A Daughter for Christmas Page 9

  “Of course. We’re supposed to have the final inspection and get the certificate of occupancy this week, and then we can start decorating in there for real.”

  “I can’t wait!” She did a little jig, eliciting a chuckle from Tanner.

  Alice came out the front door and onto the porch, holding her shirt up around her tummy. A princess Band-Aid was hanging on by one corner. She saw Tanner and put on a sad face as she pointed to her tummy. “Boo-boo shot.”

  Tanner sat on the step so he would be even with her and gently tapped the bandage back into place. “You had to get a shot?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry, farm girl. If you’re up to it and Mama says it’s okay, do you want to babysit Hamlet this afternoon and help feed him a bottle?”

  Alice nodded vigorously, and Tanner grinned. “Okay. I’ve got to go eat lunch, but if it’s okay with your mom, I’ll come back in a little while and you can help me bring Hamlet back to his family.”

  “Hamlet?” Eve raised an eyebrow.

  Tanner shrugged, but the corners of his mouth tugged up. “It seemed fitting, I don’t know.”

  Twirling back into the house with her sparkly princess skirt—purple this time—floating around her, Alice was adorable. A typical kid. She didn’t give any indication of being sick, but perfectly healthy children didn’t get shots in the stomach.

  He didn’t want to be nosy. Wait. Scratch that. Yes, he did want to be nosy. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to ask her about this since he’d seen the syringes and medicine the day Eve was sick. He lowered his voice. “Eve, does Alice have cancer? Why is she getting a shot?”

  “No, she doesn’t have cancer. You saw the medicine?” When he said yes, she nodded meaningfully toward the door. “She may be back and I try to make all of this as normal as possible for her, so I don’t want her to catch us talking about it.”

  “No problem. Done.” Tanner wasn’t sure why he felt so panicked inside. Except he’d been through the worst possible kind of loss. He didn’t let people into his life, but without even trying, he’d grown attached to these two. And the idea that something serious could be wrong with sweet Alice gutted him.

  Eve picked up a stainless steel bottle of water and took a long sip. “Do you want anything? I have coffee and apple juice. And water.”

  “I don’t want anything. Eve, talk to me. Please.” He leaned one hip on the porch rail while she painted on the makeshift table she’d made out of plywood and a couple of long boards.

  “Alice has what’s called primary autoimmune neutropenia, which is the complicated way of saying her body doesn’t make enough neutrophils, the kind of blood cells that help fight off infections. She gets the injections three times a week to help her not get sick.”

  “Is it—is it serious?”

  When Eve stopped painting and looked at him, he could see the answer in her eyes. “It can be, just because if her counts are superlow, she can’t fight off an infection. We try to minimize the risk of that. If her fever gets over 100.4, we go to the emergency room for evaluation so they can see what’s going on and check her levels. I’ve been super on top of things this week because of my strep infection, but so far, so good.”

  A horrified thought crossed his mind. “Is it safe for her to be around the farm animals?”

  “As long as the medicine keeps her neutrophils in the normal range, yes. She can do anything any other kid can do.” She smiled at her daughter as Alice came out holding a piece of paper with a marker drawing. “Is this for me? I love the colors! Can you draw one for Mrs. Lacey’s fridge, too?”

  Alice flashed a smile and skipped back into the house.

  He took one of the peppermint discs Eve had finished and poked at the paint to make sure it was dry. “Just wrap the stuff around it?” At her nod, he rolled out the cellophane and placed the foam circle in the center. “Are you scared all the time?”

  “I used to be. When she was first diagnosed, I took her temperature four hundred times a day. Now, when I check on her before I go to bed, taking her temperature is just a routine part of it. She doesn’t even know any different.”

  “Will she have to have shots for the rest of her life?”

  Eve raised her shoulders and let them drop. “Most of the time kids outgrow this. She’s had it longer than most, but she’s been through a lot. We’ll do a trial off the medicine when she’s been stable for six months.”

  “What about specialists? We could go to Johns Hopkins. Or what’s that one people always go to? Cleveland Clinic?”

  Quietly, Eve said, “Tanner, I promise, if there were any other answer, I would’ve found it. She goes to one of the top pediatric hematologists in the country, at Children’s of Atlanta.”

  He straightened and paced to the other side of the porch. Why was this so hard for him to wrap his mind around? He knew the answer—because it wasn’t fair. None of this was fair for little Alice. She deserved so much better. “What can I do?”

  Eve drew in a long breath. “Just be here, Tanner. There’s nothing you can...fix. Sometimes that’s the way things are, and all you can do is just be present.”

  Her face was tranquil as she painted red stripes on the disc, and he wondered at her ability to just sit with this and not be angry—although maybe that was something she’d already dealt with.

  “I know, it’s just—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Being present, holding space—it sounded like it should be easy, but just sitting there while a person you cared about struggled wasn’t easy at all. He knew. He’d been through it with Devin’s struggle with addiction.

  “But Tanner, just to be clear, this is what I have to do. I’m her mother. You don’t have to do anything.” She didn’t elaborate further.

