A Daughter for Christmas Page 11

  She’d been waiting for this day for so long, waiting for Alice to talk to her again. And when it happened, it was a conversation about a pig. She laughed, slapping her hand over her mouth. A conversation about a pig with Alice talking as if she’d never stopped.

  Closing her eyes, Eve whispered, “Thank You. Thank You for this place and a piglet named Hamlet. Thank You for my resilient little warrior.”

  Remembering her phone was in the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled it out and texted Tanner.

  Seeking owner of missing piglet who is the wearer of tutus and recipient of many kisses. And who would like his dad to come and pick him up ASAP.

  Alice was standing frozen in the door to the hall when Eve looked up. Her face was pale, expression stricken.

  “Sweetie, I know you love him, but Hamlet has to go back. We don’t have what we need to take care of him here.”

  With tears hanging on her lashes, Alice asked, “Is Mr. Tanner gonna be mad at me?”

  “Oh, baby, no.” Eve picked up her sweet girl—who’d seen anger in its most destructive form—and wrapped her in a hug. “You don’t have to worry that Mr. Tanner will be mad. But you do have to tell him you’re sorry.”

  “Okay,” Alice whispered, hiding her eyes in Eve’s shoulder.

  At the knock, Alice jumped. Eve patted her back. “Let’s go open the door together.”

  Eve pulled open the door. Tanner stood there in his jeans and boots, looking larger than life. He must’ve seemed enormous to Alice. But she slid to her feet, straightening the skirt of her frilly pink nightgown. In a tiny voice, she said, “I’m sorry I took Hamlet without asking.”

  Tanner’s eyes darted to Eve’s. “Talking?”

  “Yeah, that just happened.”

  Tanner took his hat off and stooped down to Alice’s level. “Okay, so it’s not cool to take people’s things—er, pigs—without asking, but I’m not mad at you. I forgive you for making a mistake.”

  He glanced up at Eve, a question in his eyes. She nodded—his response was perfect.

  Almost inaudible, Alice said, “You’re not like the angry man.”

  Tanner’s eyebrows drew together. “You mean the one at your school that your mom told me about?”

  Alice took Tanner’s hand and dragged him along behind her to the table, where she dug in her art box and came out with a piece of paper folded many times. She handed it to him.

  “I’ve never seen that,” Eve said softly.

  Tanner unfolded the picture. On one side of the page was a small stick figure holding what looked like a very large, very black gun. The man holding the gun had a scary face with slashes for eyebrows and mouth.

  Eve pressed her fist against her mouth, holding in the anguish she felt as a mother as she saw what Alice had locked inside with the words.

  There was another stick figure drawn on the other side of the paper. Tanner pointed to it. “Is that your teacher? She must’ve been scared. I bet you were scared, too.”

  Alice shook her head. “Mama.”

  “Oh, Alice.” Eve couldn’t stop the tear that rolled down her cheek, but she swiped it away before Alice could see it.

  “That’s your mama in the picture?”

  Alice nodded. “The angry man made her cry.”

  Tanner was silent for a long moment as he studied the picture Alice drew. Then he folded it, crease by crease, back the way she’d had it. He asked soberly, “Would you like me to keep this for you?”

  When she nodded, he carefully tucked it into his back pocket and held out his hands for hers. “Alice, I want you to look at me, because this is important. I promise that no matter how mad I get at you or at Mama, I will never hurt you. Okay?”

  She studied his face with eyes too serious for a four-year-old, but then she smiled. “Okay.”

  Tanner smiled back. “Now, shall we go find Sir Hamlet, faithful and loyal knight to the beautiful Princess Alice?”

  With a giggle, Alice skipped back to the bedroom, Tanner following. A few minutes later, he returned with the piglet over his arm. “He was sound asleep in the middle of her drawer. You might have to do some laundry. Sorry about that.”

  Eve still stood by the kitchen table, her feet rooted to the floor, her heart shattered.

