LITMIR.BIZ

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Jenny said, “for the decorations. And we can put a big star on top, just like the one on the tree in The Night Before Christmas.”

      “I want this tree,” Mandy insisted.

      “There’s no law against having two Christmas trees,” Chrysie said. “Maybe we can leave the small one outside so that it can keep growing. We can decorate it for the birds so that they won’t go hungry for Christmas.”

      “Two Christmas trees.” Jenny was clearly impressed.

      The hum of an engine grabbed Chrysie’s attention, and she turned to see a truck making its way up the center of the freshly plowed road that led from the highway. She expected it to be Buck Miller or one of his hands, but as the vehicle got closer, her heart plunged to her toes. It was Sheriff McCain.

      She grew instantly tense, starting the all-too-familiar acid flow to her stomach and constricting her throat so that it was difficult to swallow.

      No reason to panic, she told herself. He’s just here to see the Millers. Or else he wants me to watch the boys for him. If he asks, I’ll say yes. Pretend it’s no problem. Pretend he’s no problem.

      She waved and managed a smile as he stopped a few feet from them and stepped out of his truck. It struck her how well he fit in this world of snowy isolation and rugged terrain.

      “Good morning,” she said, striving to sound at ease. “Back so soon?”

      “That’s what happens when you feed a stray. They just keep hanging around until you run them off with a well-placed broom handle.”

      “Lucky me, I have a new broom.” She turned back to the girls as he joined them. “Time to go inside and warm up.”

      “Don’t go in on my account,” Josh said. “I didn’t come to visit. I was heading up to the Millers’ house to talk to Buck about some cattle he’s selling, but I saw you and the girls outside and wondered if you were having battery trouble again.”

      “No, I have a new one.”

      “Good thinking. Guess you just decided to give the girls a holiday. I don’t blame you. I was tempted to let the boys stay home, but once they hit first grade, the teachers frown on that.”

      “I assumed school would be called off due to the weather.”

      “It’s just a little snow. Plows already have the main roads cleared. And looks like Buck took care of this one.”

      “Yes. One of his hands was out just after daybreak.”

      Jenny marched to the back door, sinking her boots as far as she could into the mounds of snow. Mandy ran over and shoved her small gloved hand in Josh’s much larger one. “I can make snow angels. You wanna watch me?”

      “Of course I do.” He raved over her abilities as she fell to her back and did a repeat of her flapping-arms routine.

      Chrysie worked on staying outwardly calm as she watched the sheriff bond with her young daughter. It seemed a natural thing to do, yet it filled her with dread.

      “I didn’t come to visit,” he said again, “but since I’m here, I sure could use a cup of coffee.”

      “Sure,” she said. “I can make a fresh pot.”

      Josh swooped Mandy onto his shoulders and started toward the back door. Chrysie’s legs felt leaden as she followed them inside.

      JOSH STUDIED CHRYSIE’S every move as she helped the girls out of their snow pants, parkas and boots. They were happy kids. She clearly adored them. Which didn’t mean a damn thing. Danny and Davy’s mother had probably loved them, too, but it hadn’t kept her from living in a world so depraved he didn’t even like to think about it.

      Mandy pulled off her mittens and held her hands out in front of her. “They’re still cold.”

      Chrysie held them in hers for a second. “How about some hot chocolate to warm you up?”

      “With marshmallows?” Mandy asked.

      “Marshmallows and a cookie, just as soon as I get the coffee started.”

      Josh hung his jacket on one of the hooks near the back door. “Actually, the hot chocolate sounds good.”

      “Then it’s hot chocolate all around.”

      Josh had given little thought to how he’d handle this, mostly trusting his instincts to guide the conversation while he asked enough questions to give him a feel for whether or not Chrysie was on the run.

      He watched as she measured cocoa, sugar and milk and dumped the ingredients into a small saucepan. “I didn’t know anyone still made hot chocolate the old-fashioned way.”

      “I don’t always. I have instant on hand, as well.”

      “So what’s the special occasion?”

      “Snow.”

      “I guess you didn’t get much of that back in—where was it you’re from? Texas?”

      “No.” She kept her back to him. “Actually, I’m from Mississippi, but I haven’t lived there since graduating college. My husband and I moved around a lot.”

      “Was that because of his job?”

      “Right.”

      “What kind of business was he in?”

      “He was a helicopter pilot with the Army.”

      “I had some friends who flew helicopters for the Army.”

      He would.

      “Where did your husband do his training?”

      “In…in Alabama. Near Mobile.”

      “Really? I didn’t know there was an Army base there.”

      “No, you’re right. It wasn’t Alabama. It was somewhere in…in south Texas. I don’t know where. It was before we were married.”

      The question had her flustered. He walked to the counter so that he could see her face while she worked. “How long has he been dead?”

      “Almost three years. Mandy was just a baby. Jennifer was only two.” Finally she looked up and met his gaze. “I don’t like talking about this, Sheriff. My husband’s death was a very unhappy time in my life that I’m trying to put behind me.”

      “I can understand that. I’m sorry I asked.” He was—and becoming more disturbed by the second. This wasn’t just about Chrysie. It was about Jenny and Mandy and what would happen to them if their mother wound up in jail. They’d be faced with the same kind of trauma Danny and Davy had dealt with, except there wouldn’t be a father to step in and love them.

      “How many Christmas trees are you going to have?” Mandy asked.

      “One.”

      “We’re going to have two. One for the birds and one with a big star.”

      “Boy, two trees. That’s pretty cool.” So Mandy was three, Jenny was five—exactly the same ages the Harwell girls would be. If Chrysie was on the run, she should have lied about that, but that would have meant having her girls confused about their ages and starting them in school at the wrong age. She was probably too good a mother for that.

      Chrysie filled two cups when the chocolate was little more than lukewarm. She waited until it was steaming to fill the other two colorful pottery mugs. Each cup received two fluffy marshmallows. The girls got a sugar cookie with their drink. He got a piece of nuked pie. He forked a bite when they’d all sat down at the kitchen table, though he’d lost his appetite.

      “Are you going to Mississippi to see your grandparents for Christmas, Jenny, or are you going to stay up here and have a white Christmas with us?”

      “My grandma and grandpa are in heaven with my

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