  She was trying to let him off the hook, and he grabbed at her words like a lifeline. He should be relieved, because she was right. He didn’t have to do anything. And yet, that didn’t sit right with him.

  He crossed the porch to her, leaning forward from the opposite side of her plywood painting table. “I don’t know—I guess you two are kinda growing on me.”

  “Okay.” She said it calmly, her eyes on his, but her bottom lip trembled. And that small tell nearly did him in.

  “Thank you for telling me. I know it’s probably none of my business, but I’ve been worried ever since I saw the sharps container and the medicine in the refrigerator.”

  “You care about my little girl, and that’s no small thing.” She put down her paintbrush and the half-painted peppermint, and before he could react, she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  She eased back and looked up into his eyes. This close up, he could see that she had a tiny smattering of very pale freckles across her nose and cheekbones. She was so beautiful, it made his heart ache. He closed his arms around her, brought her closer and for maybe the first time in his life didn’t think before he acted. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers.

  For a split second, she stiffened, her green eyes widening. Then she kissed him back, her mouth opening in a smile beneath his.

  He kissed her again and once more. She was pure joy, heady and surprising. He stepped back and stared at her, sliding his hands down to hold hers, his mind whirling with a million wayward thoughts.

  Maybe kissing her was the wrong thing to do. Maybe it was way too soon. Maybe he’d changed their relationship irrevocably. His brain was saying, what were you thinking? But his heart...his heart was saying, do it again.

  “Shut up.”

  At first, he thought he’d said the words aloud, but no, it had been Eve who’d said them.

  He blinked. “What?”

  Her smile broadened. “Just stop. Shut it down. Wherever your mind is going right now, just tell it to be quiet. It’s a kiss. And that’s all it has to be.”

>   His heart was still banging inside his chest, his fingers unsteady. “I’ve got to get back to work. For the record, I’m not running away.”

  She laughed as he took another step away from her. “Okay, you keep telling yourself that.”

  Two more steps and he was halfway to the ATV before he turned, walking backward, his eyes on her. “Hamlet and I’ll stop by to pick up Alice in a little while. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” He swung into the ATV. “And Eve? It might’ve been just a kiss, but it was some kinda kiss.”

  * * *

  Eve tucked Alice in bed, not even pretending to shoo Sadie away when she jumped onto the bed beside the little girl. She’d given up trying to get Tanner’s dog to go home days ago. The big rottweiler turned in circles, finally settling in a spot before she lifted her head and growled.

  Frowning, Eve said, “I know you’re protective and I like it, but if you start trying to protect her from me, we’re gonna have a problem.”

  She reached for Sadie’s head and rubbed it, but as soon as she took her hand away Sadie sniffed the air and growled again. Eve shook her head. “Okay, weird dog. Go to sleep. ’Night, Alice.”

  A sleepy mumble was all she got in return. She scratched Sadie one more time before retreating to the living room. Sadie might have an affinity with Alice that Eve couldn’t understand, but she could be grateful that the sweet dog gave Alice confidence that she hadn’t had before.

  Tanner, too, had a profound impact on Alice. With her purple princess skirt flying, she’d raced out to the ATV to see the piglet she’d helped save and help Tanner release it back into the pasture with the other pigs. Yet, somehow the pig had ended up going home with Tanner again. And Alice hadn’t even mentioned her legs and arms hurting tonight as Eve had washed the farm dirt off her in the bathtub.

  It had been a good day. Of course, Eve had deliberately avoided thinking about the moment on the porch with Tanner. Just a kiss, she’d said to him. Not hardly.

  But how could she tell him how much she was freaking out inside? She stopped at the sink and rinsed their supper plates and cups, placing them in the dishwasher. Or that she felt connected to him in a way that she couldn’t understand? Kind of like her daughter and the dog, a thought which elicited a snicker.

  Obviously, she couldn’t tell him that. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them, she thought, as she dropped a dishwashing tab into the dishwasher and turned it on.

  She might be a planner, but she needed to take her own advice and just let it be. Not think about how his lips felt on hers. How strong and reassuring his arms felt wrapped about her. How tender the look in his eyes was as he gazed down at her.

  Or how panicked he got when his brain reengaged.

  She laughed softly to herself as she sat down and looked for the Bluetooth speaker. Ah, she’d left it on the front porch this afternoon when she’d been working on the decorations. Her Christmas playlist was getting a workout this week.

  Sadie beat her to the front door, scratching on the wood as Eve reached for the doorknob. “Sadie, what’s your deal? Do you just need to go out?”

  She followed the dog into the yard, lifting her head in much the same way Sadie did. The scent of chimney smoke on the air was cozy. Someone was enjoying sitting in front of a fire on this chilly night.

  The smell was really strong, almost burning her eyes. She squinted as she looked out, peering through the trees for the porch light on the farmhouse. The air felt heavy, hazy. And she wondered, with the Cole family gone to church, were any of the neighbors even close enough for her to smell their fire?

  Maybe...if the wind was right.

  Sadie growled again. Uneasy, Eve grabbed a blanket off the swing, wrapped it around her and walked farther into the yard. The smell was stronger out here.

  Where was it coming from?

