An Aspen Creek Christmas (Aspen Creek Crossroads Book 4)

by Roxanne Rustand

“Nice place you have here,” he said as he surveyed the warm amber walls and abundance of multipaned windows looking out into the timber.

  “It’s a mess right now. We got back from the airport pretty late last night.”

  “Beautiful country.”

  “I’ve got ten fenced acres, with state forest surrounding the house on three sides.” She perched stiffly on the arm of the upholstered chair opposite his, still avoiding his eyes. “This is a perfect place to raise the kids. There’s lots of room to play.”

  He ignored her pointed tone. “After coming up your road, I’m glad I chose an SUV instead of a sedan at the airport. You must not get much traffic up here.”

  She didn’t return his smile. “There are only a few homes on Spruce Road. I’m at the end of the line, actually. Public access to the government preserve is south of here. But I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to discuss real estate.”

  “No.” He’d rehearsed his speech during the flight north. Weighed different approaches. Honed his logic, to best make his points clear and get this done as efficiently as possible.

  If only he’d returned to Dallas a few weeks sooner, before Cynthia’s injury, the children’s transition into his care would have gone smoothly. But from the steely glint in Hannah’s eyes, he already knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  His conversations with Cynthia and social services in Dallas had made it clear that the situation was now far more complicated.

  Maybe the children hadn’t had time to settle in and bond with her, but Hannah had been granted temporary custody and had already brought the children north. He couldn’t legally swoop in and whisk them back to Texas now—even though it was the right thing to do.

  Unless he could convince her that it would be best for everyone involved. And why wouldn’t she be relieved? The Hannah he remembered had been flighty, irresponsible. Surely she would understand that if he took the kids, her life would be a lot easier.

  She crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest. “Well?”

  “I’m here to see Molly and Cole.”

  “Because...?”

  “They’re my niece and nephew,” he said easily, “just as they are yours.”

  “You’ve missed them a lot, I’m sure.” Her eyes narrowed. “Since you’ve seen them so often.”

  The ever-present phantom pain in his right arm began to pulse in deep, stabbing waves in response to his rising tension. “I’ve been overseas in the military. As you probably know.”

  “But you never went home to see your family? Not even,” she added in a measured tone, her gaze fixed on his, “when the kids were born? Or your own brother’s funeral? At least, I didn’t see you there.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  He hadn’t been able to arrange for leave in time to fly back from the Middle East for the christenings. And as for the double funeral this spring...

  He flinched as a cascade of images slammed through his brain. Gunfire. Explosions. Screams and blood and wrenching pain. And, finally, blessed darkness. That first long, hard and drug-fogged month at Walter Reed had left him incapable of anything more than simply existing.

  “The kids say they’ve never met you.”

  “I saw Molly when she was toddler, and I made it back when Cole was starting to walk, but they were probably too young to remember. I plan to make that up to them, though.”

  “By finally finding time to visit them way up here?” The veiled note of sarcasm in Hannah’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Actually, now that I’m stateside, I want to take them back to Texas, where they belong.”

  “No.” Her eyes flashed fire and she shook her head decisively. “I don’t think so.”

  She’d definitely changed.

  When he’d spent those three weeks with Hannah years ago, she’d been a fun, lighthearted nineteen-year-old with a sense of adventure and daring that matched his own.

  Impulsive and giddy, she’d dared him to go cliff diving at the reservoir and had matched him shot for shot at a gun range. She’d invited him on five-mile runs in the moonlight, after the oppressive heat of those Texas summer days had faded.

  She’d also been impetuous and immature, he’d realized in retrospect, though at the time he’d been sure she was his soul mate—if there was such a thing. He hadn’t wanted to miss a minute of her company during the brief time he’d been stateside.

  But now, instead of a sparkling sense of fun in her eyes, he saw only keen intelligence, absolute determination and a heartfelt wish that he would simply disappear.

  After what he’d done to her, he expected nothing more.

  But that didn’t mean he was going to give in. No matter how difficult it was going to be, he owed it to Rob to make sure his kids were raised right, and were raised where they belonged.

  “You do know that your custody is just temporary.”

  “That doesn’t mean it will end. I spent considerable time with the children’s caseworker, my Texas lawyer and in court. Even in a situation like this, involving out-of-state custody, the children’s welfare and happiness are still paramount. So we’ll have home visits and interviews by a caseworker after thirty days to evaluate how the kids are doing. Then again at three and six months—at which time I will petition for permanent custody and ultimately adopt them, if Molly and Cole agree.”

  He ground his teeth. Perhaps the nineteen-year-old he’d dated had grown up—but she was not the right person to take on this responsibility. “Clearly, there are lots of uncertainties. Is it fair to get them settled clear up here, when they’ll need to move again?”

  “That won’t be the case.”

  He cleared his throat. “We need to straighten out this situation, the sooner the better. I honestly think they’d be better off coming back to Texas with me. You’d be free of responsibility, and they could be back in a familiar school, with their friends. Close to relatives and—”

  Her smile vanished. “Close to what other relatives? Cynthia? Who didn’t want to deal with them? And their uncle Ethan? Who travels the world? Who else is there to give them consistent day-to-day time and attention? Your dad is in a residential facility. Your mom and grandfather are gone. Would you need to hire a nanny for the months you’re away?”

