Saving The Single Dad
Cheryl Harper
His son and daughter—They are her family, tooChristina Braswell would do anything for her divorced best friend’s kids, including help their father. Park ranger and sudden single dad Brett Hendrix inspires trust and has everyone’s back. But Christina’s torn between loyalty and a deepening attachment to the handsome Sweetwater, Tennessee, lawman. Brett’s not making it any easier…she's finally feeling as if she belongs somewhere.
His son and daughter—
They are her family, too
Christina Braswell would do anything for her divorced best friend’s kids, including help their father. Park ranger and sudden single dad Brett Hendrix inspires trust and has everyone’s back. But Christina’s torn between loyalty and a deepening attachment to the handsome Sweetwater, Tennessee, lawman. Brett’s not making it any easier—Christina’s finally feeling as if she belongs somewhere.
CHERYL HARPER discovered her love for books and words as a little girl, thanks to a mother who made countless library trips and an introduction to Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House stories. Whether stories she reads are set in the prairie, the American West, Regency England or Earth a hundred years in the future, Cheryl enjoys strong characters who make her laugh. Now Cheryl spends her days searching for the right words while she stares out the window and her dog, Jack, snoozes beside her. And she considers herself very lucky to do so.
For more information about Cheryl’s books, visit her online at cherylharperbooks.com (http://www.cherylharperbooks.com) or follow her on Twitter, @cherylharperbks (https://twitter.com/CherylHarperBks).
Also By Cheryl Harper (#u353e52af-a712-5854-abe6-e3630d7c72ef)
Otter Lake Ranger Station
Smoky Mountain Sweethearts
Lucky Numbers
A Home Come True
Keeping Cole’s Promise
Heart’s Refuge
Winner Takes All
The Bluebird Bet
A Minute on the Lips
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Saving the Single Dad
Cheryl Harper
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08501-4
SAVING THE SINGLE DAD
© 2018 Cheryl Harper
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“Thank you for keeping my kids safe, Christina.”
Brett decided to take a chance, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to squeeze her closer. Growing up, she’d always smelled of hair spray and drugstore perfume. Tonight Christina might as well have sprayed a perfume named Home.
Christina blinked. “Wow. I didn’t think you could surprise me, but tonight, with those words, you’ve done it.”
Because he’d been so rigid.
She was right. Something was changing inside him, probably thanks to an unrelenting pressure. If she knew that two urges were battling for control inside him, she’d be shocked. He was either going to kiss her or run for cover. There, in the warm glow of home, feeling connected, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to press his lips to hers. What would she do?
Dear Reader (#u353e52af-a712-5854-abe6-e3630d7c72ef),
Saving the Single Dad started while I was eavesdropping at work. (Note: beware the quiet writer.) A man stepped out of a meeting to take a call from his son. The reason? His son needed help negotiating some kind of agreement with his very clever sister. It was charming, but when Dad ended the call with a sweet “I love you, son,” I was hooked. All I had to do was dream up the right heroine.
In Saving the Single Dad, Christina and Brett both have sharp edges, but such soft spots for kids and family that it was easy to help them fall in love. I hope you enjoy their story.
To find out more about my books and what’s coming next, please visit me at cherylharperbooks.com (http://www.cherylharperbooks.com).
Cheryl
Contents
Cover (#u1103b1af-3be8-5779-b8a9-fde564235257)
Back Cover Text (#u48f963a9-82a7-54e7-b9ce-6fb980e3f037)
About the Author (#u739cf592-c973-5c0e-8836-ad2ae8a01f71)
Booklist (#u8171d69f-cb76-5650-8371-7c905bd00277)
Title Page (#u1f9d2b26-8279-52f9-9e1e-9a7036a639c5)
Copyright (#u3f7fe372-04f7-59e0-8802-1b2367d9900c)
Introduction (#ueca99586-c30d-5707-b847-1163d15f002e)
Dear Reader (#ubf73861d-5c98-594e-81ec-5635fa8998e0)
CHAPTER ONE (#ueb0f7f1a-e3b8-5786-95a4-38b61ffe70fa)
CHAPTER TWO (#u09cfa36e-85c1-5116-a6a8-907ba7dfa823)
CHAPTER THREE (#u189883f3-1043-5ddb-8ef6-9d22917a6aaf)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u3edc526e-4592-5b53-a503-0be6ae244ed5)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u89814f1f-2538-5fdd-a64c-eb33ab92f16e)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u353e52af-a712-5854-abe6-e3630d7c72ef)
CHRISTINA BRASWELL HAD already had enough of Monday, but it was only eight o’clock and the breakfast rush was in full swing. Finding her inner peace in the chatter and bustle that filled the combination camp store, marina and no-frills diner at the Otter Lake Campground was impossible.
Her inner peace had always been elusive like that. She focused on the view through the window. Otter Lake gleamed outside. The campground was situated in a quiet cove of the lake, a shadowy forest and the steep rise of Yanu Falls forming a serene landscape.
Which was almost the perfect contrast for the controlled chaos of the busy diner.
“I missed my favorite waitress this weekend,” Woody Butler said as he yanked up his camo ball cap and smoothed down a healthy shock of white hair.
“Your wife steal the keys to the truck again?” Christina flipped over the porcelain coffee cup and poured black coffee to the rim. She was his favorite; Woody would swill coffee for hours and talk her ear off along the way before always leaving the same five-dollar tip.
Typical day ending in Y around here.
If he’d ever caught any of the fish he liked to tell her about, he’d done it before she started working behind the counter.
“Naw, you know better’n that, Chrissy,” he said with a grin. “That wife of mine don’t care what I do, so long’s I stay out of her hair.” He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s why I like to hang out here with you.”
Right. Christina had often wondered what lucky lady had married Woody right after Noah unloaded the ark, but they had discovered the key to long-term marital bliss: lots and lots of space.
Woody spent most of his hours telling waitresses fish stories. All in all, his hobby was harmless.
“You want the usual?” she asked out of habit. The menu was limited here, but the food was good enough to appease the tourists staying at the campground and enough locals from Sweetwater to keep a steady crowd coming through the place.
“Well, now...lemme see.” Woody squinted at the two pages of menu and Christina tilted her head back and rolled her shoulders. Someday she would snap. The menu never changed. He had it memorized. Just about every person through the doors had been here often enough to recite the thing from memory, and still, this “lemme see” moment. There was no doubt in her mind that she was half a step above the world’s worst morning-shift waitress, but now that her best friend had left town and taken Christina’s car with her, this job was critical.
“I’ll have me the pancakes with two eggs, over easy, and crispy bacon.” Woody slapped the plastic-covered menu down as if he couldn’t be prouder of himself for making that difficult decision. “You make sure Monroe gets the bacon crispy now.” He pointed a finger. “I’d hate to leave a bad tip.”
“Yes, Christina, I’ll have the usual. Thank you for asking.” How hard was that to say?
Christina snatched up the menu, plopped it down on the leaning stack at the end of the counter and stuck her head in the window. “Short stack, two over easy, burn the bacon.” The kid manning the griddle waved his spatula. Monroe didn’t say much, but around here, Christina considered it a blessing. Until the rush started, she, Monroe and Luisa barely spoke. Every morning they enjoyed the warm glow of sunrise spreading across the lake. It was the only real perk of the job.
And of all the jobs she’d had, the Otter Lake Campground was her favorite, even with the annoyance and noise customers brought.
“You sure are looking nice today. Real...” Woody paused as he stared up at the ceiling, searching for the right word. Whatever adjective he picked, it was bound to be a doozy. “Swimsuit model–like.”
Christina rubbed the center of her forehead in the effort to soothe the throb that had kicked up. If she thought about what that meant for too long, the throb would spread. He was proud of it and never meant to hurt her, but why couldn’t she ever inspire “first grade teacher–like” or even “girl next door.”
Then she would have blended easily with the good citizens of Sweetwater, Tennessee, something she’d never managed to do.
No one had ever disagreed she was pretty; few had ever called her nice.
When her cell phone rang, Christina pulled it out of her tight jeans pocket and checked the caller ID.
Her best friend. She didn’t want to talk to Leanne. She wanted to shout at Leanne.
Woody leaned forward as if he could read the number across the counter, but Christina turned away and answered the call.
“I’m at work. I can’t talk.” Christina walked down to the quietest corner, where she could see the boats lined up at the dock. Most of the early-morning mist had burned off already. The weather forecast was for a beautiful, warm day.
“If you’d answered any of my other calls, we might have had some time to talk when it was convenient,” Leanne snapped. Christina immediately straightened.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and covered her ear with one hand. There was something about the tremor in Leanne’s voice that reminded her of the bad times. It had been almost ten years since her best friend had dumped her drug problem, but that tremor had scared Christina enough that she’d never forget it.
“Fine. Just missing my kids.” Leanne laughed breathlessly. “And no one in your crummy town will answer their phones.”
“My crummy town?” They’d grown up here together, two poor girls with busted families in a trailer park at the dead end of a dusty gravel road. For a long time, they’d been tighter than sisters. Christina listened as Leanne took a drag on something. She hoped it was a cigarette.
