An Aspen Creek Christmas (Aspen Creek Crossroads Book 4)

by Roxanne Rustand

  “Really?”

  “He asked if I was interested in a job.” Ethan’s mouth lifted in a wry grin. “Second offer I’ve had this week.”

  Well, she hadn’t expected that. Hannah frowned. “Both here in town?”

  “Devlin’s is, but he isn’t in a rush for an answer. The other offer came out of the blue—an old friend with a security firm in Dallas, and he’s in a real bind. He needs someone right away, so he wants me to come down to talk in person.”

  “Really.” Was it a real job or just a good excuse for a fast departure to Texas?

  “No idea what I’m going to do, but it feels good to have offers, anyway.”

  “Interesting timing,” she murmured.

  “Why do you say that?”

  She thought about the growing feelings between them—on her part, anyway. All of the time they’d spent together these past weeks.

  And now, just like thirteen years ago, he was planning to leave. At least this time she had some warning.

  Mission accomplished, she thought bitterly. He hadn’t been here for her. With his aunt’s lawyers and his newly established relationships with the kids, he’d likely get exactly what he wanted.

  “Aren’t you concerned about being here when the caseworker comes? I thought that was one of the main reasons you were staying in town all this time,” she snapped.

  “No. The main reason was to finally get to know my niece and nephew. After losing their parents, they deserve better than some absentee uncle who never shows up.” He cocked an eyebrow and studied Hannah for a long moment. “You don’t believe I’m coming back, do you?”

  “Why would I ever think that?” Hannah snorted. “The sad part is that the kids really do care for you, and I can’t figure out what you’re planning to do. Just take off and leave them feeling heartbroken? Or maybe you’re going off to finagle a victory with a family court judge in Dallas.”

  “And that’s what you think of me,” he said flatly. “I thought we had more between us this time. Something really good.” He rocked back on his heels. “Guess I was wrong.”

  “I guess we both were,” she said stiffly.

  “I am coming back, but believe what you want to, Hannah.”

  Emotion clogged Hannah’s throat as he gave each of the kids a quick hug then headed off down the sidewalk without a backward glance.

  “Hannah,” Cole called out when he reached the front of the line. Feeling as if she were in a daze, Hannah numbly went to join him.

  Pastor Mark smiled kindly and rested his palm on Maisie’s head. “And who is this fine dog?”

  “She’s Maisie. She’s my best friend, and she’s old. Can you help her?”

  Pastor Mark blinked. “I sure wish I could, but no one on earth can make her young again. We can pray that she stays healthy and strong, and has a long life, though.”

  Cole nodded, closing his eyes as the pastor spoke his words of prayer and blessing. Then he tugged at Mark’s sleeve before he could turn to the next person in line. “We have another dog in the car. Someone was really mean to her and we’re trying to make her well again. Can you pray for her, too?”

  After the pastor’s second prayer, Cole beamed up at Hannah. “He did it! He prayed for Maisie and Belle both!”

  She gave him a quick hug. “Now we’d better scoot so we can get back home. The wind is really coming up and it’s getting cold.”

  They hurried through the square toward the car, their shoulders hunched and chins tucked down into their collars against the biting wind.

  When she spied the Subaru, Hannah stopped abruptly. A burly man was moving around the car, peering in the windows. At the back, he glanced around as if watching out for passers-by, then he bent and appeared to be studying the dog inside the cage.

  “Who is that?” Molly said. Her voice filled with alarm. “Is he trying to take Belle?”

  “The car is locked. Wait here for a second.”

  Other people were coming up behind them on the sidewalk and heading in the same direction, providing Hannah with an extra measure of confidence. Hooking her purse strap over a shoulder, she strode boldly up to her car, her finger poised over the panic button on her keychain and her cell phone in her other hand. “This is my car. What are you doing?”

  He straightened and bared his teeth in a thin leer that displayed a missing tooth in front. Something about him made a shiver crawl down her spine.

  “I was just admirin’ that dog. No harm in that. Is it yours?”

  “I don’t care to discuss it.”

  “Well, it looks like a fine dog, and she’s looks mighty familiar. We might need to talk again real soon.” He backed away from the rear bumper. Took a long, hard look at the license plate. Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

  Hannah watched him disappear down the road before she motioned for the kids to come. As soon as they piled in the car, they were asking questions.

  “Who was he?”

  “Why was he looking in the car?”

  “Was he trying to steal something?”

  “Was he after Belle?”

  Hannah locked all of the doors and buckled her seat belt, then looked over her shoulder. “I don’t have any answers for you, but he’s gone now and we’re going home. Buckle your seat belts.”

  All the way home she went over every facet of the stranger’s appearance. Exactly what he’d said and done. Could he somehow trace her address via her license number? Police could, but he looked more like a lowlife troublemaker than anyone who had a happy relationship with the cops and could call in a favor.

  Then again, what couldn’t you find online these days? The old days of privacy and anonymity were long gone.

