An Aspen Creek Christmas

by Roxanne Rustand

  Barely able to contain a smile, Hannah silently withdrew and headed for some friends in line for coffee.

  This evening wouldn’t change everything for Molly, but it was definitely a start.

  Thank you, Lord, for leading me to come here tonight, even though we were late. And thank you, thank you, for bringing Molly a chance to finally make some friends.

  * * *

  Ethan had been watching the clock in his hospital room since four in the morning, trying to forget Hannah’s sweet, unexpected kiss whenever he wasn’t counting the minutes until the doc made his rounds and released him.

  At least the discharge papers were on his bedside table, but he still needed Hannah to spring him from jail.

  Which led him right back to thinking about Hannah’s kiss.

  He was sure she’d meant it as a friendly good-night and nothing more.

  But trying to forget the warmth of her lips on his was like trying to ignore fireworks on the Fourth of July, because now his thoughts were spinning with a kaleidoscope of memories of those weeks they’d shared years ago.

  Since his arrival in Wisconsin he’d carefully focused on the children. Tried to avoid the inadvertent meeting of accidental glances. Dodged the unintentional brush of a hand that might reawaken the fierce chemistry that had once been between them.

  He snorted under his breath. It hadn’t taken a touch or a glance or a casual kiss. Just arriving that first day and seeing Hannah at her front door had brought it all rushing back, and more. She, on the other hand, had seemed unaffected—beyond her deep concern about the children.

  After seven months in Ward 57 in Walter Reed, every whiff of disinfectant, every squeal of med cart wheels on the polished floors, every glimpse of a uniform set his teeth on edge and made his stomach twist.

  If not for the fact that he had no car here at the hospital and no keys for his cabin, he would’ve left the hospital hours ago, as soon as the hall lights dimmed and the third shift came on duty.

  At nine o’clock sharp his cell phone rang. Expecting Hannah, he did a double take at the Dallas phone number on the screen. David Benson, a high school acquaintance who had joined the marines the same time Ethan had chosen the army.

  “Hey, buddy, I heard you had some tough luck.”

  Ethan leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t taken the call. “I’m good.”

  “Not what I heard from Tommy Joe. He says you were in quite a blast last spring. Lost some of your moving parts.”

  Ethan let his thumb hover over the off button on his phone, then reconsidered with a sigh. “I’m a bionic man, my nephew says. Just a hand.”

  David whistled. “Tough luck.”

  “That would be the guys who didn’t get to come home. I’m all right.”

  “I s’pose it’s too early to say if you want to get back to active duty.”

  “Some do, with prosthetics,” Ethan shot back. The defensive note in his voice made him cringe. “I’m not yet sure about what I’ll do.”

  “True enough, but I wanted to run something past you, buddy.” David cleared his throat. “I didn’t re-up this last time around. I wanted to be closer to my kids. See them grow up. Another marine and I have a business here in Dallas, and we need a couple more guys with the right military background—ASAP. I thought of you first.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Personal protection. Bodyguards. High-security courier services, and so forth.”

  Intrigued, Ethan leaned forward. “You’ve actually got this business running?”

  “Six months. We can’t keep up, to tell the truth. Both of us are working fifty-sixty-hour weeks and have turned away business, so it’s time to expand. Interested?”

  A few weeks ago Ethan would have said no. Getting back into active duty was the only thing he knew. The only thing he was good at. But now, with Molly and Cole and the custody issue, he was no longer sure.

  And then there was Hannah.

  Where their relationship was heading was still a guess—he doubted she would give him her trust easily after he’d so cruelly jilted her years ago, and every time he saw her, he regretted his stupidity even more. How could he have thrown away something that precious?

  But he still needed to think about career options. And, if he found there was no chance at all with her, he wouldn’t care what he did or where he had to live. Nothing else would matter.

  “So this job would be in Dallas?” he asked cautiously.

  “For now, but we’re thinking about expanding into other big-city markets.”

  “Minneapolis–St. Paul?”

  “Very likely.”

  “Wisconsin?”

  “Uh, maybe. The bigger cities might be possible, if that’s something you’d want to develop sometime in the future.”

  Ethan grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the bedside table and began taking notes as David launched into an extensive description of the business, its clientele and future plans.

  “So,” David said after pulling in a slow breath. “Sound interesting to you?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I’m going out of town next week, but my schedule is open on the fifteenth and I could meet with you that afternoon if you can get down here.”

  “I’ll give it some serious thought.”

  At a light rap on the door Ethan ended the call and straightened, expecting Hannah.

  A middle-aged woman in a dark skirt and cranberry sweater walked in instead. She approached his bedside and briskly shook his hand. “Georgie Anderson, Social Worker.”

  He sank back against the raised head of his bed, wishing he’d feigned sleep, but he didn’t have the heart to order her out of his room. She looked like the quintessential cookie-baking grandma.

  “I understand you had a bit of a fall yesterday, but you’re going home today. Wonderful news,” she said. “You’re feeling back to normal?”

