“Hey, guys.” Keeley sauntered over and pulled up a fourth chair to join them. “I’m so glad you stopped in. How’s everything going?”
Cole shyly ducked his head. Molly traced her finger across her cookie and didn’t look up.
“I am so thrilled to have these two with me,” Hannah said. “I hope I can find lots of fun things for them to do. Any ideas?”
“Let me think. You’ve been on a sleigh ride?”
“But it had wheels,” Cole said, taking another bite of his cookie.
“Then that’s what you should do, now that we have snow. It’s only a few days until the weekend and the sleigh rides start again.” Keeley worried at her lower lip with her teeth, thinking. “The kids at church will be caroling that night, too, as they walk down Main Street. Have you two met any of the kids at church yet?”
Hannah shook her head. “They haven’t. We were snowed in Sunday morning, unfortunately. Mingling with those kids would’ve made this first week at school easier, I think. But maybe we’ll run into some of them at the Advent service on Wednesday.”
Molly eyes widened in alarm. “You aren’t going to, like, make me talk to them. Right?”
“That would be awful, no doubt.” Hannah hid a smile. “But if you see someone from school who looks kinda nice, you might ask a question about school, or about the youth group at church or about what they like to do around here for fun.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Keeley agreed. “Even adults find it hard to meet people in a new town, and if you don’t try, it can be very lonely.”
“Lots of people have moved here during the last few years,” Hannah added. “Did you know Keeley’s fiancé is from Texas like you are?” At Cole’s sudden attention, she nodded. “And Connor is a real cowboy. Now he trains and shows horses here in Wisconsin, but he grew up on a ranch out West. When the weather is nicer, maybe we can go out to the horse ranch where he works, so you can ride.”
Even Molly perked up at that. “Really?”
“Absolutely. But right now we’d better scoot over to the Christmas Shoppe, so we can get back to the vet clinic before it closes. Thank Keeley for the lovely cookies and we can be on our way.”
Cole and Molly bundled up into their coats and mittens, dutifully murmured their thanks and went out to the sidewalk.
Hannah hesitated at the door and looked back. “Thanks, Keel.”
Keeley joined her at the entryway and they both looked out the front window at the children running their hands over the snow-frosted bench just outside. “So how are things going—really?”
“They’re still grieving, of course. And I knew moving here wouldn’t be easy. But sometimes...” Hannah felt tears start burning in her eyes, but she willed them away. “Sometimes they say or do something that rips my heart in pieces. We were just at the vet clinic, and Molly...”
Hannah swallowed hard, unable to go on for a moment. “Can you imagine the pain of losing your parents and having no chance to say goodbye? How can they ever recover from that?”
Keeley gave Hannah a brief, comforting hug. “You will just keep loving them, Hannah. Make them feel loved, and safe, and honor their memories. Do you remember the funeral for the Jones’ boy a few years ago?”
“I’ll never forget it.”
“I remember his distraught mom asking us how she could ever get through her grief and you said...”
Hannah managed a wobbly smile. “By holding on to the faith that he was already with the Lord in heaven, beyond all suffering, and that she would be with him again.”
“You’ll all get through this in time. I promise. There isn’t another person who could handle the challenges better than you will.”
Impatient now, the kids were both looking through the front window at her, their hands framing their faces as they peered through the breath-frosted glass.
Hannah felt her heart warm and give an extra little thump. “I’ll be praying every single day that you’re right, Keel. Because nothing matters to me more.”
* * *
Hannah had envisioned a long and careful search through the Christmas Shoppe while Molly and Cole searched for their perfect ornaments for the tree.
But it took all of five minutes with Molly finding a springer spaniel ornament that looked vaguely like Belle on a display tree right inside the door, and Cole finding a golden retriever one that looked a lot like Maisie on the same tree.
Evening shoppers were beginning to fill the sidewalks as they stepped out of the store, and holiday music filtered into the chilly, early evening air through loudspeakers on the lampposts.
A light dusting of snow had landed over the town, making Hannah feel as if she were walking in an old-fashioned snow globe.
In just a few minutes they were back at the clinic.
Marilyn greeted them with a smile. “I’m glad you made it back. We’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.”
Molly fidgeted from one foot to the other. “Can we see Belle?”
“Of course you can. Dr. Leighton is gone, but I can take you back there. But you have to promise that you won’t touch anything or get too close to the cages. And, especially, do not poke your fingers into the cages trying to pet the animals. We have four post-ops back there, and dogs that are sweet at home can be quite nervous in a vet clinic.”
When both kids nodded, she led the way to the back of the clinic. A night-light warmed the darkness with a soft glow.
Three dogs were immediately awake and barking when Marilyn turned on the fluorescent lights. “Your Belle is over here, to the left. The last time I looked in on her she was quite subdued, but she’s in poor condition and doesn’t have a lot of energy yet. She also took a little longer than usual to wake up after the anesthesia.”
Belle was crouched at the back of her cage, her ears flattened and tail tucked when Molly approached.