  Tanner touched her arm. “She said she wanted to play on her tablet for a while. She and Sadie are on the bed together. Eve, she seems okay—better, even.”

  “Thank you.”

  He frowned. “So, I’m trying to piece this together. It wasn’t really her teacher that was threatened?”

  “No. I mean yes, there really was a domestic violence incident in her classroom, but...”

  “So it wasn’t you? Alice was confused?”

  Eve walked to the window and looked out, fighting to get her emotions under control. After all they’d been through in the last twenty-four hours, the decorations she’d hung so lovingly and hopefully seemed garish. Tacked on. Maybe in hopes of plastering over the bad memories she’d moved here to leave behind. Or maybe—if she were being kind to herself—in hopes of making new, better memories.

  She turned back to Tanner, resolute. “What Alice drew actually happened. It was the last time she saw her father.”

  “He threatened you?”

  “When Brent came back from his first tour of duty, he was messed up. He had PTSD and outbursts. It happens more than you think. I’m not making excuses for him. It just is what it is. After that night, he left us and went to live with his parents. And then he went back to war.” She’d always wondered if he knew he wouldn’t come back. If there was anything she could’ve done to stop him. Hand to her chest, she rubbed the ache that was always just there. “You must think I’m crazy for talking about the ornaments and what he was like when he was a little boy. For missing him.”

  Tanner shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re generous and loving and...amazing for being able to see beyond the illness he had to the person underneath, the person you loved.”

  She studied his sincere face, sighed. “Alice was so young, and she never mentioned it or asked about it. How did I not know she had that memory locked away in that little mind of hers?”

  Tanner scratched his head, an impatient gesture. “Okay, first, if she didn’t show any signs of being upset by it, how would you know? And second, I’m no psychologist or whatever, but it seems likely that what happened at her school brought up this old memory.”

  Eve nodded. “You’re right. I have the name of a therapist who understands childhood trauma, and I’ve been meaning to call her. I think I need to make Alice an appointment.”

  “Maybe an appointment for you wouldn’t hurt, either?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I will if you will.”

  He laughed. “I’ll take it under advisement. C’m’ere.”

  Tanner pulled Eve into a one-armed hug, both of them laughing when the piglet squealed indignantly. He murmured against her head, “Alice is a great kid, and that’s because she has such an awesome mom.”

  “Stop being nice to me. I’ll never stop crying.” Eve stepped back and laughed again through a curtain of tears. “You were perfect with her today. I can’t thank you enough.”

  He grinned. “Well, I promised her she could feed Hamlet breakfast tomorrow, so you can thank me by bringing her up to the house at the crack of dawn.”

  Eve groaned as Tanner opened the door.

  He looked back. “The good news of the day is that the insurance agent is going to cut us a check so we can get construction started and hopefully replace what was lost in the fire.”

  “That is good news.”

  “Get some rest. You look like you’re about to fall over.” His dimple deepened. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

  * * *

  Tanner sat next to Alice on the porch swing at
the farmhouse the following day. Alice held Hamlet in her arms while Tanner kept one hand on the pig’s backside, holding him in place while he sucked down a baby bottle full of formula.

  Eve sat in a chair next to the front door. The sun was barely over the horizon, but she had on sunglasses. He was reasonably certain she was asleep behind them. She hadn’t moved, not even a twitch, for the past five minutes.

  Devin leaned against the front door, a mug of coffee in his hand, one of the twins strapped to him in a carrier, also sound asleep.

  Garrett sat on the top step, wearing work clothes instead of his lawyer getup. He hadn’t said a word since he arrived fifteen minutes ago, had only poured himself a cup of coffee and joined the rest of them on the porch.

  They were all feeling the strain. They’d been stretched thin already, and the fire put them all over the edge of exhaustion.

  A car Tanner didn’t recognize drove down the lane toward the house. “Who is that?”

  “Looks like the mayor,” Garrett said.

  “You oughta know, considering she’s your law partner.” Devin’s voice was dry.