  Her gaze strayed to the dashboard and the mail she’d tossed there after last checking her mailbox. Leaning over, she snagged the top envelope with her fingertip and took a look at it.

  If that man had any thought of finding her, he would have no trouble at all, because her address had been in plain sight for anyone to see.

  * * *

  On Monday morning Connie knocked lightly on Hannah’s office door at the clinic and smiled. “How are things going out in the country?”

  “Really well—I hope. With just ten days until Christmas, Molly and Cole are excited about winter break, of course.”

  “Any special plans?”

  “I promised them rental skis and lessons at the local ski park, and both kids have made some friends. Now Cole joined a church youth group, so both of the kids will have a nice connection there.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it. Your place must be perfect for them—all those animals.”

  Hannah nodded. “I hope so. Molly is talking about wanting to join the 4-H club in town, so she can take the dog project with Belle and go to the obedience classes. Apparently there’s a dog show at the county fair.”

  “And Belle is that poor, neglected stray someone dumped in your yard?”

  “Yes, though there’ve been no huge miracles just yet. Molly works with her every day, but Belle has a long way to go.” Hannah gazed at the framed photograph on her desk of Molly with Belle and Cole with Maisie. “But, honestly, I think the dog has helped Molly just as much as Molly is helping her. It’s given her something to focus on, instead of her problems, and she seems happier now.”

  “I sure hope everything goes well for you with the custody situation. Those kids were blessed when they were able to move here.”

  “I pray for them every day, wanting the best for them.”

  “And how is it going with that handsome soldier of yours?”

  “He’s not mine, that’s for sure.” Hannah swallowed hard, reining in her less charitable thoughts. She hadn’t heard from him since Saturday evening. What did he deserve—her doubt or her trust?

&n
bsp; Her doubt, if she clung to common sense and past experience. She probably wouldn’t see him again until they were on opposite sides in a Dallas courtroom. Any fantasies she’d had about happily-ever-afters with Ethan had been a complete waste of time.

  “Maybe that’s something to just give over to God, too,” Connie said gently.

  “You’re right, of course. I should be trusting, not worrying. But it’s so hard to just let go. I worry every day about what will happen with the custody hearing.”

  “I still think you two should get together.” Connie winked. “That would be an easy solution.”

  “Right. But I’m not even sure where he’s going to settle down. Beth’s husband talked to him about a job here in Wisconsin, and he had an offer from a company in Dallas. Last I heard, he was flying down for an interview.”

  “Is shared custody a possibility? Like people arrange after divorce?”

  “The last thing either of us wants is such an unsettled life for these kids. Back and forth, summers and holidays, wrenching them away from their friends. The caseworkers say the court would not approve of that, in any case.”

  Connie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “So there is going to be a really hard decision coming up.”

  Hannah nodded. “The caseworker will be coming for her thirty-day home visit any day now. We were also supposed to have one at sixty and ninety days, but now I wonder if I’ll get that much time.”

  “Oh, honey—I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, but this could be the worst one of my life.”

  A piece of paper fluttered from Connie’s fingertips to the floor and she bent to pick it up. “I almost forgot. I came down to give you this. New admission in Room 202 on the hospital side. She came into the ER late last night, and this morning she’s asking to see you.”

  “I’ve got three pediatric appointments this morning starting at nine. I’ll go see her when I go to the long-term-care unit after that.”

  Connie rolled her eyes. “The nurses would probably appreciate it if you could slip over there now. This is an older lady and she’s being difficult. I believe they’re hoping you can calm her down.”

  “Is she someone we know?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m afraid you know her rather well. It’s Gladys Rexworth.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hannah knocked lightly on the door of Room 202. “It’s Hannah Dorchester. Can I come in?”

  “Please do. I want to get this over with.”

  She sounded as imperious as ever and Hannah could only imagine what the woman was upset about now. The food. The comfort of her bed. The size of her private room. Or, most likely, her old grievances that were never going to be forgotten as long as the woman breathed.

  Hannah walked in and stood at the foot of her bed. “Mrs. Rexworth.”

  Gladys made a sharp, dismissive motion with her hand. “I suppose you’ve seen my chart and know why I’m here.”

  There was certainly a lot of equipment in there. Two IV poles. A monitor tracing her respirations and cardiac rhythm. A discrete catheter tube trailing out from under the blankets to a bag hanging at the side of her bed.

  “Actually, no. You’re with a different medical group now.”

  “Surely you people look anyway—just to snoop.”

  Hannah exhaled slowly. “Strict privacy laws prevent that. Unless I’m asked to be involved in your care by the medical staff—or by you—I cannot access your chart. No one can share information about patients outside of these walls, either. So you needn’t worry. Your secrets are safe.”

  “I doubt that very much.” Gladys glowered at her. “I thought you might be planning to stop by and crow about your little victory, and I figured I’d get it over with.”

  Hannah drew a blank. “Victory? Do you mean the inspection of my rescue?”

  Gladys drew herself up in bed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  But Hannah knew that wasn’t true.