  Like he would admit to anything that might keep him here longer? “Yes. All good.”

  “To get right down to it, Dr. McLaren asked me to come by before you leave. He wanted me to drop off some brochures about the local veteran’s support groups, as well as the VA clinic in Maplewood.”

  Now that he looked a little closer, she was more like a ruler-toting schoolmarm than someone’s sweet old grandma. He sighed, gestured toward his bedside table. “I’ll look at it later.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that. Dr. McLaren is concerned about you. Not just your concussion yesterday, but about what you’ve been through in the service. When you two talked last night, you were open about the problems you face with PTSD and said that you’ve rejected help in the past.”

  He’d said that? He blinked. The woman’s voice faded into the background as he mentally reviewed the hours since he’d been brought into the ER. Sure, he’d been a little foggy—not uncommon after even a mild concussion. But when had he ever talked about his PTSD—much less to a veritable stranger?

  She rested a hand on his forearm and drew him back to attention. “You aren’t the only one facing this. One of our groups has a member who suffered for twenty years on his own. Refused to acknowledge that burden. Refused help. He says he never realized what was wrong in his life—he just figured he was a failure at jobs, at relationships. He never knew he could feel so much better, until he finally ditched his stubborn pride and began dealing with his problems. He’s now the leader of the Saturday morning group here at the hospital, in case you’re interested.”

  Her offer was calm and professional, but the glint in her eyes held a different message.

  So was he finally ready to try?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hannah checked the slow cooker, with chili simmering away in the kitchen, turned on the oven light to check on the corn br
ead, then returned to the living room and studied the freshly cut Christmas tree.

  She’d been right.

  With the lure of finally going to the sledding hill at Aspen Creek Park, Molly and Cole had converged on a nicely shaped blue spruce within fifteen minutes, had taken turns sawing at its base and had both helped drag it to the house.

  The sledding hadn’t lasted long given the minus-five-degree windchill. But they’d both stuck it out for five runs down the longest hill before happily heading back to the SUV to defrost with a thermos of hot cocoa on the way home.

  At a knock on the door Cole ran to the front and peered out the sidelight window. “It’s Uncle Ethan!”

  Cole unlocked the door and opened it wide. “We went sledding! And we got a tree!”

  Ethan laughed as he shucked off his boots and coat and brought a square bakery box into the kitchen and handed it to Hannah. “Dessert—since you invited me for supper. I hope someone here likes chocolate.”

  “No doubt about it.” She eyed him closely. He’d looked pale and drawn when she’d picked him up at the hospital and had taken him back to his cabin this morning, but at least now his color was better. “How’s that head of yours?”

  “Fine.”

  “No headache?”

  “I’m good.”

  Which was a non-answer if she’d ever heard one, but it was his business, not hers. “Glad to hear it, but I hope you’ve been taking things easy.”

  He winked at her. “Followed doctor’s orders, as always.”

  His dimples deepened whenever he smiled, and that twinkle in his eyes made her heart take an extra beat. It was getting harder to remember that he might be polite and friendly, but he was staying in town “at least until Christmas,” because he wanted to connect with Molly and Cole and then try to gain full custody. It wasn’t because he was her friend...or anything more.

  So why on earth had she kissed him last evening at the hospital? She still couldn’t get that out of her thoughts.

  It didn’t take much analysis, she realized. She was drawn to him more now than she’d ever been. An indefinable magnetism hummed between them like an invisible force.

  But it was more than that. With every passing day that he was here, she found more things about him that drew her. His kindness. His warm affection for the kids. The way he was so willing to help out with anything—even to the point of taking a terrified stray to the vet clinic.

  He was so different from the guy he’d been at twenty-one. His years in the military had matured him into a solid, dependable man who seemed trustworthy. Safe. Could things between them actually work out this time?

  He turned back to living room and studied the tree. “Where was that one hiding yesterday? It’s perfect.”

  Molly, sprawled on the floor in front of the fireplace, looked up from her homework. “Aunt Hannah said we had to wait to decorate until you came.”

  “Yeah. ’Cause you’re taller and can reach the high branches.” Cole went to a stack of red boxes with green lids. “Can we start now?”

  “Supper first.” Hannah set four salads and the corn bread on the round oak table in the kitchen. “Have a chair, then we’ll say grace before I bring the chili over. Would anyone like to lead the prayer?”

  After a moment of silence, she reached for Molly’s hand on her left and Ethan’s hand on her right. When everyone was connected, she bowed her head. “Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful day. For Ethan’s good health and release from the hospital. For the friends Molly has made, and the ones whom Cole will meet soon. For this meal, and for the coming celebration of your birth. In Jesus’s name we pray, amen.”

  Just as she finished serving the chili, someone rapped on the front door. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

  Ethan followed, hovering protectively at her shoulder, a soldier ready to take out an enemy. “I can answer the door, if you’d like.”

  Through the window she saw a portly man with a briefcase and a clipboard in the crook of his arm. “It’s all right. I know why he’s here.” She hesitated then opened the door. “Can I help you?”