  A pickup truck turned in next, followed by another and another.

  Wynn Grant and her husband, Latham, got out of her car. “Hey, guys.”

  “Morning.” Tanner walked to the top of the steps as a group of men, around a dozen, clustered around Wynn. “What’s all this?”

  A flatbed truck full of lumber rumbled down the lane. The mayor of Red Hill Springs grinned. “Just neighbors being neighborly, Tanner.”

  Tanner slowly stepped down to the ground level, flanked by Devin and Garrett. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

  Wynn beckoned two men forward. “James and Ezra Miller, meet Tanner, Devin and Garrett Cole.”

  To Tanner, she said, “James and Ezra met with me yesterday about opening a cabinetry and woodworking shop in town. Just so happens, they’re also experts in barn building. They can’t build your new barn back in a day—that’s gonna take some time. But with Latham helping, they might be able to get your old barn spiffed up and ready for your new residents after Christmas.”

  Latham Grant held out a hand. “Good to see you, Tanner. Sorry about your barn. I was looking forward to seeing the finished product.”

  A few other guys—friends he’d grown up with—nodded their heads, murmured their agreement.

  “These guys—” she hooked a thumb at them “—came to help with the farmwork and the cleanup.”

  Tanner was sincerely taken aback. “I really appreciate that, but y’all don’t have to—”

  Joe Sheehan—the chief of police for Red Hill Springs and Wynn’s brother—said, “We don’t have to, but I haven’t forgotten how everyone stepped in to help us after the tornado messed up our house a few years back. I promised myself I’d return the favor when I had the chance. And pretty much everyone here is in the same boat I’m in.”

  The others nodded again. Tommy Hammond said, “This is what neighbors do. We help each other. So you tell us what needs doing, and we’ll get to it.”

  Devin stepped forward to shake the two men’s hands as Tanner turned to Wynn, his own hands spread in front of him. “How did you pull this off? How did you even know what was going on? It’s barely been a day since the fire.”

  “Abby,” Wynn said simply. “We’ve been on the phone pretty much nonstop since the fire.”

  “And the lumber?”

  She grinned. “Oh, I twisted some arms to get Masonwood to issue you a line of credit until your insurance check comes through. The Mennonite carpenters were just good timing. You don’t have to do this alone, Tanner. All you have to do is say yes.”

  After his wife died, he’d blocked pretty much everyone out of his life. After a while, it had become a habit, so much so that he’d forgotten what real community could be like.

  Tanner looked at the group of people standing around, some he’d known his whole life and some he’d never met, all who’d come together simply to help. He was overwhelmed. He couldn’t get the words out over the huge lump in his throat.

  “Say thank you,” Devin prompted, garnering a laugh from the small group.

  Tanner turned to the cluster of men standing by, waiting for his answer. “I’d be stupid to say no. Thank you. Thank you all so much for being here. Devin, if you’ll show the carpentry crew where to take a look at the old barn, I’ll take a few to get started feeding the cows and pigs. Garrett, do you want to show the others how to cut and hang the cotton?”

  “Sure,” Garrett said. “If you’ve got a good back, this is the job for you.”

  Tanner jogged up the steps to Alice and Eve, who still sat on the porch, visibly stunned. “Alice, do you mind putting Sir Hamlet back in his house?” When she nodded he held his fist out for a bump. “Thanks. You’ll be around later, Eve?”

  “For sure. I’ll head to the grocery store as soon as it opens. I have a feeling there might be some mouths to feed.” She smiled and though she was tired and emotionally drained, as they all were, he could see a twinkle of hope glimmering in her eyes.

  It had been a week. But they were still standing, and together they would find a way to survive this.

  It’s what they did.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eve dumped an armload of full grocery bags onto the kitchen table. “I’m so glad your sweet nanny is letting Alice play with the babies. I bought pimento cheese, ham and peanut butter and jelly. White bread. Wheat. Small bags of chips. Sodas.”