“She looks so miserable,” Molly whispered. “I don’t think she even remembers me.”
“I’m sure she’s scared. Here she is, in another new place with strangers, and on some pain meds that might make her a little woozy. I’m sure she’s never had an IV drip before, or NG tube feedings. But Dr. Leighton thinks she’ll be a lot perkier tomorrow.”
“And then we can take her home?”
Marilyn pursed her lips. “That, I couldn’t say. I’m sure we’ll have a better idea in a day or two. You wouldn’t want her home too soon, only to get weak and sick, would you?”
Molly shook her head vigorously. “I want her to be well.”
Cole pointed to three dogs in the cages along the back wall. “Why are they here? Are they all sick, too?”
“Let’s see. One neuter, one spay. Those two will go home tomorrow. One got away from his owner and was hit by a car, so he had his femur repaired this afternoon.”
“I’d like to be a vet someday,” Molly murmured, looking around the room with awe.
“Good for you. There’s a high percentage of female vets these days.” Marilyn ushered them out of the recovery room and switched off the overhead lights. “Study hard, get good grades and take all the math and science classes you can in high school. It will help a lot when you take the pre-vet classes in college.”
Molly looked up at Marilyn with shining eyes. “I will. There’s nothing in the world I want more.”
* * *
Hannah checked the new text message on her phone and sighed. Until she’d brought the children north, she’d never hesitated to put in extra hours at work. Every day brought new challenges and she loved both the patients and the staff she worked with.
But now, she just wanted to be home when the kids weren’t in school. To that end she’d shortened her clinic hours and asked to be taken off the on-call schedule until after Christmas. But apparently the other PA in town was out sick.
She tapped her phone for Ethan’s number. The call went straight to voice mail, so she waited a minute, tried again and left a brief message. Where was he?
She glanced in the rearview mirror as she shifted her vehicle into Drive. Cole slumped in his seat, his face pale and drawn. “Are you all right?”
He nodded, not meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror.
“I guess this was a pretty big day for you two.” She turned onto Main Street. “Did you have a good time?”
No one answered.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I need to stop by Ethan’s cabin to see if he’s available tomorrow, just in case I get called back to work. Is that okay with you?”
When neither of them answered, she directed another glance up at the mirror.
Molly glowered back at her. “We don’t need a babysitter.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t feel comfortable with you two alone out in the country.”
“Mom let us stay home when she went to the store. Nothing happened then.”
“Maybe not, but it will make me feel a lot better if there’s an adult around.” At the other end of town she braked at the four-way stop sign in front of the coffee shop. “Okay?”
“Isn’t that his car?” Cole piped up. “Right over there.”
Sure enough, it was the SUV with Minnesota plates.
Hannah parked in the next open space, and led the way into the coffee shop. Busy as usual, most of the tables were filled and a number of people were eating at the long lunch counter.
“There he is,” Cole chirped, pointing toward the back. “Talking to that pretty lady standing by his booth.”
Hannah’s heart stumbled.
Dressed in a lipstick-red wool jacket and short skirt, the woman’s clothing molded every perfect curve. Glittering diamonds flashed at her ears and wrists. With the four-inch heels of her tall black leather boots and the thick, wavy blonde hair spilling down her back, she looked like she’d just stepped off the cover of Vogue.
She was obviously a wealthy young woman, and from the silvery trill of her laughter, she and Ethan were enjoying a delightful conversation. No wonder he hadn’t answered Hannah’s calls. He had much better things to do.
Forcing back a flare of unexpected jealousy, Hannah glanced down at her own puffy black jacket—the one that probably added twenty pounds to her silhouette, and the khaki slacks badly stained with formula a baby had spit up on her at the clinic.
But jealousy was a ridiculous response.
Ethan and she had no personal relationship. None—beyond the politely adversarial situation they’d been locked in since he’d appeared at her door. He was free to flirt with anyone he chose, and it didn’t matter to her at all. And if his taste now ran toward women like this one, he probably thought Hannah was pathetic.
“Uh...Ethan looks like he’s busy. Let’s go,” she murmured.
But Cole was already racing to the booth, with Molly on his heels, so there was no turning back.
The blonde looked down at them with horror, then raised her gaze and gave Hannah a sweeping, dismissive glance. “You have a family?” she snapped, turning back to Ethan. Then she spun on her heel and walked out of the coffee shop.
“Boy, she was mad, Uncle Ethan,” Cole exclaimed as he watched her disappear through the front door. “Was she a movie star or something?”
“She just stopped to visit, I guess.”
“Sorry we interrupted,” Hannah said dryly. “I can run after her and tell her that you are totally available, if you’d like.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hannah’s better, anyway,” Molly muttered. “At least she’s nice.”
Faint praise, but even that much was a surprise and Hannah gave her shoulders a quick, one-armed hug. “We saw your car and stopped, because I tried to call a little while ago.”
Ethan gestured at his coffee cup. “Join me?”