  The woman’s lips compressed in a grim line and she continued. “Never let it be said that I am too proud to admit a mistake. I guess you might have been right about my meds.”

  “If you’re being honest, then I will be, too. There was no ‘might’ about it.”

  “Yet I’d gotten along just fine for all those years.”

  “I wasn’t sure why someone had written all of those prescriptions for you. Maybe you got them from several sources. But I could not, with good judgment and concern for your safety, renew them, and no doctor in our practice would do so, either. If I remember correctly, there were some powerful sedatives and pain meds that posed serious interaction problems. And the doses were far too high.”

  “My arthritis and back pain are beyond bearing. I had to have them to just get out of bed, but no one seems to understand that.”

  “Did your new doctor agree with you?”

  Gladys sniffed. “No. I assumed you people found out who he was when my records were transferred, and you warned him.”

  “So you’ve been doing well on safer options?”

  “I couldn’t end up bed-bound with pain, so I did some research online and started asking friends who travel. I discovered that when I vacationed I could get what I needed from those storefront pharmacies in Mexico, and some of it online.”

  Hannah rocked back on her heels, appalled. “So you’ve been treating yourself without medical supervision. And your doctor probably didn’t know, so he couldn’t have known about possible drug interactions whenever he prescribed something else.”

  Gladys managed a small, stiff nod. “Which, I’m afraid, is why I ended up in the ER last night. If the EMTs hadn’t come so quickly, they say I would have died.”

  Gladys had been one of the most difficult patients Hannah had ever dealt with, but never had she wished the woman would be harmed by her own, wrong-headed opinions.

  “I’m very sorry. I hope your recovery will be swift, Gladys.” Hannah glanced at the clock on the wall. “If there isn’t anything else—”

  “Wait.”

  Hannah moved back to the foot of her bed. “Yes?”

  The woman’s jaw worked, as if her words tasted sour on her tongue. “I was foolish to risk my health. I...I should have listened to you. And I realize that because of my pride I’ve only caused trouble for myself—it takes an hour’s drive to visit my doctor, now. So I wonder if the Aspen Creek Clinic would have me back.”

  “I’ll ask the doctors, but I expect we would. Just think about it for a while, and let us know. It would be easy enough to have your records transferred.”

  Hannah shook her head in disbelief as she headed back to the clinic. Apparently, Gladys rarely experienced opposition, because she’d angrily retaliated for years over that medication issue.

  She’d bad-mouthed the Aspen Creek Clinic, the physicians and Hannah in particular. And Hannah had no doubt that she’d been the one behind the ongoing, anonymous complaints about the animal rescue.

  She’d offered no admission of guilt or apology for that.

  But the fact that she’d actually admitted she was wrong was so unbelievable—on par with a blizzard in July—that Hannah was still reeling when she reached her office.

  Nothing would surprise her after this.

  * * *

  There’d been no word from Ethan since their argument Saturday evening. Finally unable to stand the uncertainty, she’d driven past his rental cabin on Wednesday, but his truck was still gone and the lights were out. Now it was already Saturday afternoon, and his silent message was perfectly clear.

  He was done with Aspen Creek, done with her. And she should count herself blessed for having avoided becoming even more deeply involved with a man she couldn’t trust. So why did it feel as if a part of her heart
had been torn away?

  Because she was a foolish, foolish woman. One who had loved him all those years ago and apparently had never stopped.

  After dropping Cole and Molly off at church for a youth group Christmas party, Hannah stopped by the feed store for more pellets for Penelope and hurried home to work on the house, thankful that Trevor’s parents had offered to bring the kids home afterward.

  There’d been no word from the caseworker about her home visit, but with Christmas Eve next Thursday, it could be any day now. Would the woman expect a spotless kitchen? Would she grill the kids on every aspect of their lives? If one of them complained about their chores, or the school, or their friends, would that torpedo any chance that they could stay here?

  Hannah had no idea and the looming visit made her feel as jittery as if she’d had way too much espresso.

  And maybe none of her efforts would even matter.

  But it was all too believable that Ethan was down in Dallas, meeting with his aunt’s lawyers and planning his next move once the Wisconsin home visit was completed.

  She slowed the vehicle to turn into her driveway. An unfamiliar, battered pickup, its tailgate rusted to fragile lace, stood parked in front of her house. The cacophony of dogs barking inside the house was deafening, even out there.

  She frowned. Who could be here now—and where was the driver? No one had called about seeing one of the animals.

  A feeling of unease swept through her, yet she could hardly call the sheriff’s office because an unfamiliar vehicle was there. Maybe the driver was lost. Maybe this was a mom, shepherding her child through yet another school fund-raiser sale and they were looking for her out back.

  Shoving her cell phone into her jacket pocket, she eased out of her car...and froze. The burly man she’d seen looking into her car in town came around the corner of the garage. He was carrying a leash.

  She swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. “Can I help you?”

  He gave her a derisive glance then braced his hands on the garage door and stood on tiptoe to peer into the high, narrow windows of the garage. “I’m here for my dog. Where is she?”