“Brett? Have you been calling Brett?” Christina tightened her grip on her phone until her hand ached. Thanks to this ill-conceived disappearing act, Leanne’s ex-husband, Brett, had run out of patience with her. If Leanne pushed this, ignored his latest demand that her only contact with their kids be in person and only when he was around, Brett might eliminate all her visitation rights. What was she thinking? “You know that’s a bad idea. Give him space. He’ll come around.”
“I called Brett. His mama. Every friend I thought I had left in Sweetwater, but you’re the only one to answer, girl. I knew I could depend on you.” Leanne’s change of tone was the first clue about the reason she’d phoned.
Whenever Leanne started to butter her up, the thing that came next was going to be upsetting.
“How’s my car?” Christina asked in a desperate attempt to head off whatever request Leanne had. “And Beau? I guess he’s okay, too.” Whatever Beau had been, it hadn’t been a good boyfriend, but if Leanne felt guilty, maybe she’d figure out her problem on her own.
“Your rust bucket is still rolling and I’ll bring it back as soon as I can.” Leanne cleared her throat. “But I need you to do something for me first.”
Still no mention of the man Christina had dated three times, only because she couldn’t be bothered to tell him she had to shampoo her hair. Beau was in Sweetwater temporarily to work at the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, home of Otter Lake. The fact that she couldn’t say what he did for a living suggested neither one of them had been serious about their relationship. Beau and Leanne might not even be together anymore. Maybe he’d gone home and forgotten to tell her about it.
“Well, all this walking I’m having to do to get to work and back has seriously hampered my free time.” Christina hoped the words were convincing. Leanne and her kids were all the family Christina had left, so she’d do whatever Leanne asked if it was possible. Forever.
Always had. Always would.
It had been months since she’d seen Leanne’s kids, even from a distance, but Brett Hendrix was doing his best to keep them in sight at all times. While he was no grand find as a compassionate, forgiving human being, he was a good father. Strong. He’d keep his kids safe, and no matter how much she missed Riley and Parker, Christina wouldn’t fault their father for doing what he felt he had to do for their well-being.
Hearing one too many stories about Leanne coming out of Sweetwater’s one and only bar had been his final straw. Christina had immediately waded in to defend Leanne, who’d only been keeping her company as she closed up, because Leanne had already been exiled. She’d had nothing to lose. Brett didn’t trust either one of them to tell him the truth and a court battle had settled the issue. He had sole custody of the kids and he wielded it like a weapon.
Whatever part she’d played in the blowup might keep her awake at night, but if this had been the moment to chase Leanne back to the pills that had taken over her life, Christina would never forgive Brett Hendrix.
“Come home, Leanne. Nothing will change with Brett if you don’t.” Fatigue was a nearly constant battle Christina fought, but it settled heavily over her. She knew Leanne was going to refuse.
“I said I’m bringing your car back. A couple weeks, that’s all I need,” Leanne shouted. Christina yanked the phone away from her ear and tried not to concentrate on how short Leanne’s temper had gotten the first time she’d fallen down the drug rabbit hole. This was emotion running high. Leanne would never be stupid enough to try drugs again.
When Monroe slid Woody’s plate into the window, Christina knew her time had run out. “What do you want?”
“Send me a picture of the kids. Please. I miss them. And if you have a chance to talk to Brett, convince him to reconsider letting me talk to them. One phone call. Please.” Leanne’s voice shook at the last.
“Come home, Leanne. The only way to fix this is if you come home.” Christina smiled at Woody to stall his impatient gestures for his food cooling in the window.
“I can’t. Not right now. Things aren’t good.” Leanne sniffed loudly and Christina fought the shiver that crept down her spine. “I’ll be home soon, though.”
“Where are you?” Christina asked. “I’ll come get you.” She had no idea how she’d get there, but she’d steal the keys to Woody’s truck herself if it meant saving Leanne from whatever was going on.
“Not now. See if you can talk to Riley and Parker. After school?” Leanne asked. “You could drop by, pick them up and take them to McDonald’s. Parker still loves the playground there.” Leanne took another drag.
“Pick them up? In my arms? Because I have no car.” Christina shook her head. “Just get back here, Leanne. We’ll go to McDonald’s together. Until then, I can’t help you.”
She ended the call over her friend’s protests, marched to the window to pick up Woody’s plate, took a deep breath, and then turned to slide it in front of him. “Sorry about that. A small emergency.” When she realized her hands were shaking, Christina made tight fists.
Would telling Leanne no ever get easier?
Woody’s puckered mouth didn’t ease until she flashed him the smile she’d used ever since she was seven years old and realized a bit of innocence could get her out of a scrape. “I hope you aren’t too mad.”
His long sigh as he unwrapped his silverware faded as she leaned one elbow on the counter next to him. “What can I do to make it up to you?” If he complained to the manager, it would be her second in a week. Since she’d been late two mornings in a row, thanks to the complete lack of friendlies who’d pick up a hitchhiker, Christina had to do whatever she could to soothe his ruffled feathers. Luisa was a great boss, but she wouldn’t forget unhappy customers easily.
Woody tapped his half-empty coffee cup. “Fill ’er up. Keep me company. That’s all, sweetness.” He’d always be easy to jolly out of a bad mood. Woody was a sucker for a friendly smile.
Christina tipped the pot up and watched the other tables in her section. “Where you headed out today?” Christina asked.
“Thought I might troll over closer to the falls.” Woody slurped his coffee. “Should be nice and cool.”
Christina nodded and propped the other elbow on the counter. Stretching the muscles in her back felt good.
“You could come with me.” He waggled his eyebrows as he shoved a forkful of egg in his mouth, one drop of yolk landing on his chin. While he chewed, he said, “Be happy to save you the long walk home.”
Christina offered him his own paper napkin. People who waited tables should not be as completely grossed out by dribbles as she was, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Were you eavesdropping on my phone call, Woody? Naughty.” She ignored the lurch of worry in her stomach at the reminder of Leanne’s request.
He took a bite of his pancakes and completely ignored the stray syrup that landed on his chin. “Heard about it in town first. Leanne stole your car, huh? And your man. Friends like that, you don’t need enemies, am I right?” He didn’t seem all that worried about the serious downturn in her luck.
She’d learned to expect that same attitude from most of Sweetwater, so it didn’t surprise her. Charity at Christmastime? The town could pull together for that, but everyday caring for people with real trouble was less common. She’d find the solution to her problems on her own, like she had her whole life.
Being flat broke, stuck in a town that hated her and in serious need of a way out was nothing new.
She’d also take care of Leanne. Always had. Always would.
“Guess everyone’s talking about Leanne,” Christina said as she replayed Leanne’s phone call in her head. In the same spot, Christina might not be in a big rush to come home, either.
Except she couldn’t imagine walking out on her kids. Ever.
“She pops up now and again. Things died down after the de-vorce,” Woody said, hitting the first syllable hard. “Then she disappeared with Beau, and you and her are both topics of convos regular-like.”
“Leanne and Beau aren’t together. It’s a coincidence they left town at the same time.” Christina had no idea if it were true, but Woody could start that rumor circulating and get them some benefit of the doubt.
And it wasn’t the first occasion she’d lied to make the people of Sweetwater let go of a juicy tidbit.
She and Leanne ought to be used to being the subject of speculation. For their whole lives, they’d been the town’s guilty pleasure. They’d grown up in the same place where people with no other options landed. Christina’s father had been in jail, so her mother worked two jobs to pay the bills, leaving Christina in charge, and Leanne’s grandmother finished raising all but one of her absent son’s kids. Climbing on the big school bus of staring children had been easier with Leanne at her back. Being on the outside never got better, but at least they had each other. And all those good people gossiping in town? Sure, someone ought to do something to help Christina and Leanne, but it was more fun to talk about them behind their backs.
“Brett and them kids are eating out in town ever’ day,” Woody added, “getting lots of sympathy, you know?” Of course he was. Brett was the hero in the story.
That was another constant. Brett Hendrix was a good man, day in and out, without fail.
He also handed down pronouncements like a heavenly judge on high.
At seventeen, Leanne had done the smartest thing she could: gotten pregnant by the class president. Instead of pretending he didn’t know Leanne or weaseling his way out of any responsibility, Brett had proposed.
Marrying Brett had straightened Leanne out and Christina was able to finish high school and even two years at a community college. Things were okay, except Brett never wanted Christina around. At least Leanne had ignored his orders.
Until Leanne messed it all up. Drugs had nearly destroyed them all, but Brett had pulled Leanne out. For that reason, Christina would always consider herself a Brett Hendrix fan.
Even when he made her so mad she wanted to throw darts at a lifelike depiction of his handsome face.
Which was all the time lately.
“I better check my other tables, Woody,” Christina said, the sadness that rolled over her when she wondered what was going to happen to Leanne hard to ignore. Space would make it easier to build her shell again.
“Just come back to me. We can talk about your transportation. Be happy to give you a ride wherever. Retirement’s a true blessing, open schedule for days, don’t ya know.” Woody snapped a piece of charred bacon and chewed.
Christina picked up her order pad and her coffeepot. She moved between the tables, refilling and dropping checks off at tables as she went. There was usually a question about the easiest way to get back to Gatlinburg or where the fish were biting. Directions were easy. There weren’t many choices.
And she always gave the same answer about the fish. It didn’t matter. Fish were notorious for making liars out of people.
She approached the last table in the corner. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked as she slipped a ticket under the cup she was filling.