  “What can you offer them?”

  “A stable home. A loving home in the country with lots of animals and a huge fenced yard. I have lots of close friends with children they can play with. A warm church family. This is a friendly small town, where people know each other well and watch out for each other. Good schools. And,” she added, meeting his eyes squarely, “I work at the Aspen Creek Clinic, so they’ll have the best of medical care. I can guarantee it.”

  “It seems you’ve given this some thought.”

  “Since the day of the accident—not just when you showed up at my door. The kids don’t even know you, Ethan. I heard Cole asking who you were and wondering why you’d never visited—at least that he could remember. Anyway, I’m their godmother—which ought to tell you something about their parents’ wishes.”

  He snorted at that. “And I’m their godfather, so I guess we’re even.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe it. No one ever mentioned a thing about that. You certainly weren’t at the christenings.”

  “I was stationed out of the country and couldn’t make it back in time. I guess I was never able to make it back for anything important,” he admitted with a twinge of regret. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t make up for lost time. And I plan to, even if it means that we need to take this back to court.”

  Hannah flung a hand in the air to silence him and glanced over her shoulder.

  A little boy in Batman pajamas suddenly appeared in the arched doorway that probably led to the bedrooms, his hand on a white-faced golden retriever.
He blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the wall of windows facing the driveway and forest beyond.

  Hannah immediately went to him, kneeled and gave him a hug. “Good morning, sweetie. Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

  He rubbed his eyes and gave Ethan a brief, blank look, then regarded her with an achingly solemn expression. “Do we have to go back on the plane now?”

  “No, of course not.” She rested a gentle hand on his cheek. “Do you remember what your great-aunt Cynthia said before you left Texas?”

  “She said we had to come here.” His lower lip trembled and his eyes welled with tears. “But Mommy and Daddy are there, and our toys, and everything. And I gotta go back.”

  Chapter Two

  Her heart breaking at Cole’s grief and confusion, Hannah briefly closed her eyes. Lord, please help me say the right things and help him understand. He’s so very young for all of this to happen.

  “Your mommy and daddy will love you forever and ever, and would want to be with you more than anything,” she said softly. “But they’re in heaven now, sweetheart. When you grow very old and go to heaven, you’ll be with them again, I promise.”

  She rested her hands gently on his shoulders and nodded toward Ethan. “But you have relatives on earth who love you very much, like your uncle Ethan and me. We want to make sure you are safe, and happy. And that you’ll get to do all the fun things boys like to do.”

  She bit her lower lip, wanting to tell him that she would be the one to keep him safe and happy forever. But with Ethan lurking in a chair across the room, she couldn’t risk adding more hurt to the little boy’s life.

  Would she even stand a chance against Ethan and his aunt if they challenged her custody in court? Could she afford enough legal representation to stop them?

  “Your toys are in those boxes by the front door, and I see you made friends with Maisie,” she continued with a smile. “Did I tell you that there are lots of other friends here for you to meet?”

  He met her eyes then dropped his gaze to the floor.

  “Bootsie, the basset hound, is sleeping over there on the kitchen floor and the kitties by the fridge are Eenie, Meanie—the most playful one—and Moe. And outside I have some really fun surprises to show you once you get dressed and have some breakfast.” She tipped her head toward the suitcases. “Do you want to pick out some clothes for today or should I?”

  He lifted a shoulder in a faint shrug, so she dug through his suitcase and found jeans and a bright red sweatshirt. “Can you get dressed all by yourself?”

  At that, his lower lip stuck out. “I’m six. Anybody in first grade can do that.”

  She chuckled. “Of course they can. So here you go, buddy. You can change in your room, okay? And I’ll go check on your sister. Maybe she’s ready to wake up, too.”

  After he dressed and she’d settled him at the counter with a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice, Hannah knocked lightly on Molly’s door and stepped just inside when she heard no answer.

  The eleven-year-old was dressed—in her clothes from yesterday—and huddled in the corner by the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees.

  Hannah dropped to the floor next to her. “Tough morning, with all of these changes,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I want to go home.” Molly bit her lower lip. “But I don’t know where that is anymore.”

  “You must feel like a leaf blowing in the wind. From Texas to Oklahoma for a year, then back to Texas last April. Right?”

  “’Cause Dad kept losing his jobs,” Molly said bitterly. “But he said things would be better if we went back to Texas. He promised.”

  Glancing through the open bedroom door, Hannah saw Ethan shift in his chair and frown at Molly’s words. Had he known that little detail about his shiftless brother? About all the promises, all of the failures?

  Probably not. At Cole’s christening, her sister Dee had mentioned that Ethan rarely came back to Texas when on leave, and Rob had been adept at covering his failures with bluster and bravado.

  With so little contact with his family, Ethan somehow imagined he should be the one to raise these kids? If he was like his brother, it would mean just one more chapter marked with disappointment in Molly’s and Cole’s lives.