  She turned a slow circle in the yard. Did she see sparks twirling their way skyward? She glanced back at the cottage, where Alice lay sleeping and walked farther out, where she could see the closest two fields of cotton and the new barn beyond it.

  Oh, dear God. The barn.

  From this vantage point, she could see smoke pouring from under the roof, building and climbing, a gray smudge against a dark sky. She reached for her phone in her back pocket. It wasn’t there.

  Dropping the blanket, Eve ran back to the cottage, throwing open the door. Frantic now, she tried to remember where she left her phone. The last time she remembered having it was when she brushed Alice’s teeth.

  She ran to the bathroom and snatched it up, fingers shaking, and called 911.

  When they answered, her words tumbled one over the other. “There’s a fire at Triple Creek Ranch. It’s at...oh, I don’t even know what the address is. I’m just the tenant.” She sobbed into the phone.

  “It’s okay, dear. I have you on the screen. I’m rolling the volunteer fire department now. Is anyone in the building?”

  “No. No one’s here but me. I have to go. I have to get my daughter out of danger, away from the fire.”

  “All right, ma’am. Help is on the way.”

  Eve hung up the phone and ran outside, looking in the direction of the barn. Sparks were flying higher now, too close for comfort. She had to get Alice out of here.

  Back in the house, she scooped Alice up from the bed, ordered Sadie to come and ran for the front door. She grabbed her keys from a hook and opened the sliding door of the van with the remote.

  She put Alice in the seat. “Sadie, load up.”

  The dog leaped into the back of the van, and Eve closed the door. With no idea if they’d be able to come back, she ran into the house for Alice’s medicine, snatching a backpack up from the floor and shoving things in it—the thermometer, syringes, medicines.

  Fear pulsed through her. She wouldn’t be one of those people who ran back for something stupid and got caught in a fire. She had what she needed. At the last second, as she ran out the door, she picked up the box of ornaments and took them with her to the van.

  Alice had always been one of those kids who could sleep through a hurricane. Eve was thankful she hadn’t woken up. Eve put the van in gear and carefully turned it around, looking back toward the barn as she drove down the lane. Flames were shooting from the roof. Tears formed in her eyes. That beautiful barn. All the plans, all that work.

  Body shaking with adrenaline, she pulled her van around to the side of the farmhouse, where they would be out of the way, but where they could see which way the fire was going. For a minute she just sat there, staring. Helpless.

  The barn was burning, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Sadie nudged Eve’s elbow up and shoved her face into the tiny space she’d made. Eve scratched the big head and, with her other hand, picked up her phone and dialed Tanner’s number with trembling fingers.

  It went straight to voice mail. Of course he didn’t have his phone on. He was in church.

  She let out a shuddering breath as she heard sirens in the distance. Please, God. She didn’t know what she was praying for, but she whispered it again. Please.

  Chapter Ten

  The Christmas tree was decorated, the church dim except for the soft glow of the lights. “Silent Night,” the final hymn, drifted in a peaceful, hopeful chorus. Tanner didn’t sing. He just allowed it to soak in. This service, with its familiar readings and expectant hymns, was one of his favorites of the year.

  It hadn’t always been that way. After his wife and baby died, Tanner had stopped going to church. He just couldn’t. It wasn’t so much that he’d stopped believing in God, but he’d been angry. Mad that God would allow something so awful to happen to his family, who’d done nothing to deserve it. That his brothers had to grow up without their parents who loved them so much. And that his parents would never get to have grandchildren.

  It had been a dark time.

  When Devin had been
injured and came home from the rodeo, relying on a higher power had been part of his recovery from addiction. Lacey had joined them a few months later, and the three of them had started going together. They’d tried the big church in Red Hill Springs where he’d gone before, but it hadn’t seemed to fit who they were anymore. Instead, they preferred the intimacy of the small country church near his home. Not so many curious eyes.

  The church was made up of a few families, most of whom had worshipped there for generations. Older people with wizened faces who, like him, had been through things in life. They didn’t ask questions. Instead, they acted as if his family had always been there. When Garrett and Abby joined them later, they were welcomed with the same easy grace.

  And slowly, Sunday mornings became a tradition again in his family. His niece and nephew were baptized in that little church. It held special memories now. New memories. Some of them were bittersweet because they happened without his parents and his family, but time had softened even that grief.

  The living went on living. Even when they tried not to.

  Tanner took in a deep breath—replete with the smell of pine and the rich beeswax they used to polish the pews. The readings were familiar, but the wonder—that God would send his son into the world—was still there. Tanner had lost a son, and honestly, he didn’t know how God could make the sacrifice.

  As the voices filled the church, he found himself wishing for Eve and Alice. Eve loved Christmas so much. She would love this. And Alice would love the large nativity scene that had been placed, piece by piece, on the altar by the children of the church.

  The pastor gave the blessing and invited them into the adjoining fellowship hall for cookies and punch. A few people milled around chitchatting as they made their way to the snacks or out of the church. Tanner wasn’t much for small talk, and he stood in the shadows at the back of the church, waiting for his more gregarious brothers to stop talking so he could get home.