“How about your phone number?” the bearded guy asked. She didn’t recognize him, but that was normal. People came and went all the time because of the campground. If she had a dollar for every time some guy on his yearly fishing trip hit on her, she might be able to swing another car.
“Sorry. I’m seeing someone.” She gave him a friendly smile and stepped away from the table. When she was younger, she’d fallen for enough charming out-of-towners to learn what a waste of time it was to look for Prince Charming in a man passing through town. Now she went straight for a lie, the easiest brush-off of all.
“Sure have been friendly to the old guy at the counter. Flirting for tips?” he asked. The complete lack of a smile on his face made her a bit nervous.
“No, just an old friend.” Christina tightened her grip on the coffeepot. She’d left bartending for this reason. Give a man alcohol and he was convinced he was the World’s Sexiest Man capable of taking what he wanted at the same time.
Removing alcohol had made confrontations like this a lot less common.
That didn’t mean she’d forgotten how to make a weapon out of whatever was at hand, though.
“I’d like to be a new friend,” he said as he leaned forward. “Besides, heard him say something about somebody stealing your boyfriend. Now, if you can give me her number, I’ll go away. Any woman who could take a man from a looker like you must be the stuff of legends.” He grabbed her wrist as Christina moved to leave.
No matter how she turned her hand, she couldn’t twist free. Setting down the coffeepot to claw at his fingers would leave her with nothing but her pencil as a weapon.
Determined not to cause a brawl at this job, Christina said, “While I do appreciate the kindness, sir, I’ve got to get back to work.” And if I shove my pencil in your eye, I will probably lose this job.
“Feisty.” The guy tilted his head to the side. “Woman like you, dressed like that. Can’t imagine you ain’t in the market for something.” There was no doubt in Christina’s mind that her hot-pink shirt and tight jeans were gone in his mind.
Before she could swing the coffeepot or make a stab with her pencil, Woody eased off his stool, hitched up his belt and said, “You need help, Chrissy?”
The last thing she needed was for Woody to wade into this mess. She didn’t want his injuries on her conscience, and she couldn’t afford a bill for repairs.
Christina moved to set the coffeepot down on the guy’s arm and jerked away as soon as he let go of her arm.
“Oh my. I almost got you.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe how clumsy she was. “I do apologize.” Should she offer to cover his breakfast in order to get him out of there?
What would she do if he returned when the crowd thinned?
Call the cops before his backside hit the wooden seat, that’s what. Being nice as a solution didn’t get more than one shot.
When the guy stood up, she and Woody both shrank back a step. He was big. Of course he was. What rule of nature made it necessary for the biggest animal on the food chain to be the one with the fewest redeeming qualities?
Armed with her coffeepot in one hand and her pencil in the other, Christina squared off. “You go ahead and leave, mister. I’ve got your ticket covered.”
She would much rather lose the ten dollars than the job. And if the guy did come back, she’d gladly shut him down and kiss the diner goodbye. In the meantime, she was no one’s victim. Not anymore.
Before the guy could make up his mind whether to throw his weight around some more or skip out on his bill and count himself lucky, the door to the restaurant opened and the park’s head law enforcement ranger, Brett Hendrix, stepped in.
The relief that swept over her was immediate, yet enraging. He had the same golden glow he’d had as he sauntered the halls of Sweetwater High, everyone’s friend and role model. Why couldn’t he have gained forty pounds and lost all but forty strands of hair? Probably wouldn’t matter. He inspired trust and that would always be attractive.
They must have appeared as if frozen, caught in the instant before chairs started flying, punches were thrown and someone howled in pain, because Brett braced both hands on his belt, his gun holstered but within easy reach, and said, “Oh good. I made it in time for the brawl. I hate to miss the first minute because then I can never follow the rest of the story.”
Christina didn’t exactly relax, because Leanne’s ex was no fan of hers, but he knew right from wrong and never wavered from it.
Brett Hendrix believed there was no gray area when it came to life’s challenges, only seeing things as either totally black or white. It made life hard for those living in mostly those gray areas, especially for Christina. She knew he was a loving father, but she wanted to help her friend, too.
It was easy to hate him for all that, but right now, watching her would-be stalker fold before her eyes, Brett’s presence warmed a tiny corner of her cold heart.
Even better, faced with a park ranger in his officially official flat hat and everything, the guy yanked a twenty from his wallet, dropped the money on the table and stomped out.
Not only did she not have to cover his tab, but he’d left her the best tip of the day.
Christina couldn’t help the grin that slowly turned up her lips as she shoved her pencil back in her ponytail. “My hero.”
She waved the twenty-dollar bill and check at Woody. “You, too, darling.” His thin chest puffed out as if he’d done something besides stand behind her and bluster, but that was okay. Any thoughts of complaining about his cold breakfast and indifferent service were gone.
“What can I get you, Ranger?” Christina asked as she sashayed back behind the counter. She tried to always sashay when Brett was around. It made his scowl darker.
“First, tell me what that was.” He stared hard at the door.
“You know, one more guy who wants to hassle me,” Christina replied as she noticed Woody glued to the conversation. “New guy, so there was some excitement. All the others have learned where the boundary is.” She smiled at Brett.
“Business as usual, then,” Brett said with a nod. “Two coffees, two slices of pecan pie, to go.”
Christina saluted and turned to box up his order, happy to have her routine restored to calm the jitters.
The weight of Brett’s disapproving stare rattled her again, but it was familiar at least. When his phone rang and he turned away to answer it, Christina managed to catch her breath. As soon as Brett was on his way, she might even take Woody up on his offer of a ride home.
And if that didn’t illustrate how bad things were, that Christina Braswell was about to ask for help, she’d eat the pencil she’d been prepared to wield like a spear.
CHAPTER TWO (#u353e52af-a712-5854-abe6-e3630d7c72ef)
OBVIOUSLY THIS WAS going to be the Mondayest Monday of all Mondays. Brett had started the morning with a disaster before moving directly into a showdown and followed that up with a yelling match.
All before leaving the house.
In about two minutes, he’d be late for the meeting his boss, Ash Kingfisher, had called. Since he was at least ten minutes away from the ranger station at this point, he needed to come up with a logical excuse.
Any nature reserve staff who’d observed his drive in had probably already called to report him for reckless driving. The rolling stop he’d made at the first four-way off the highway had not been his proudest moment.
And now, instead of hustling to get his order, Christina Braswell was doing some kind of deep breathing exercises, her eyes closed, and his son was on the phone.
Since he’d just dropped the kid off at school, after calmly mopping up spilled grape juice that was all Parker would drink with his microwaved waffles, followed by changing his uniform, he wasn’t keen on catching up.
Then he realized Parker was his best source to tracking Riley, his daughter who was thirteen-going-on-thirty, and he answered, “What’s up, buddy?”
“Dad, Riley said she’ll give me ten dollars if I do her chores when we get home this afternoon. That’s a good deal, right?” Parker said, and gasped as if he was running down the hall. They’d been on time when he dropped them off, but Parker’s curiosity led him astray. A lot.
First grade was all about exciting new things.
“We’ve talked about this. Riley doesn’t have your best interests at heart, son. Remember that and try to think about her offers with that in mind.” Brett glanced over his shoulder to see that Christina had managed to shake loose of her meditation to bag up his order. She’d put two cups right next to the bag. He should have kept an eye on her. A wise man never turned his back on an angry woman.
Interrupting whatever little showdown she’d been caught in the middle of might be the first thing that had worked for him that morning. He hoped it wasn’t the last. She’d never thank him. She never had been the grateful sort, not even when he’d done his best to make sure she was safe. For a split second, he’d wanted to try that all over again, but the woman had more sharp edges than shattered glass.
“But it’s folding clothes, Dad. And she said she’d help me with my room.” Parker sneezed and Brett could almost hear the nurse’s phone call telling him his son needed to come home. Right now, no fever meant no sick day.
“What happened the last time she made that offer?” he asked as he pulled his wallet out. With one raised eyebrow, he asked Christina his total. She took a ten from him and turned to the cash register.
“She tricked me.” Parker’s sad voice made Brett smile. Having a daughter with an impressive criminal mind was scary. He’d only managed to stop her from shaving off her hair because Parker had asked him where his clippers were that morning. He’d had to learn to follow the trail to anticipate however Riley would act up next, and it often started with his trusting son.
Since her mother had gone off the deep end again, Riley needed careful attention. How to help her eluded him, but keeping her safe wouldn’t.
“Right. Don’t let her trick you again. This morning she almost got you, so watch her, P.” Brett took his change and shoved it in his pocket. “Now, be good. Pay attention. Call me when you get home this afternoon.”
“I will, Dad.” Parker heaved a huge sigh. “Girls are tricky.”
“Don’t you ever forget it, son.” With his wife’s best friend watching his every move, he couldn’t argue with that. “I love you, Parker.”
“Love you—” The call ended before he finished the rest of the sentence. That was Parker’s usual goodbye, so it was more reassuring than worrying.
When he ended the call, he considered calling Riley to explain again how much he disliked her attempts at tricking her brother. Then he remembered her annoyed stare when he’d steered her out of the bathroom and away from the statement she wanted to make with her hair.
Dinnertime would be soon enough to tackle that.
And since he was headed to Nashville for a weeklong training session, it might be dinner next week.
