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Authors: Denise Hunter

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Falling Like Snowflakes (16 page)

BOOK: Falling Like Snowflakes
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“So, about what we were talking about in the kitchen . . .,” he said, going for vague since her son was with them. “Are you okay with my suggestion?”

It had begun to snow during the game, and he turned on the wipers to clear the windshield.

“I guess if it would make you feel better . . . and if you're sure we shouldn't just leave.”

“Like I said, we need you here. Don't go and bail on me during our busy season.” He smiled across her son's head.

She bit her lip, drawing his attention to the fullness of her lower lip. The memory of their kiss made his heart lurch.

Guilt pricked hard, and he jerked his eyes back to the road.

“Okay, then,” she said. “I guess so, if you're sure. When?”

“Might as well do it tonight.”

As they entered Paige's neighborhood, Kate explained to Jack what was happening. He took the news calmly, and once they were inside he helped gather his things. Kate went behind, pulling the bedding and tidying up after them.

By the time they had the truck loaded with their meager belongings, Paige still wasn't home, and Beau was only glad that he didn't have to face her one more time today.

Chapter 16

S
ettling in at the farmhouse was done in the blink of an eye. All of their belongings fit inside a duffel bag. Riley and Beau carried in a twin bed from Riley's room, and an air mattress appeared on the rug beside the bed. She was directly across the hall from Beau and next door to Riley.

They'd settled into the household quickly, but nighttime was a challenge for Eden. The farmhouse came with a multitude of foreign noises. She hadn't noticed them during the day, but at night, when darkness ushered in memories best forgotten, her restless mind summoned all manner of potential danger.

On Friday night she and Micah stayed up late watching a Superman marathon. They were getting up early the next morning for the Christmas parade, but he'd been so excited to watch his favorite cartoon, she'd given in.

Micah had already fallen asleep when a clicking noise sounded. She reminded herself it was just the furnace, but she gave up on falling asleep and crept from the bed. She tiptoed down the hall, convincing herself as she padded down the stairs that the scratching noise she heard really was a branch brushing the
house. She was being paranoid. She was safer here than she'd ever been at Paige's.

But just one mental image of Walter's brutal murder was a stark reminder of the danger they were running from. The likes of which, she was sure, Beau had never encountered as a deputy.

All was quiet as she passed Miss Trudy's room. The woman had gotten her cast off today and had a less restrictive brace put on. It had to be more comfortable.

Eden wakened the computer as she sat at the built-in desk. She did a quick check on the trial, but she couldn't find much, so she moved on to the next thing. She needed a fake ID and documents for both of them. The money she'd saved would be gone tomorrow when she paid for her car. But she needed to know how much the documents were going to cost.

She did a Google search and followed the links. She'd need a driver's license and birth certificates for both of them. A social security card. She typed the question into the search engine.

She found the answer and sighed. She might have to wait until they were tucked away at Loon Lake. There was no rush, really. She'd been thinking about what Karen had said about selling the place. If things worked out, maybe she could buy it.

A sound startled her, and she jumped.

Beau crossed the kitchen with his familiar masculine grace, stopping short when he saw her at the desk.

Eden exited the website and pushed back, her heart beating like a drum. She didn't think he could have read the screen from there.

“Can't sleep?” Her voice was barely more than a squeak.

He strolled to the sink and pulled a glass from the cupboard. “Thirsty.”

It was only as he stood in front of the kitchen window, the moonlight spilling over his shoulders, that she realized he wore only dark pajama bottoms.

The blue light from the computer screen glowed on the rugged planes of his back. Shadows played in the dips and curves of his shoulders as he filled the glass with tap water.

Remembering the mistletoe, a foolish part of her wanted to join him by the sink. But a quick peek above him showed the sprig was gone. She wondered if he'd swiped it. That put a damper on her little fantasy.

He turned with his glass full of water, his eyes dipping to the computer. “Looking for new recipes?”

She shrugged, not wanting to lie. “Couldn't sleep. I hate tossing and turning.”

He gave her a rueful look. “It's not the best mattress.”

“It's fine. And Jack is sawing logs on the air mattress.”

Beau smiled, leaning back against the counter. “Kids can sleep anywhere.”

“Isn't that the truth.” Micah had been doing just fine on the cold floor of the shed, in a small pile of hay, until Beau had stumbled upon them. Of course, they'd had two days on the road leading up to that.

“We used to camp on the beach sometimes.” Beau's voice rumbled low in the quiet of the kitchen. “Dad would take us down to Lighthouse Pointe, and we'd hang out there for the weekend. Looking back, I think the trips were his way of giving Mom a break. We had fun, though. We'd build outrageous sand castles and go kayaking in the bay and tide pooling.”

“What's that?”

