion on decking had been build near the tree, in lieu of a building, and right now it was packed with friends, family, officers and all the teens who’d come to think of Austin as a big brother.

  She loved that a bunch of teen girls had started coming to GPS, too. They told her she was like a big sister and their words were soothing. Working with Austin on their cause when he was off duty and whenever she wasn’t busy working on her Master’s in environmentalism over at the university. It made life complete.

  There had indeed been options for building the teen center. Greener options. They’d turned the place into more of a park. The pavilion, being without a foundation, had allowed them to keep the tree…where they’d be taking their wedding portrait to add to Austin’s photograph collection.

  They’d brought in soil and created a drainage system to allow for an indoor structure complete with pool tables, hoops indoors and out, skateboards, bikes and just about anything a teen would want to be built, closer to the opposite side of the property, where it wouldn’t disturb the habitat around the creek.

  And, taking advantage of the rich soil and water, they’d started a community garden where the teens could take part in growing food, learning about sustainability and help donate to food banks for community service.

  She “walked up the aisle,” passing through the pavilion where everyone sat.A plaque on one of its pillars read In memory of Gale. She went and stood by Austin. He took her hands and neither of them could stop smiling as they said their vows. She had no second thoughts or doubts. Austin Shale was her true north.

  Everyone cheered as Austin scooped her up and carried her towardthe building for the reception.

  “I can walk!” She laughed.

  “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you. This is the only respectable way I can do that right now,” he said.

  Everyone followed and several kids, including Joshua, chanted, “Austin and Serena, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

  Serena looked over his shoulder.

  “I think they want us to kiss again,” she said.

  “Let’s not disappoint.” He kissed her as he spun her in a circle.

  Serena put her arms around his neck and held on tight.

  This time around, they’d be holding on forever.

  * * * * *

  Be sure to check out the books in Rula Sinara’s FROM KENYA, WITH LOVE miniseries!

  THE PROMISE OF RAIN

  AFTER THE SILENCE

  THROUGH THE STORM

  Available in paperback and digitally at Harlequin.com and through online retailers everywhere.

  Gluten-Free Butternut Squash Cheesecake by Rula Sinara

  Note—a food processor makes this recipe super easy and gives the filling a smooth texture, but if you don’t have one feel free to use an electric mixer or your muscles . Also, this recipe is gluten-free, but a regular graham-cracker crust may be substituted for those who wish.

  Crust Ingredients

  1 cup Bob’s Red Mill gluten-free rice flour (white or brown)

  1 stick (½ cup) chilled unsalted butter, cubed

  ¼ cup dark brown sugar

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon

  ½ teaspoon nutmeg

  Filling Ingredients

  1 cup cooked butternut squash. (You can use canned or fresh. I cut a fresh one in half lengthwise, scoop out the seeds and place facedown on a foil-covered pan. Bake it at 350°F until the skin browns and it feels tender when poked with a knife. This could take anywhere from 30 min to 1 hour, depending on the size of the squash and oven variations. When it’s cool, scoop out the amount needed and store the rest…or make soup!)

  3 packages (8 ounces each) of Neufchâtel cheese (regular cream cheese may be substituted)

  ¾ cup of sour cream

  1 cup granulated sugar

  ½ cup dark brown sugar

  1 tablespoon vanilla extract

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon

  ¼ teaspoon nutmeg

  2 tablespoons cornstarch (gluten-free brand)

  3 eggs

  Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 350°F.

  2. Put all the crust ingredients into a large food processor and blend until wet crumbles form. Dump into an ungreased 10- to 11-inch round Pyrex dish and use fingers to press a thin layer across the bottom and up along the sides of the dish. This doesn’t have to be pretty or perfect! Set aside (no prebaking needed).

  3. Put all of the filling ingredients into a large food processor and blend. Stop once to scrape the sides, then blend again until smooth.

  4. Pour the batter into the crust-lined dish. Don’t worry if it covers all the crust edges or the crust barely shows. This is normal.

  5. Place the dish on a middle oven rack and bake for 45 to 50 minutes or until surface is slightly browned and knife/toothpick comes out clean from the center.