Looking forward to a class on managing a law enforcement department like it was a trip to Hawaii was a sign of how out of control his house had gotten. There would be no grape juice, no sullen teenage stares, and if he wanted to watch something other than the cartoon channel, he could. The business class hotel he’d booked on the outskirts of Nashville sounded more and more like heaven.
“Long day,” Christina drawled as she pushed the cups toward him.
“Yeah. And it’s just started.” He shook his head as she slid the sugar packets over. Then he ripped both open and dumped them in the coffee. He wadded up the paper and Christina slipped the lid on.
“How are Parker and Riley?” she asked as she tipped her chin up. She expected him to tell her to go jump in Otter Lake and he wanted to. Anything he said to her would go right back to Leanne. He didn’t have the energy for a confrontation.
“They’re okay.” Brett snatched up the bag and pointed at the empty table in the corner. “He going to be a problem?”
Christina twirled her pen as she considered his question. Even in the fluorescent lights of the campground’s dumpy restaurant, she was a heartbreaker. For a split second after he’d married her best friend, he’d tried to act the big brother and protect her. At seventeen, she’d run circles around him immediately and basically made him wish he’d never been born. More than a decade later, he could see the hardness in her eyes and wished he’d done a better job.
“I had it under control.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Woody had my back.” Out of the corner of his eye, Brett saw the old guy straighten on his stool.
Pretending to have everything under control was his move, so he respected it.
The glint in her eye was a warning, and it was always there. She’d never wanted his help, and she wouldn’t take him up on it if he offered to handle her problem customer for her.
If he wasn’t careful, his daughter would have the same calculating expression.
“You’ve got my number if he comes back,” Brett said as he dug around in his pocket for a dollar bill. He was ticked off at Leanne, and Christina was guilty by association, but he couldn’t walk out without leaving a tip or at least making the offer.
“I won’t call it.” She pointed at Woody Butler, frequent camp fly at the Otter Lake Campground. “I’ve got Woody.”
Since the last time Woody might have been able to throw a punch was forty years ago, Brett was almost certain he’d be a hindrance if it came to a real fight.
Now he was fifteen minutes late for that meeting with his boss, and he shouldn’t be wasting his time trying to tell her to do the right thing anyway.
He held up the bag and headed for the door.
“Hey, Brett,” Christina called.
He could pretend he didn’t hear her, like his mother had when he’d yelled at her to get out of bed before he left that morning. Diane Hendrix had come for a visit three years ago to help him out, and every day since, her patience grew shorter. Their yelling match over the imposition of him disappearing for a week and leaving everything on her shoulders had been the cherry on top of his Dumpster sundae.
But he was in uniform, so he did the right thing. “Yeah?”
“You’re probably wondering how Leanne is. Your wife.” Christina crossed her arms over her chest. “The wife you cut out of her kids’ lives.”
“Ex-wife. For good reasons, which most of the people in this room are very aware of,” Brett muttered as he glanced around the restaurant. The crowd had thinned, but he could see a few regulars. Anybody who knocked around Otter Lake or Sweetwater had heard their story already. Cheating, drugs and the epic court battle made for juicy gossip. His reputation would never recover, but he wanted better for Riley and Parker.
“She misses her kids.” Christina stepped closer.
“She should have thought of that a long time ago.” Brett bit back the rest of the answer that bubbled up.
“She wasn’t drinking at the Branch, Brett.” Christina glanced over her shoulder and he could see the frustration on her face when she turned back. She didn’t want this to play out in public, either. “You told her not to talk to me, but we’re best friends. She came to keep me company. That’s it. Cutting her out like this, have you thought what it might mean? What it means to Parker and Riley to lose their mother, or to Leanne to lose the most important things in her life, the kids who keep her grounded?”
Christina clenched her hands together in the apron tied around her waist. Instead of impassive control, her expression was a mix of begging and warning. He understood her message, too, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d made his decision about what to do about Leanne the day the judge gave him sole custody. While she was in Sweetwater, he’d invited her over to visit the kids but only when he was around. What had been exciting and passionate when they were kids had become unstable and a problem when they’d become parents. He’d wanted his children to know their mother, but she’d left them behind.
Now that she’d gone? She was out of all of their lives for good.
That meant everything was on his plate. No matter how much the load weighed him down, he had to keep everything balanced.
Leanne had thrown away her chance to prove she was ready for more responsibility. He refused to admit any guilt, but his whole world was fraying around the edges.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Chris.” The old nickname slipped out and he watched her shoulders slump. “You know my priority.” He backed out of the door and watched her turn away. He was going to escape the town’s scrutiny; Christina would have to face it, this time alone.
She’d made her choice. He understood her loyalty, but that loyalty had made it easy enough for Leanne to make bad decisions. He was doing the right thing.
Once he was back in the car, he called the latest in a string of women he’d dated in an attempt to find another wife. If he didn’t have permanent help and soon with the kids, he’d have to give up his job.
He’d had a strict list of requirements for the women he dated, since the only thing he never wanted to have happen again was to be lied to and abandoned. This teacher from Knoxville was prettier than he preferred, but she was quiet and sweet and so boring that he couldn’t imagine her being the subject of the kind of wild stories that circulated about Leanne or Christina.
She also hadn’t grown up in Sweetwater. At this point, that was her strongest selling point. Living with people who’d witnessed his biggest failure from the front row was hard enough. He didn’t want his children facing that memory at home every day.
He was planning to leave a message, but Lila answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, I figured you’d be teaching,” Brett said as he maneuvered the curvy road that led to the ranger station and the overlook.
“Free period,” Lila said before clearing her throat. “But I’m glad you called.”
“Well, I wanted to remind you that I’ll be in Nashville this week.” Brett studied the parking lots as he passed. Low occupancy currently, but the numbers would grow later in the day. “When I get back, I’d like you to come out and meet my kids.” He’d decided their conversations had gone well enough that it was time to move to the next step. After four false starts, he had a good feeling about Lila. He’d show his mother he was making progress, so that he could talk her into staying until school was out for the year. That was going to be stretching his persuasive abilities, but he didn’t think Lila would want to marry in the middle of the school year.
“About that.” Lila cleared her throat delicately. “I don’t think that’s a good plan.”
Brett pulled into his parking spot and turned off the engine. “Why not? I’d love to do it sooner, but—”
“I’m seeing someone else, Brett. You and me, the two of us together don’t work. We have no spark.” Lila sighed. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. What I don’t understand is why you seem to think it’s still a good thing.”
Brett thumped his head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. Hysterical laughter was going to be the next step, but he’d fight it as long as he could.
“Are you still there?” she asked softly.
“Yep. No spark, huh?” He’d never tried to stir up a spark. He and Leanne had been nothing but sparks, down to fiery explosions. He didn’t want that anymore.
He wanted someone nurturing for his kids, someone who wouldn’t flake when a better offer came along or desert him when Riley pulled whatever stunt she was planning next.
And he wanted peace.
What was he going to do?
“Okay, well...” Brett picked up the bribe, the critical bag of pie from the diner. “Glad I made the call.”
“You’re a great guy. I know you’ll find the woman you deserve,” Lila said before she ended the call.
When he had a minute, he’d come up with a new plan. Right now, he had to go and make sure his boss didn’t fire him.
As he strode past the front desk, Macy Gentry, the woman who kept the ranger station operational while treating guests like VIPs, whistled. “He’s called twice looking for you.”
No doubt. Ash Kingfisher had a million different balls in the air as the supervisor for this ranger station. He didn’t need to be kept waiting.
Brett tapped on the boss’s door, and then entered, waving the white bag as a flag of surrender. “I brought pie.”
Ash grunted, and then pointed at the ratty seat across from him. “Thought cops were supposed to be about doughnuts.” They had this conversation at least once a week. Brett had started out as a cop in Knoxville. As a kid, he’d wanted nothing more than to get out of Sweetwater and the shadow of the nature reserve. As soon as Leanne had told him about their second baby on the way, he’d decided Sweetwater might be the only place that could save them.
In Knoxville, Leanne could get into too much trouble. In Sweetwater, any trouble she found would eventually make its way back to him. Unfortunately, that made it harder to love her.
“Doughnuts, pie, mainly pastries in general. We try not to discriminate.” Brett slid the second cup of coffee over and watched Ash tug the lid off and drink deep. He must have already had a full Monday, too.
“You all set for this management class?” Ash asked as he shuffled papers across his desk.
Brett grumbled. That was the best answer he could come up with. He’d been a ranger at the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve for more than five years. This promotion to senior law enforcement officer was nice, but it came with headaches he hadn’t anticipated. This step was required, though, so he’d get through it.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ve postponed the training as long as I can. Go, or...else.” Ash held out both hands. “Can’t change the rules for you, right?”
Brett understood that. Arguing about his personal situation or explaining how well he was already performing would accomplish nothing. “No, sir.”
“Before you go, I wanted to talk to you about this opportunity the chief ranger sent our way.” Ash pulled out a file folder. “State’s looking to set up regional law enforcement task forces focused on terrorist activities. I’m not sure how the nature reserve can be involved. I suspect the chief ranger is not certain, either. However, we both think you’re the best man for the job.” Ash leaned back in his chair and claimed one of the containers of pie.