  “If you ever miss being with your great-aunt Cynthia, you can call her anytime. Or even visit her when she feels better.”

  “I don’t miss her. Just home.” Molly swallowed hard. “But now everything there is gone and there’s no way we can go back. It would never be the same.” Molly glared at Hannah. “You won’t ever be our mom. I’ll never call you that.”

  “Of course not. When you were little, you called me Auntie Hannah.” Hannah rested a comforting hand on Molly’s, but the child jerked her hand away. “You can call me Aunt Hannah or just Hannah. Does that sound okay?”

  Molly gave a faint, dismissive shrug.

  “Sweetheart, I loved my sister very much, and I don’t want to take her place. I just want you to be happy again someday.”

  “Then I need to be with my old friends at school. Not here.” Molly dropped her forehead to her upraised knees.

  With all the times her family had moved in the past three years, Hannah knew the poor girl had barely had the time to make new friends before changing schools and starting over. Though she wasn’t ready to hear it, Aspen Creek would be her first chance to actually put down roots.

  “Speaking of friends, I have some for you to meet—right here.”

  Molly shuddered. “I’m not staying and I don’t want to meet anyone.”

  Hannah rose. “I think you’ll feel differently in a moment. After breakfast, we’ll have some introductions. Okay?”

  “I don’t like breakfast.”

  Hannah had known there’d be plenty of problems ahead, and that choosing her battles would be the key to making this work. Today’s breakfast just wasn’t one of them.

  * * *

  Cole finished his cereal, then swiveled in circles on his bar stool several times before pulling to a stop and pinning his gaze on Ethan. “You’re my uncle?”

  Ethan nodded.

  Cole’s eyes narrowed. “I never met you.”

  “That’s because I’m usually very far away.” Ethan cleared his throat. Did he explain that he was Rob’s brother or would mentioning the kid’s dad make him cry?

  He’d always been uneasy around children, never having a clue what to say. If he upset the boy, would it make everything even more difficult in the future?

  He definitely didn’t want to mess this up on the first day.

  He summoned a smile. “You did meet me, Cole...but you were just a little guy then.”

  From Cole’s stubborn expression, he wasn’t buying it. “If you’re my uncle, how come you didn’t come see us all the time like Hannah? She came lots of times on a plane, and even brought us presents. Every time.”

  “Well, I couldn’t come to see you often because I’m a soldier. So I’ve been gone a lot, way on the other side of the world.”

  “Shooting guns and stuff like on TV?” The boy’s eyes widened with worry and a touch of fear. “Do you kill people for real?”

  “Uh...” He searched for the right thing to say to the boy, who slid off his stool and backed up beside Hannah, and figured a vague answer was best. “Soldiers do a lot of things—not just fight.”

  Cole considered that for a moment, his expression still wary. “So I could take you to show-and-tell, with your guns and everything?”

  Ethan shuddered at that. “That would not be a good idea, buddy. Guns aren’t safe—especially at school.”

  He looked up and found Hannah glaring at him, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes as cold as steel.

  “You can thank your aunt Cynthia for how he feels a
bout you. Apparently she told Molly and Cole that you were a tough guy. One who would really straighten them out. If you ever showed up, anyway.”

  “Why on earth would she—” He heaved a sigh, suddenly knowing all too well.

  Even when he and Rob were kids, she’d been a stickler about her designer clothes, her elegant lifestyle. She’d always watched them like a hawk during their rare visits to her pristine home. Having Rob’s two kids underfoot all those months had probably been unbelievably stressful for a woman who had always prized perfection over warm family emotions.

  Ethan cleared his throat, searching for a different topic. “So, do you, um, like to ride bikes?”

  “Don’t got one.” The child’s face fell, his eyes filled with stark grief. “Mom said she’d get me a bike after we moved. But she died.”

  “I—I’m...” The boy’s words felt like a fist to Ethan’s gut and he floundered to a halt. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  Knowing Rob, there probably hadn’t been any extra money for a new bike anyway, even though Ethan had loaned him a lot of money over the years.

  His brother had always had just one more emergency, one more bout of overdue bills, and promises that it wouldn’t happen again. And, always, a case of amnesia when it came to paying any of it back.

  “I’m not batting a thousand here, am I?” Ethan muttered, looking up at Hannah.

  “Nope.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “And just in case you haven’t noticed, never think this situation is easy.”

  Cole looked between them, clearly confused by their exchange.

  “Time for a new topic,” Hannah muttered as she put Cole’s bowl and cup in the sink. She smiled down at him. “We have our first snowstorm of the year predicted on Sunday, so right now I think we should be shopping for sleds. But come spring I’ll make sure you and your sister have new bikes. Now—are you ready for a surprise?”

  His eyes round and serious, Cole nodded.

  Molly appeared in the kitchen, her expression dour, and Ethan felt his heart clench at seeing her long, curly brown hair and big green eyes. Cole was fair and blond like his mom, but Molly was nearly identical to her dad at that same age—even down to her stubborn chin, the sprinkle of freckles over her nose and slender frame.