  “Fred Larsen. I’m here to follow up on a complaint regarding your rescue facilities.” His wary gaze lifted to survey Ethan. “Uh, if it’s not...um, inconvenient.”

  “I’ve been expecting you.” Hannah dredged up a smile. “I know you can’t say, but I’ve no doubt it was called in by Gladys Rexworth. She has never actually set foot on this property, but she heard about the fire here and probably made assumptions. She told me that she would be calling your office.”

  Apparently satisfied that the chubby man was harmless, Ethan left to rejoin the kids at the kitchen table. The inspector watched him go, then seemed to recover his composure. “Can I see your animal facilities, please?”

  “No problem at all. If you haven’t had supper, you’re welcome to join us.”

  “Thank you, but I’d better proceed.” He referred to his clipboard. “I’ll need to see your records regarding vet care, intakes and adoptions. But first—how many animals are here right now?”

  “Three cats and two dogs living in the house. There was a fire in the small barn out back last Sunday, attributed to an electrical short. The inspector thought it was probably due to mice chewing on a wire.”

  “Any animal deaths?”

  “It was basically a pony shed and hay storage, and a place to keep three chickens that were left here. They’re all fine—just temporarily in the garage. We’re also starting to think about fund-raising for a centralized shelter in town.”

  The man’s eyebrows rose. “Wait—you have chickens and a pony in the garage?”

  “Plus twelve puppies and their mother, who was dropped off here a few days before she whelped. Obviously, I’m not parking my vehicle in the garage anymore. Someone dropped off another dog on Monday, but she’s at the vet right now, in terrible shape.”

  “She’ll be euthanized?”

  “Absolutely not. She’s emaciated, and she was clearly abused, but she’ll be fine with good care. If you want to check in on her, she’s at Dr. Leighton’s clinic in town.”

  “I see.”

  Hannah led the way into the garage. He walked from one pen to the next, noting food and water dishes and studying the dimensions of the pens. “This all is fine, but the regulations for dogs also require daily exercise and contact with people. How are you handling that?”

  “The backyard is fully fenced, so I turn the adult dogs out four times a day, and the pony has a small pasture. The pups have been going out with just their mom, unless the weather is bad. Socialization is inside the house with me, and now, also with my niece and nephew.” She smiled. “When we go back into the house, I’ll let Lucy go outside and show you what we do with the pups. Are you done out here?”

  He wrote a few more notes on his paper then nodded.

  “My big-ring notebooks for shelter activities are on the kitchen counter by the phone. Feel free to look through them all. I’ll be inside in just a second.”

  A few minutes later she peeked through the kitchen door. “Here they come—everyone ready?”

  Cole and Molly had finished their supper and were back in the living room with Ethan. Giggling, they both sat on the area rug as the flood of puppies poured through the door.

  Startled, the inspector took a step back, then he started to laugh. “What a family!”

  “I think they’re thrilled to have the kids living here now, and it should help them be better family dogs when they are available for adoption. They’ll already be used to cats and kids.”

  “So when will you add them to your website?”

  “Usually at eight weeks, but that falls during the week before Christmas and I don’t want to risk them ending up as impulse buys for presents. Too many of those poor dogs end up back in shelters
.”

  He finished paging through the notebooks then shook her hand. “I think you’re doing a great job, here. The animals are all at excellent weight. The pens are clean and comfortable. Congratulations on a job well done.”

  After he left, Molly gently swept aside the puppies wrestling on her lap and went to the kitchen, where Hannah was eating her chili at the counter. “What did he mean about your website?”

  “Well, we need to spread the word about adoptable animals, so three of us in town maintain a website showing all of the available animals. People can call or email if they are interested in one in particular, then make an appointment to see it.”

  “Just like that? They pick one and take it home?”

  Hannah smiled at her concern. “It’s definitely not just like that, I promise. They have to fill out a long form and prove they either have a fenced yard or use a buried fence and radio collars to keep dogs at home. We never want to send a dog to a place where it will spend its life chained outside. That’s horrible. Dogs are pack animals and crave being with people or each other.”

  “Wow. Can I see that website?”

  Hannah put her chili bowl in the sink. “Sure.”

  With a few clicks she reached the Aspen Creek Rescue site. “Here...do you want to look through it?”

  Molly settled on a tall stool at the breakfast bar and wandered through the site, then clicked on Available Animals. She looked up at Hannah in horror. “Penelope is here. You can’t send her away!”

  “That’s what we do, sweetie. Keep strays or discarded animals safe, and rehabilitate the ones that need a new start. Then we try to find them a forever home. It’s really hard sometimes. But it’s good to know when an animal will finally be with someone who loves them.”

  Frowning, Molly scrolled down farther. “And Lucy? Her puppies? You can’t!”

  “If you check closer, you’ll see they are listed as unavailable until after January first, not now. Just think about it, Molly. Eventually that would be a total of thirteen big dogs. How could I ever keep them all? It would be a big pack eating me out of house and home. And none would have the same love and attention as if they had their very own family.”