Brett could understand their thinking. There was a good chance he’d worked with the other agencies involved in East Tennessee. After the day he’d had, all he wanted to do was put his head on the desk and rest. “I’d be happy to, sir. Whatever I can do for the reserve. You know that.”
Ash sighed as he took a bite of the pie. “Well, I figured you’d say that, so I already put your name in. It means monthly meetings in Knoxville.”
Brett finished off his coffee and wished for more. The pie was sweet, but only coffee would give him the kick he needed to go any further with this day.
“You look like a man who’s running on fumes, Hendrix.” Ash took another bite of pie. “Anything I need to know about?”
If Ash hadn’t already heard about his woes through the grapevine, Brett wouldn’t be the man to tell him.
“Nope, I’m going to stop by the office, make sure the patrols are set. Macy has all my contact info and I’ll have my cell.” Brett picked up his hat and stood.
“Keep me posted and thank you for your service.” Ash waved his empty container. “I learned that from a weeklong training session at the Tennessee Law Enforcement Officers Academy. See what an effective manager I became?”
“They do good work,” Brett said with a reluctant smile.
“Yes, they do. Make sure you get some sleep. I can’t have you napping in your car. Watch the speed limit on your way back down, and the stop signs here on the reserve mean full stops, not hesitations. Got it?”
Brett opened his mouth, but there was no answer to that, so he nodded.
“I see everything.” Ash dumped the plastic container into a garbage can.
“Recycle,” Macy yelled from her desk. Firmly.
“Eyes in the back of her head,” Ash muttered before cursing and fishing out the container.
“If that’s all you needed...” Brett stood next to the door, his hand on the knob as he plotted his next steps. He had to be in Nashville by three. He’d be cutting it close.
“Dismissed.” Ash nodded, and then added, “Hey, Hendrix, I know things right now are rough. If it gets to be too much, tell me.”
Brett agreed, and then stepped out. There was no way he’d ask his boss for help. That would be a sure path to the sidelines. He loved his job. He didn’t want to sit out any of the action.
Not even a task force that amounted to lunches filled with gossip all in the name of cooperation.
After he had a chance to check in with the rangers on patrol and to double-check the schedule that he’d double-checked every day for the past two weeks, he slid back into his car and hit the road.
With every mile, the certainty that something would go wrong grew. He hated being away from his kids. In a last-ditch effort to calm his nerves, he phoned his mother.
“Did you call to apologize?” she said without any other hello.
“No, I called to thank you.” No good would come of explaining how much more he needed her to do than she was already doing.
Her huff was the answer he’d expected. “And to warn you Riley’s up to something. It involves her hair. She’s either planning to cut it off or make me think that’s what she’s doing while she does something else.” Brett tightened his hands on the steering wheel and wished her acting out would stop there. If it made her feel better, he’d hand her the clippers himself.
But nothing seemed to make her feel better. Her mother had left town. Riley was angry.
She deserved to be angry.
“Well, as long as she’s not trying to hurt anybody else, I guess that’s good enough.” His mother never had been great at encouragement. Now the only thought that stuck in his brain was that Riley might go past teenage drama to something worse.
“Try to go easy on her. I’ll call tonight to make sure the day went okay.” Brett wondered if he should tell his mother Lila had bailed, too, or let the whole situation ride until he was home.
“Sounds fine,” she said, “but I wanted to let you know I signed up for a singles cruise in December. Don’t know how this thing with the new lady is going, but you could set up a visit around then. Lots of happy family time. Holidays. Cheer in the air, all that.”
His mother had been desperate to get back to the life of the single retiree almost from the first week she’d arrived to help. He wasn’t sure he blamed her because there wasn’t much for her in Sweetwater, but the extra drop of bad news was more than he could take.
“All right. We’ll figure it out. Talk to you tonight, Mom.” He ended the call before she could squawk that her name was Diane and he should learn to use it.
That was how most arguments between them finished. He liked to tick her off by calling her Mom. To get that dig in without crossing whatever line he was unwilling to go over. She’d been the world’s coolest mom growing up, mainly because he’d raised himself. Now, as a grandmother, she’d prefer to be all expensive gifts from faraway places and infrequent trips home.
The women in his life were questionable. Lila could have been the exception and she’d bailed before he’d even rowed the boat out from shore.
There was an important lesson in there.
He had no brainpower left to work it out. He had to get to Nashville to learn to manage people.
The joke, once he got it, was great. Managing the rangers who served with him was a piece of pecan pie. Sweet and easy as a to-go order. It was the people who lived in his house that he needed training for. He had a feeling that the Tennessee Law Enforcement Officers Academy had seen a whole lot worse than his family, but that didn’t mean there was an instructor there prepared to teach him how to make order out of that chaos.
CHAPTER THREE (#u353e52af-a712-5854-abe6-e3630d7c72ef)
THE THING ABOUT being almost alone in the world was that the requests Leanne made led Christina to do things she would never otherwise do. It had taken a solid day to make up her mind, but Christina had finally given in. Lurking outside the Sweetwater school right after the last bell was so far from how she wanted to be spending her afternoon that it might as well have been some other person’s life.
But Leanne had asked.
If word got back to Brett, he would be angry and it would confirm his suspicions, so she had to be careful.
Woody had given her a ride into town, dropping her off in front of city hall so that she could pay her taxes. She wasn’t sure what taxes he thought were due, but Woody was the kind of friend who didn’t look at things too closely. At this point, that made him the perfect friend. At his insistence that she might need a getaway driver, or bail money, she’d gone so far as to put his number in her phone. When her next morning shift rolled around, she owed him endless hot coffee, for sure.
The fact that he’d changed his plans to do her a favor without requiring anything in return warmed the dark corner of her heart. Woody was good people, no doubt. Were there more around if she looked for them?
“Hope all the other good people around here are very busy,” Christina muttered as she did her best to pretend she belonged on the sidewalk next to the elementary school.
If she could talk to the kids and snap a picture before the bus pulled away, or some vigilant mother called the cops, this scheme would be one step up from a total disaster.
As soon as Riley stepped outside, she pulled her cell phone out of her backpack and started texting. Her heart-shaped face was so familiar and had changed so much since the last time Christina had seen her. What hadn’t changed was the frown. Christina eased up next to her. “Texting your boyfriend?”
Instead of jumping in surprise, Riley turned ninety degrees in a classic display of the cold shoulder. Her dark hair lifted in the breeze, but that was the only movement. The rest of her was statue still and apparently in no mood for conversation.
While Christina was plotting the best scenario to keep her in place, Parker launched a surprise attack. “Aunt Chris, what are you doing here? Did you come to pick us up?” Parker’s arms were wrapped so tightly around her middle that Christina had to ease him back to take a deep breath.
“Sorry, Parks, not today. I just wanted to say hi before you got on the bus.” Christina studied his face. Other than the disappointment wrinkling his brow, Parker’s sweet face was completely the same, so earnest. She could see faint traces of Leanne in his nose and chin, but the rest of him was all Brett. Serious brown eyes made it hard not to give him exactly what he wanted.
“Oh, since Dad’s out of town?” Parker asked as he yanked hard on Riley’s T-shirt. “Don’t be so rude.” That order made him sound like his father, too.
“No, because I’ve missed you. I talked to your mother and she wanted to make sure I told you that she’s headed back home to Sweetwater soon.” Christina wasn’t sure why she said it, but she wanted it to be true.
Riley was shaking her head as she looked up from her phone. “Don’t buy it, Parker. She knows you’re still a waste. Mom won’t be back until you’re out of the house. I’ll have to wait until then to see her again. We talked about it on the phone.”
“You got to talk to her?” Parker’s lip trembled, but he didn’t let a tear fall. Instead, he balled up a fist and punched his sister in the arm. “Shut up. Dad told me not to listen to a word you say.”
“No, thanks to your beloved aunt, neither of us can talk to Mom.” Riley snarled and rubbed the spot before marching away.
Christina wrapped her arm tightly around Parker’s shoulders and leaned down to murmur, “Your dad gave you good advice, Parks. Older sisters, they like to torment their younger brothers. Ignore her right now. Eventually, they grow out of it.” Leanne had always told her kids that “Aunt Chris” might as well have been her baby sister. Christina offered him her fist to bump. When he returned the bump, she blew up her hand before pressing kisses all over his cheeks. “Us young ones have to stick together.”
“Sure thing, Aunt Chris. Just for that, she can do her own chores.” Parker hitched up his backpack and looked over his shoulder at the bus waiting to take them home. Something had changed in his eyes, some of the joy was gone. Did he believe Riley was telling the truth about Leanne’s distance being Christina’s fault? What could she do about it if he did? “Unless you’re giving us a ride, we better go. Diane gets mad if she has to come pick us up. Missing the bus leads to slamming doors, so...”
Diane? That was the weirdest thing about Brett’s family. He was all Mr. America and everything, but his mother insisted her grandkids call her by her first name. She also dressed like a college freshman and had a gambling problem. How had he turned out so well?
“Aunt Chris won’t be driving us anywhere, Parker,” Riley drawled. “She’s got no car. Everyone in town’s talking about it.” And her mother. Christina tried to catch Riley’s shoulder, but the girl was already trotting toward the bus. She presented a hard shell, but Christina had lived inside the same lie for too long not to recognize it.