  Wynn Grant, sleeves rolled up and a dish towel tucked in her jeans, closed the door to the oven. “I’ve just made a whole sheet pan of lunch-lady brownies, so we should have plenty of dessert, too. I don’t think we’ve met officially. You’re Eve, right?”

  “Depends on what you’ve heard about this Eve person.”

  Wynn stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing. “I think you’re gonna fit in just fine in this town.”

  Eve grinned. “Thanks. I might not be a resident for much longer, though, if I don’t get some traction with my business.”

  Lacey looked up from laying out slices of bread. “Eve has an online store for graphic design. T-shirts and stuff. She was storing a big shipment of T-shirts in the new barn.”

  “Did you make the one you have on?” Wynn looked intrigued.

  “Yep.” Eve pulled back the flannel she’d tossed on over one of the new Triple Creek Ranch T-shirts and jeans this morning.

  “You designed the logo?” When Eve nodded, Wynn said, “It’s good. Let me think about it for a while. Maybe there’s a way to flip this into a positive for you.”

  “That would be great.” To Lacey, Eve said, “Do you have a big basket anywhere that I can use for chips?”

  “Check the pantry–slash–laundry room–slash–pig nursery. Through that door.”

  Eve laughed. “I’m guessing that’s Hamlet’s bedroom?”

  “For now. I’ve been trying to get Tanner to put him back in the pasture, but between you and me, he’s pretty attached. Tanner to the pig, not the other way around.” Lacey spread peanut butter onto the last slice of bread.

  “My daughter is also very attached. If I didn’t know what that pig was going to look like in six months, I feel pretty sure he’d already be sleeping under her bed.”

  Wynn finished washing the bowl she’d mixed up the brownies in and turned off the water. She turned back to Eve and Lacey as she picked up a dish towel and dried it. “So, Eve, last night Abby mentioned that you’ve been working with Lacey on the party for the foster families in our county. The decorations were being stored in the barn, too?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Once you figure out what you still need, let’s get together and work on it. I made a list of ladies who’d love to donate supplies and help you replace the decorations. Most of them will probably voluntee
r on the day of the party, too, if you need them. I know the plan was to have the party here, but since that may not be an option, I’ve blocked off the schedule at the park in town as a backup.”

  Eve gaped. “How did you manage to do all that so fast?”

  “It’s just a matter of knowing who to call.”

  Lacey raised an eyebrow. “After your years on Capitol Hill, I’m pretty sure you might know how to do a little arm twisting.”

  “Who, me?” Wynn gave her an innocent blink, but her ice-blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “Let’s just say if I did, they’d never feel a thing.”

  With a laugh, Eve made an assembly line with Lacey, placing sandwiches in baggies as Lacey finished them. Wynn handed Lacey another loaf of bread and a container of bright orange spread. “Pimento cheese?”

  “Sure.”

  “Mama?” A small voice at the door caught Eve’s attention, and she turned with a smile, which faded the instant she saw the bloom in Alice’s cheeks. Oh no.

  The nanny, Mrs. Minnifield, had her hand on Alice’s back. “She was playing fine up until about fifteen minutes ago, but she doesn’t look like she feels well.”

  “Thank you so much. I’ll take it from here.” Eve grabbed her bag off the back of the chair and dug around in it until she found the temporal thermometer, which she ran across Alice’s forehead. The monitor beeped: 103. She looked up at her new friends. “I’ve got to go, guys. Alice is sick.”

  “Oh no, Eve,” Lacey said. “Do you want some children’s fever reducer?”

  “I have some, thanks. She probably has strep since I just had it, but we have to get her checked out. She has an immune disorder, so she might need IV antibiotics.” She found herself explaining Alice’s disease for the second time in as many days.

  “My brother’s the pediatrician in town. I could call him for you, if you want me to,” Wynn said.

  Eve slid Alice’s sweater on over the pajamas she still wore. “Thank you. But in this case, we have to skip the pediatrician and go straight to the hospital. It’s protocol for us.”