“No, I’ve got to get the kids home, but thanks, anyway. I just learned that I need to be on call tomorrow evening. If I do get called in, can you spend some time with the kids?” She flicked a glance at the front door of the coffee shop. “Unless you’ll be seeing your...friend, that is.”
He grinned at Molly and Cole. “Nope. Hands down, I’d rather spend time with you two, any day.”
“Thanks, Ethan.” Hannah waggled an eyebrow up and down. “And just to make sure no one is bored, I have a cool project for the three of you. Just wait and see.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ethan had already noticed that Hannah’s ten acres held a lot of trees.
What he hadn’t noticed was that there was an immeasurable number of pine trees out there, but apparently none of them were perfect enough for a Christmas tree.
Cole ran from one tree to the next, studying each one from every angle and then moving on. His standard of perfection was the artificial tree his parents had put up every year, and none of these live ones fit the bill.
No wonder. What self-respecting tree would want to look like a scraggly replica with plastic needles?
Trailing well behind, Molly wanted something “super tall and wide at the bottom” like the one she’d seen on a book cover in the school library.
But it was already five and soon it would be getting dark.
Carrying the saw, Ethan trudged doggedly after them through the deep, pristine snow, his bad leg aching a little more with every step.
He had a feeling Hannah could have found a way to expedite this process, but she’d been called back to the hospital and probably wouldn’t be home until seven.
Hannah’s “cool project” was proving to be cool in every sense of the word.
She’d asked him to find a Christmas tree with the kids, but every time he tried to take a stand about going no farther into the forest, he was met with wails about this being their very first tree to cut down and it had to be perfect.
Good luck with that.
Yet this was the first time he’d seen the kids show any real enthusiasm about their first Christmas without their mom and dad. So how could he deny them anything within his power?
Ethan’s knee buckled, sending him face-first into a mound of snow and the boulder hidden beneath that deceptive mantle of white.
Stars exploded in his brain.
He wobbled, dizzy and disoriented as he tried to push off the rock and regain his feet. Now the entire forest seemed be spinning in disjointed loops that dipped and swayed, and sent him careening against the trunk of a tree.
Closing his eyes, he held on to the tree trunk and took slow, deep breaths. Waited to regain his balance.
A flash of motion flickered at the corner of his eye and he pivoted toward it in time to see a magnificent buck with a massive rack not twenty yards away. Regal, the deer took several slow steps with its head held high, then bounded away into the forest.
“Kids,” Ethan whispered, “did you see that?”
He pivoted slowly toward where he’d last seen Molly, then to where Cole had been just a moment ago.
Both of them were gone.
“Molly! Cole!”
The forest remained dead silent. Even the breeze had gone still.
He resolutely changed course toward the last place he’d seen Cole, slipping on unseen, downed tree trunks hidden under mounds of snow, stumbling over rocks.
At the top of a small rise he finally connected with Cole’s boot prints, which headed off to the west and a rugged hill covered with thickets of low, thorny branches.
Now his heart was beating double-time, as much from worry as the exertion of plowing through deep snow. Where on earth had the boy gone?
“Cole! Molly!” He waited. Listened. Then continued onward. In less than an hour it would be too dark to see the tracks.
He briefly closed his eyes, remembering all of the times he’d been desperate—trying to reach a wounded buddy under fire. Searching through a bombed-out city of rubble and despair, determined to take out any snipers before they got to him and his men first.
God hadn’t ever answered his prayers then and after a while he’d given up.
But now, with two kids missing and a below-freezing night ahead, he dredged up those rusty words and began to pray. Please, God, I know I’m not worthy. But please, please help me find those two innocent kids—they don’t deserve to die out here.
Then he struck out again, scanning the terrain for any sign of the kids as he went.
The tracks were veering south, thank goodness, in the general direction of Hannah’s house. And there were Molly’s tracks, too.
But why would they have turned back without a word?
Or had they? When he looked down again, the tracks had vanished. Had that buck been a figment of his imagination, too?
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he stared in wonder at the blood on his glove and tried to sort through his thoughts. Figure out where he’d gone wrong.
But he couldn’t remember a thing.
* * *
Hannah searched the house then looked out into the backyard.
Ethan’s SUV was in the driveway, the house unlocked. But none of the lights had been turned on against the approaching darkness, so maybe they were still outside, dragging a pine tree behind them like a caveman’s trophy kill.
She smiled to herself, wondering how long that decision had taken. She’d told Ethan to stay within the fenced border of her property just for that very reason.
It was all too easy to be lured farther and farther into the forest by the prospect of a perfect tree waiting just out of reach, and then become confused and lost—especially at dusk. But if he’d followed directions, he and the kids would always run into her fence line sooner or later and be able to find their way home.
Shoving her feet into her snow boots, she shrugged into her heavy down jacket, pulled on a hat and mittens and headed outside beyond the charred remains of the barn.
An Aspen Creek Christmas (Aspen Creek Crossroads Book 4) Page 13