Riley was too young to be having to put up with the gossip and disappointment of a messed-up family.
Since she’d never been able to fix similar problems for herself, Christina wasn’t sure how to address it.
Parker’s anxious frown was enough to convince Christina to let things go for one more day. She grabbed his hand and jogged across the yard, swinging his hand like they used to do on the way to the park. His laugh made this whole nightmare worthwhile.
“Do me a favor. Get on the bus and hang out the window. I want to take your picture.” Christina waved her phone, and then pressed a kiss on Parker’s forehead. “I’ll catch you on the flip side.”
Parker rolled his eyes as he did every time she said it, clambered up the steps, and then popped his head out the bus window. Riley was in the seat behind him, her eyes glued to whatever was on her phone.
Christina called, “Love you like pepperoni pizza.”
Parker answered, “Love you like chocolate ice cream.” She snapped the picture in time to get his happy grin. Then the bus driver closed the doors and pulled away from the curb.
Before she could make herself crazy by weighing whether it was a good idea to humor Leanne or not, Christina quickly typed up a text.
Parker and Riley are headed home from school. Seem well.
She attached the photo and hit Send, then stood there staring at her phone, waiting for the answer, until the school yard was empty. When it was clear Leanne wasn’t going to respond, Christina shoved her phone back in her pocket and headed for the bar where she’d worked until Leanne left town.
The money had been so much better there, but she’d never be able to make it into work from the cabin she’d “inherited” from her father. The Braswells had lived outside of Sweetwater ever since they’d made it over the mountains. The mule had probably broken down right there. Her mother had refused to stay there when he went to prison, and years of neglect had done nothing to improve the place. Over the years, the cabin had been updated here and there, but it was only a roof over her head. She’d had dreams of moving into town, getting one of the apartments springing up around the edges.
Now she’d have to buy a car.
As she walked into the Branch, she had her spiel all worked out. Instead of waiting for her to launch into it, the owner, a tough cookie named Sharon, snapped, “You’ll work for tips.” Late afternoon was a slow time for the large open building that served beer for the fishermen, white wine for their wives and a plain, tasty menu with reasonable prices. If the campground diner had plenty of charm, thanks to the natural beauty outside the large windows, the Branch had space. That was about it. Of course, after the sun went down, the crowd got rowdier and neon lit up the walls.
When she was young, Christina had loved it.
Now she was certain she didn’t want to know why the floor was so sticky.
“I’ll work for tips.” Grateful, Christina caught the apron and said, “And a ride home at the end of the night.”
Sharon narrowed her eyes. “Fine. I better stop drinking.” She waved her usual mug of root beer and cackled like she’d made the most original joke in history.
Sharon never drank. But she owned a bar. Nothing Christina had ever done had convinced Sharon to tell her how that disconnect happened, not that it mattered. After a few dumb choices as a teenager, Christina was pretty firmly up on the no-alcohol bandwagon herself.
When she considered how nice it would be to have an escape at the moment, it was easier to understand Leanne’s struggle.
“Better limber up your slappin’ hand. The crowd seems restless lately, what with winter looming.” Sharon handed her an order pad, a tray, and pointed her at a dark corner. “Haven’t cleared the last table yet. While we’re slow, see if you can make some progress. Any money you find is yours.”
Since the bar wouldn’t pick up for a couple of hours, there was no rush, but Christina was happier working than sitting around worrying about Leanne. After she finished clearing the table, which, judging by the leftovers and the generous tip, had come from tourists with a nice-sized bankroll, Christina caught the burger basket Sharon slid down the bar. “Better eat while you can. Keep up your strength.”
Instead of arguing or offering her the tip money, which would have covered the most popular item on Sharon’s menu, Christina took a bite of the greasy burger and sighed. Sometimes, life could get her down, but junk food renewed her spirits.
“Hear you’re having a rough go.” Sharon wiped the glasses at her elbow in assembly line fashion before stacking them. “You gonna pull out of it soon? I didn’t hold your job, but I’ll toss the new girl out if you’re coming back full-time.”
“Unless you’re running a shuttle, I better stay out at the campground for now,” Christina said slowly.
Sharon leaned against the counter. “Pretty girl like you, you could do better than either that place or this one. Find you a nice, decent man, settle down.”
“I’ve seen how far that gets a pretty girl, Sharon. I’ll keep working, thanks.” Christina shoveled french fries in her mouth and tried not to think of her mother or Leanne, or even the dumb things she’d done to try to make some man love her enough.
Looks might catch a guy’s interest, but she’d never succeeded in hooking the right kind of man.
“Beau was no loss, honey. You should have seen the fight he started in this place. Ugly temper.” Sharon shook her head. “Older guy. One with some miles on him, but an appreciation for a pretty smile and some brains. That’s what you need.”
Beau had never been about forever. He’d been about distraction and wanting to pretend someone cared about what happened to her. He’d fixed that about three minutes after Leanne had shown up and told him she was ready to take him up on his offer.
If that was what happened. The timing could have been pure coincidence.
She needed to stop listening for the bits of gossip she picked up during the morning rush.
More than that, once she got her car keys back, she needed to lock up the cabin and hit the road. There was nothing left for her here anymore. Leanne didn’t care enough about her, either.
Parker’s sweet face flashed through her mind. Whatever Leanne had screwed up in her life, her son was so kind and genuine that he was impossible not to love more than life itself. Saying goodbye to Sweetwater and the gossip and Leanne’s mistakes would mean missing out on Parker’s future.
But if Brett had his way, she’d miss most of it anyway. There had to be a path to pull the family back together. Maybe Brett was better off without Leanne. There was no maybe to it, especially if Leanne had slipped into her old ways.
Could Leanne ever be healthier or happier without Brett? Was running away her attempt at finding out?
But her kids... Didn’t they need to know her?
Christina had spent most of her life with no father, but losing her mother... She gulped and tried not to choke on the last bite of hamburger. Grief still blindsided her sometimes. Both Riley and Parker needed a mother in their lives.
But what if she only brought them drama and disappointment? What then? Were Parker and Riley better off learning to live without Leanne?
Sharon snatched the burger basket off the bar and slid a root beer toward her. “Can’t tell what you’re thinking, but you’re burning brain cells. Take a few hours away from the worry.”
Sharon was right. Nothing she plotted could change Tuesday night at the Branch.
Part of the answer was easy enough. Brett was the key to everything. If she wanted to see Riley and Parker, or get Leanne some contact with her kids, which might help stabilize her, she had to work on Brett.
Apparently, he was traveling. That might give her some time for inspiration.
When the first group of tourists chattered over the threshold, fishermen fresh off a day on one of the local rivers or lakes by the looks of them, Christina tied a knot in her T-shirt to make sure her curves were easy to see, picked up her tray and put some swing in her step.
The rest of the night was a blur, and she was grateful Sharon kept her word about the ride home when Sharon’s truck stopped in front of her cabin with a loud groan. “Twenty minutes out of my way,” Sharon grumbled as Christina slowly got out of the truck.
“For nearly eight hours of free labor,” Christina said as she stretched her legs and felt the solid weight of the cash in her pocket. “Can I do it again Friday?”
Sharon snorted. “Yeah. Still think you ought to find yourself a honey, get married and set up house somewhere.”
Christina waved and unlocked the cabin door. One solid slam of her shoulder against the wood opened it with a loud squeak.
If she stayed in Sweetwater, she should think about fixing up the place.
With all her spare money lying around, taking up space, that is.
Once inside, Christina dropped down on the couch, toed off her shoes and draped one arm over her face. Getting to the campground on time would mean an early morning, but the extra cash she’d earned tonight was a nice start on the new car fund.
Before she could make herself brush her teeth or wash her face or peel off the gross clothes she’d been wearing through bacon grease and spilled beer, Christina was asleep. Only the alarm on her phone saved her from missing her shift at the restaurant completely. Running late, she hustled up the mountain.
When Woody rolled to a stop next to her, she nearly cried with relief. Every conversation starter Woody launched, Christina shot down, until she finally said, “Need my caffeine, Woody. I’ll talk to you after the first cup.”
He saluted with a happy grin and immediately began whistling a tune that was off-key enough that she couldn’t figure out what it might be. If she’d had more energy, she would explain to him how early-morning whistling should be punishable by jail time, but because of him, she wasn’t too late. Her admirer from Monday hadn’t shown up and the view of the lake with the mountains behind, that drew all their visitors, was as beautiful as ever.
She refilled Woody’s cup promptly and checked the time. They’d made it almost through her shift. It was clear he was hanging around with the hopes of being her chauffeur again. “Woody, you know I appreciated the ride you gave me yesterday. But I can’t take advantage of you any longer.” You generous old coot. “You saved me this morning. I can find my own way home. Walk will do me good.” She stretched and realized she was telling the truth.
He studied her face for a minute before he slapped both hands on the spotless counter and said, “Guess I’ll see if I can’t get out on that lake and rustle the wife up some dinner, then.”
Christina nodded. “That’s the perfect thing. Every woman loves a man who provides.” His shoulders straightened and he tugged his hat down, a man determined to prove his worth.
“You need a ride, you call me, Chrissy.” He waited for her nod and she wondered how she’d gotten lucky enough to find her own knight in camo ball cap. Since he was the only man who’d offered her a hand without a long list of demands in return, Woody was quickly edging out the slim competition for the top spot on her list of favorite people. It would be easy to take advantage of his kindness, but she’d learned the hard way not to depend on others when she could take care of herself.