  6. Cool to room temperature, then refrigerate before serving. It’s delicious cold and can be served with fresh berries, whipped cream or ice cream. Enjoy!

  Married by Thanksgiving

  By Melinda Curtis

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Recipe: Apple-Pineapple-Blueberry Minis

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Mr. Hadley, I’m representing you today.” The woman on the other side of the Berkeley courthouse table wore a conservative blue suit that made her look ten years older than Clinton Hadley suspected she was.

  Trouble was…

  He needed a real old lawyer—or at least a battle-scarred one—like the one he’d hired last month. Thinning white hair, outdated wire rimmed glasses, willing to lie, cheat, and deal to get Clinton Hadley out of jail in time to quarterback the Wolves against the Vipers on Sunday.

  Trouble was…

  This woman had long, thick brown hair that he wanted to touch. Her clothes, her glasses, her cleavage (none shown!) were all in style and up-to-date. And she gave him a conservative smile, the kind that said she’d never lied, cheated, or double-dealed to get anyone out of jail. Ever.

  “I’m Brenda Thomas from Wilson, Wilson and Wyatt.” The conservative smile vanished. In its place was a look he’d seen too often on rookies lining up across from a veteran offensive tackle, trying too hard to look confident.

  He was in trouble! Big trouble.

  “Where’s my lawyer?” The one Clinton wouldn’t trust playing poker with. Those things the jail had called eggs made an illegal move up his throat.

  Her “confidence” never wavered. “Mr. Wilson sends his regrets from the Bahamas.”

  Clinton’s agent was also on vacation this week. Had everyone deserted him during the most important time of his life? Didn’t anyone stay at home for Thanksgiving anymore?

  “I’ve been in here since Saturday night,” he said. It was Monday morning.

  She bit her bottom lip. Was she nervous?

  Try sitting where I am, sweetheart!

  She set her cell phone on the table. “We’re scheduled to appear in front of Judge Kowalski in fifteen minutes.” To her credit, there was no fear in her voice.

  “Great.” There might have been some fear in his. There was no time now to call the lawyer he’d fired at the end of the summer. “Last month, Judge Kowalski told me to settle down, get married, and stay out of trouble.” After his backup started a brawl at a club.

  “I guess you didn’t take his advice.” Ms. Thomas opened a folder and flipped through the pages. “Sadly, the getting married part would’ve helped. Judge Kowalski is notoriously softer on family men.” Her fingers—long, slender, ringless—drummed over his arrest report.

  She flipped the folder closed with a sigh, slid her readers down her nose and examined him over the top of those black rims like the university librarian the first
time Clinton had asked for a reference book on aerospace engineering. “Tell me what we’re dealing with. The truth.”

  “It’s nothing.” Nothing he was going to share with someone he hadn’t hired.

  “So there were no drugs?”

  “No, ma’am.” As quarterback of the Wolves, Clinton found no time or interest or purpose in doing anything like that.

  “No naked women?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “No taunting, blind punches thrown, resisting arrest…?” She blinked at him expectantly. He was in jail, after all.

  “Well…” Clinton was going to have to tell her something beyond what she could read in the arrest report. “Here’s the thing…”

  Ms. Thomas pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Guilty or not?”

  “What?”

  “Were you guilty of breaking and entering the county impound lot?” She stared at him as if she was ready to pack up her little leather briefcase and leave him in jail.

  “I was trying to get to my car.”

  “Which had been towed after you were cited for street racing on Friday.” She checked the time on her cell phone. “What was so important that you had to show up at the impound lot at two a.m., be refused access to your car, and sneak onto the lot?” She did begin packing her things then—cell phone, pencil, file folder.

  The eggs in Clinton’s stomach performed an illegal motion.

  “The judge will want to know if you were hiding drugs in the car. That’s how this looks—like police missed the drugs when the car was impounded and you went back to retrieve them, got upset when you were refused access, punched a tow truck driver and resisted arrest.”

  Clinton wished his backup quarterback Lewis Stevens hadn’t confessed he’d hidden a baggy with Viagra beneath the passenger seat of Clinton’s impounded race car. He wished he’d told Lewis off after the nightclub incident, and found a good woman to settle down with like the judge recommended. “Things got out of hand the other night.”

 

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