As soon as she’d rung Woody up and cleared the last of her tables, she stuck her head in the manager’s office. “I’m out, Luisa, unless you need anything else.”
“Nope, get going. Can’t remember the last time you had three days off in a row,” Luisa said as she brushed her dark braid back over her shoulder. “That’s practically a vacation. Got any plans?”
“Not really.” Christina wasn’t sure she was all that happy about the time off, since money had become necessary as air, but given how she felt right now, she could sleep for days. “If something comes up, call me. I’ll still pick up any shifts I can.”
Otherwise, hitchhiking into town to beg for more work from Sharon would be her only option.
The thought of it made her tired.
By the time she walked back down to her cabin, those days off might be completely necessary. Her blisters had blisters. She’d made a nice wad of cash, but the hustle was a killer. “See you, girl.” Luisa handed her a check, and then turned to answer the ringing phone.
At some point, Christina need to fire up her laptop, do some hunting for a cheap car, but that would mean taking the long walk back up to the restaurant to use the Wi-Fi and she didn’t want to contemplate that.
Walking down the two-lane road, she realized what a beautiful day it was. Large, old growth trees meant the road was shady, and there was little traffic. She was in no hurry. And she did some of her best thinking along this stretch. This was something she’d learned: walking soothed her. This area was perfectly calm. As she listened to the birds chirping, the anxiety quieted. She had cash in her pocket, a place to live and a solid job. Things had been worse.
Leanne needed her help, and Christina couldn’t turn her back on those kids. With her free time, the solution of what to do about angry, self-righteous Brett Hendrix would appear. She hoped.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u353e52af-a712-5854-abe6-e3630d7c72ef)
THE FIRST PHONE CALL Wednesday morning was a surprise, but Brett had turned the ringer on his phone off while he listened to a lecture on the importance of diversity in hiring, so he didn’t have a chance to answer it. There was no voice mail. He decided it wasn’t an emergency and didn’t duck out of the lecture.
The thing about both of the sessions he’d already sat through was that he understood the reasoning behind diversity and drug task force de-escalation training, but they were already pursuing both at the reserve. He was living it day to day. Were there any helpful hints or tried-and-true tactics proven to improve either? Not really.
He stifled a sigh as he studied the course outline for the next day of training.
The second time his phone vibrated with an incoming call, he turned it over to see the Sweetwater school district’s number. He closed his eyes for a long moment. Parker’s cough had turned into something more. Of course it had.
And the school was calling him instead of his mother. That was the course he and the principal had agreed on the last time this happened, but it was going to mean an inconvenient string of phone calls. He’d taken an inconspicuous spot in the back row out of fear that this might happen, so he quietly stepped outside.
He hit Redial and paced back and forth in front of the line of tiny windows looking out over the packed parking lot. Praying that his mother would be able to handle whatever the emergency was didn’t help much, but it was all he had.
“Sweetwater Schools,” Janet Abernathy chirped in her perky phone voice. “How may I direct your call?”
“Janet, it’s Brett Hendrix. I assume Parker’s developed a fever and needs to go home?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to imagine how much stress this situation was going to cause.
“Oh yes, he’s a sick little boy. Nurse says he should go to the doctor.” Janet sighed. “Honey, I tried calling your mama, too, but I didn’t get an answer. That’s why you got the double ring.”
The thing about living in a small town like Sweetwater was that everybody was in everyone’s business. Most of the time, that irritated him to no end. Sometimes it could be a help, though.
“I’m in Nashville for training.” Brett pressed his fingers over his dry eyes and tried not to wish for a wife who would help out with things like this. That was wasting brainpower. “I’ll get her on the phone and send her over.”
“Okay, then,” Janet said. “Right now, he’s stretched out on the bed in the nurse’s office, cold compress on his forehead, but I can tell he feels awful. He didn’t even say thank you when I gave him his grape juice and that is not Parker.” Her concern was sweet and easy to hear. If he could pick a grandmother out of a catalog for his kids, she would sound like Janet Abernathy in that moment: caring, steady, ready to jump in with both feet. “Should I call Riley out of class?”
That would be a big help if his daughter could be forced to care about anything other than her own aches. Five years ago, Riley had babied her brother like her favorite toy. Now Brett had a hard time imagining Riley would do anything other than make things worse. Besides that, she was a kid. It wasn’t fair to expect her to take his place. “Not right now. Let me get my mother on the phone. If it will be any longer than fifteen minutes before she’s there, I’ll be in touch.”
As he ended the call, Brett checked the time. Almost noon. Surely his mother was out of bed for the second time by now. She got up to get the kids out the door, and then went back to bed until a “reasonable” hour.
“This better be reasonable,” Brett muttered as he punched his mother’s number. The contrast between Janet Abernathy’s sweet concern and what he expected from his mother was amazing in an awful way. Brett tried to clear his mind. When she didn’t answer the first call, his annoyance ticked up a notch. His job was important, and this was a requirement for the promotion he’d lucked into.
On the third try, his jaw was locked so tightly with tension that it was almost impossible to speak when she answered by saying, “What is it? What is so important?” It didn’t take two seconds to understand why she hadn’t answered immediately.
“Are you at the casino, Diane?” Brett asked. Not that he needed to. Someone close by hit a jackpot, and he could hear the victory music and tinny sounds of fake coins hitting metal.
“I am, but I’ll be home in time to meet the bus.” Her quick answer was evidence that she’d spent some time considering what to say if he called.
The slur on the last word immediately sent Brett’s anxiety into overdrive. “Have you been drinking?”
“Yes, but I’m done now. I’ll be sober in time to meet the kids by three.” His mother spoke carefully. She didn’t want a lecture. He had no time to give one.
“Parker needs to be picked up now. Not at three. He’s sick.” Brett pressed his hand against his forehead as he immediately searched for another option. Leanne was gone. He was hours away. His mother would have time to sober up and collect the kids before he could make it back to Sweetwater, and that was if he drove the whole distance with sirens blazing.
If he did that, he might as well turn in his badge and gun because no law enforcement agency in the country would overlook an abuse like that.
Maybe Ash? If he called his boss, Ash would step up. That was the kind of guy he was.
“Listen, just...” Brett didn’t even know what to say anymore. He hung up the phone with a click, sick with panic and the realization that whatever he did would mean he’d be facing the loss of his job.
Needing his boss to step up for babysitting duty would leave a permanent mark on his record, even if the guy was good through and through.
Brett paced closer to the door, one hand squeezing his nape. He scrolled through his phone, desperate for another solution. Janet Abernathy was so kind she’d step in to help, but could he ask an acquaintance to get his son to the doctor? Besides, she was at work with an important job to do.
When he scrolled back up and passed Christina’s name, Brett cursed under his breath.
Parker loved Christina. Out of all the choices he had, his son would choose her, even above his grandmother. Christina had her issues, mainly a bad reputation she’d earned early and a worse attitude, but she’d always been magic with his kids.
He gulped hard as he hit her number. What would it hurt to ask? He’d owe her a favor. That was easy enough.
“Hello?” Christina said, suspicion clear in her voice. “It says Brett Hendrix, but the Brett I know wouldn’t call me if he was on fire and I had the only bucket of water in town.”
There it was, the reaction he’d expected. Reaching out to her was a mistake. Brett squeezed the phone hard and battled the urge to end the call with a quick jab of his finger.
“I need your help.” His voice was gravelly, like the words were forced out around the brick wall he’d put up between the two of them. With this one call, he was weakening the protection he’d built for Parker and Riley. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it. “Parker needs you.”
“What’s going on?” she said immediately. Every bit of sarcasm was gone. All Brett heard was alert concern. That was the kind of reaction he wanted from his mother. “What does he need?”
Christina would help. Somewhere deep inside, he’d known she would. Some tiny bit of relief trickled into his brain and it was easier to think.
“Parker is sick at school. I’m in Nashville and my mother’s in Cherokee at the casino. The nurse thinks he needs to go to a doctor, but you could take a look at him when you get there and...” Brett cleared his throat. “Nope, I need you to pick him up and take him to the doctor.” She didn’t have kids. What did she know about fevers and making the decision to get professional help? It was better to get a trained person’s opinion. He wouldn’t trust Parker with anything less.
“Can you do that?” Brett heard the order lacing his tone. Putting a question mark on the end didn’t change much, but it would prevent her from hanging up.
“Yes,” Christina snapped. “Officer, I am on the job.” Then she cursed. “But I don’t have a car.” He could hear the panic edging into her voice. “I’ll call Woody. If he’s not out on the lake, he’s in town. It won’t take long.”
From the tension in her voice, he could tell she was doing the mental spinning he’d been doing before he’d contacted her. Between the two of them, they could come up with a solution. This was what he did, levelheaded planning. Why was it easier to do that with her than on his own? “What about my old truck? Can you walk over to the station and get it? How long would that take?”
He drove the reserve’s SUV most places, but the beat-up truck he kept on hand was nice for heading deep into the woods. No scratches mattered, and he could get away. Keeping it felt too sentimental most days, but it might save the day today. “Keys are in the glove compartment.”
“Okay, ten minutes up, and then I’m headed into town.” Christina’s voice was breathy as if she was already on the move. He appreciated the immediate response. How nice would it be to have someone like that around all the time? Christina didn’t complain or question; she moved. That was enough to ease some of his worry in that moment. If he had someone else like her in his life, he wouldn’t be the only one shouldering every problem alone.
Then he realized that it was still Christina on the other end of the call. There were about six different ways she could mess this up. “Call me when you get to the school, please. I’ll let them know you’re coming. You aren’t on the list, so it might take some talking on your part, but if—”
“Can’t talk, Brett, I’m running up a mountain,” Christina said before she ended the call. The return of her normal sassy tone was reassuring. He didn’t have anything solved yet, but things were not so out of control as before. As he imagined her racing up the road to the station, he wondered what sort of reports the rangers might get about a crazy jogger and smiled.
Christina had never worried overmuch about what people said about her. That was a quality he should try to grow himself.
While he waited, Brett called the school. Janet didn’t sound any surer of his final solution than he’d felt staring down his only option, but she agreed to let Parker go with Christina. Then he peeked back inside the classroom.
He should gather up his stuff and hit the road.
There was no way he’d be getting what he needed or even what he could manage to sift through and find from these classes. Not now. He’d be worried about his son and his mother and the last-chance solution he’d dragged back into the mix.
Remembering Ash’s serious face when he’d said it was time to finish the training or else made Brett pause with his hand on the door. Parker needed a doctor and a prescription. Christina could manage that. His mother would be home eventually. She loved her grandkids in her own way. He had a plan that could work.
But Christina was still in contact with Leanne. She’d mentioned a phone call the last time he ran into her. What if Christina seized this chance to do something crazy, like take Parker to Leanne, wherever she was now? When his wife had first run off, he’d refused to investigate. She’d always been wild. And she would do like she’d always done, turn back up when everyone least expected it, knocked down and desperate for help.
Leanne would always upset whatever normal life he managed to carve out.
Quitting the management class would be easy. He’d already postponed it twice because of upheaval at home. It would also derail his career. Ash had made it simple. He could fish or cut bait.
Half a second from throwing in the towel and forcing himself to come up with some other career choice on the long drive home, Brett stopped when his phone rang.
“I’m at the school. Parker’s with me.” Christina’s voice was tight with anger. “He should never have been sent to school today.”
“I figured.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool metal of the door frame. “I’ll head back as soon as I can. Can you stay with him until I get there?”
“We’re headed into Gatlinburg right now.” Christina cursed as the truck slipped its gears with a loud groan. “If this rust bucket makes it that far. I can’t believe the situations I get myself in.”
Brett understood her completely.
He’d never imagined he’d be a single dad, either.
“Yeah, I get that. Please, take him to the doctor, and then straight back home. If I hear that Leanne gets a visit or finds her way back into my house because of this, I will—”
“I don’t know where she is, Brett. Save your breath and your threats for some other woman who isn’t doing her best to get a sick boy some medication all the while driving a truck that should have been turned into scrap metal ten years ago.” Christina cursed under her breath as the truck groaned again. “Sorry, Parks. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Since the truck provoked the same reaction from him until he worked the kinks out, it was impossible to be mad about her language. The fact that she felt it necessary to apologize to his son and explain why convinced Brett she had enough love for the kid to pull it off.
“Can you stay with him?” Brett repeated as he tried to calculate how long he’d be. “I’ll be home by ten.” He thought he could do that without breaking the law too much.
“Listen,” Christina said before she paused, “don’t do anything crazy. I hear your panic. Until I picked him up, I shared it. He’s okay. I solemnly vow to do nothing other than what you’ve asked me to do. Do the right thing for you, Brett. I can handle this. Here, talk to Parker while I make this right turn.”
Brett could see the crowded intersection in his mind. In that truck, she’d have to concentrate.
“Hi, Dad, sorry I’m sick.” Parker’s voice was husky, as if a cough or congestion had roughened it, but otherwise he sounded fine. “Diane thought it was allergies.”
Yeah, she’d thought the same thing every time he’d had a cold himself. “No problem, bud. Aunt Chris is going to get you some cough medicine, some other stuff to help if you have an infection.”
“I should be all better by the time you get home and we can go fishing.” Parker’s voice perked up, and Brett relaxed. His son wasn’t dealing with the end of his career or the panic over finding reliable help or even the anger of his mother walking out. He was focused on one of his favorite things: fishing at Otter Lake with Brett. No matter what else happened in this world, his son was okay. He wasn’t broken by being left in a school office all alone. He was okay.
“We’ll see. Let me talk to Aunt Chris again. I love you, Parker.” Brett dodged the crowd that poured out the doors of the classroom and eased back in to pick up his stuff. By the time their break was over, he could be on the road to Sweetwater.
“Everything is under control, Officer. I’ll hang with Parker and Riley when the bus comes until your mother makes it home. There’s no need to drop everything.” Christina sighed. “That’s what you’re planning, right? To come back now because nothing and no one will be okay until you’re back in control?”
The sting of her words might have hurt, but it was impossible to argue with them.
“If he was your son, you’d do the same thing.” Brett wasn’t sure he’d ever considered the question about what kind of mother Christina would be, but at this point, it was front and center. He’d watched her with Parker and Riley ever since they were born. She’d always been as fiercely proud of the kids and protective against any slights as Leanne had, but she’d never once walked away from them. She was saving him, even though he’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her.
Christina’s loyalty to his kids was beyond reproach.
“I’ll lose my job if I bail on this training session.” As soon as the admission slipped out of his mouth, he regretted it. Giving her any sense of his weakness meant she’d have an opportunity to exploit it.
The silence on the other end of the call almost had him convinced it had dropped as she’d moved through the hills of East Tennessee.
He was prepared to end the call when she said, “Stay, Brett. Your mother and I have this handled.”
He wanted to argue.
Nothing he could come up with would have sounded sincere.
“I’ll pay you for babysitting them, Christina.” Twice what she deserved, obviously. “You can name your price.”
Her disgusted huff of breath prepared him. “I’m not going to charge you for getting to spend time with my niece and nephew, you stiff-necked, pompous...” Whatever she saw, hopefully his son’s inquisitive face, stopped Christina in her tracks. “But I’m keeping the truck and the keys for...a week. It’s the least you can do.”
Brett blinked slowly. She was right. It was the least he could do. In fact, if he’d been a more generous person, he’d have already offered her that when he heard about Leanne taking her car.
She could have asked for the world in return for her help. At the very least, she could have bargained hard for Leanne. Instead, she was only asking for the one thing a good neighbor would easily loan to another.
What was wrong with him? When had he become so hard?
“Definitely. You drive the truck as long as you need it, but I’m going to help you with...something.” He wasn’t sure what she needed most, a car or money, and he didn’t have much extra lying around the house, but he wanted her to understand how much he appreciated her stepping up.
“Can’t stand owing me a favor, can you?”
Brett hoped Parker didn’t hear the bitter tone of her laugh. They had so much history, all of it tangled and angry at this point. But she’d still come through when he needed her. How long would it take for the bad taste in his mouth over his complete lack of choices and the slight pinch of shame over how he’d cut her from his life in a self-righteous act labeled “protecting his children” to disappear?”
“You know me pretty well.” Of course she did. They’d grown up together. She could exploit so many of his weaknesses if she wanted, anytime, but she’d had that power all along and never used it. “Guess that’s something we have in common, the stubborn refusal to accept help.”
It wasn’t much in the way of a return volley, but he could live with it.
“Be prepared for payback. It won’t mean writing a check, either. I don’t want to sneak around to check up on Parker and Riley, not anymore.” Christina ended the call before he could say anything else or give her orders on what to do at the doctor’s office or when to call him. The rest of the class filed back into the room before he could hit the return button.
Then he realized what she’d said. She’d been sneaking around, visiting his kids behind his back? He would have sworn he knew everything happening with Parker and Riley.
He couldn’t investigate that now. Brett had a choice. Either he could gamble his career and race back to Sweetwater to take care of the most important thing in his life, his family.
Or...
He could trust the woman he’d been treating as completely untrustworthy for years to take care of Parker. That would mean admitting to and dealing with his own mistakes.
As the instructor stepped back up to the whiteboard, Brett decided to live with the anxiety and the worry and settled into his seat.
Never once in the time he’d known Christina and Leanne had Christina gotten herself in the type of trouble she couldn’t get out of. She would protect Parker with every hard lesson and clever trick she’d learned.
Living with the decision to keep his job instead of racing home to Parker would take some doing.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u353e52af-a712-5854-abe6-e3630d7c72ef)
“YOU STILL WITH ME, PARKS?” Christina said as she jerked to a stop in the parking lot of the closest urgent care place she could think of on the road down to Gatlinburg. Parker only knew that his doctor was in the city, but he couldn’t remember his name or his office.
Riley hadn’t answered her phone when Christina had tried sending up an SOS. Christina absolutely refused to consider calling Brett. He didn’t think she could do this, and his comment about not turning this into an opportunity to let Leanne in had made her angry enough to spit. The thought hadn’t occurred to her until he’d planted the seed.
If Leanne found out about this afternoon and that Christina hadn’t called her or more, she would be angry. Christina tightened her hands on the steering wheel. She’d have to worry about that later.
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