“The low tide leaves pools of water in the crevices of the rocks
along the shore. All kinds of marine life get trapped in the pools: mussels, sea stars, anemones . . . sometimes even crabs or lobsters. Our own personal aquariums. We'd go clamming too and have clambakes on the beach for supper.”

“Sounds like I'm here the wrong time of year.”

“Summer's pretty awesome. But winter has its merits too. You'll see tomorrow. Christmas by the Sea is great. Everyone in town turns out for the parade and to see Santa come in on the barge.”

“Santa arrives on a barge?”

“We Mainers do things our own way. Wait till you see the lighting of the tree. It's made of lobster traps and decorated with buoys.”

Eden leaned back against the chair back. “Jack will love it. I haven't been to a parade in years.”

“We get hot chocolate from Wicked Good Brew and stake out a spot on Chapel Street near the end of the parade route. It's sheltered from the wind there. Last year it was snowing and in the single digits. Hopefully it won't be so brutal this year.”

“We'll dress warm.”

“Jack can take a turn on Santa's lap. Is he still a believer?”

Eden lifted a shoulder. “He was last year.” But this year he'd lost his dad and his voice. She wasn't sure if he believed in anything anymore.

“Well, he'll have to put in a request or two. Although I guess that'll be tricky for him.”

“I'll have to help a little. How long do the festivities last?”

“Just the weekend. There's ice-skating on the square and a gingerbread house contest. My aunt Lillian won last year with a lighthouse.”

“I didn't know you had another aunt.”

“My mom's sister—she's a librarian. We're not as close to her. Our uncle's not very pleasant to be around, and she's kind of under his thumb.”

Eden felt an immediate bond with Aunt Lillian.

“We're close to their daughter, Abby, though. She used to go along on some of those campouts.”

“I haven't met her yet.”

“She lives in Indiana now. Married my best friend from college.”

“Where'd you go?”

“Boston College. Bachelor's in criminal justice, though it wasn't technically necessary for a deputy position. Dad didn't go to college, so he really pushed us to get a degree.”

“Makes sense.”

“Did you go to college?”

“I wish. Married straight out of high school. I wasn't even pregnant—just stupid.” She bit the inside of her lip, instantly sorry for offering personal information, but he didn't press her.

“Love'll do that to you, I guess.”

She was pretty sure what she'd felt for Antonio hadn't been love at all, though she'd thought it was at the time. In reality she'd seen him as her knight in shining armor. The armor had lost its luster pretty quickly.

Beau was regarding her with a curiosity that sent up a warning flare in her gut. As much as she was enjoying this quiet moment with him, she needed to escape before his curiosity turned into more questions.

“I think I'm ready to turn in now.” She pushed to her feet.

“Good night,” Beau said.

She padded past him and up the stairs, then slid between the cool sheets. But it was a long time before sleep came to claim her.

Chapter 17

B
eau stuffed his hands into his pockets, peering through the crowd at the first vehicle in the parade. Sheriff Colton waved to the people lining Chapel Street as he passed by. He spotted the Callahans in the crowd and gave a nod. In her wheelchair up by the curb, Aunt Trudy raised her chin and looked away.

Behind the patrol car the Bristol High School marching band belted out a happy Christmas carol as they marched in formation down the street. The drum cadence made his insides vibrate. He looked over at Jack to see his response to the hoopla.

The boy was perched on Kate's hip, trying to peer around the people in front of him. Beau touched Jack's shoulder and raised his voice above the blaring horns.

“Want to sit on my shoulders?”

The boy nodded, reaching out.

Beau hoisted him up and wrapped his arms around his lower legs while Jack's hands settled on top of his head.

“Thanks,” Kate said.

“Hard to believe I used to hold Riley like this.”

Kate laughed, probably picturing his tank of a brother up
there now. With her eyes lit, her cheeks flushed with happiness, she looked like a different woman, and he found himself wanting to see this relaxed Kate more often.

“Where's Paige?” she asked.

“She's on the Perfect Paws float—it'll be coming up here in a bit.”

“That's right. She's been working on it this week.”

“It'll be packed with animals needing homes, wait and see.”

The last of the marching band passed, ushering in Miss Maggie's School of Dance. Little girls in parkas and boots sashayed past with varying levels of skill, all of them pretty darn cute.

Kate touched his shoulder, gesturing toward the coffee shop. “I think I'm going to grab a coffee real quick.”

“Running on empty?”

“The hot chocolate was good but lacking caffeine, and the line's down now.” She held her hands out to her son. “Come on, Jack. We'll be quick.”

Jack's legs squeezed tighter around Beau, and his hands pressed flat against Beau's forehead.

“We'll be fine,” Beau said. “We'll save your spot.”

Kate looked at her son, her eyes assessing, then back at Beau. He felt a squeeze in his chest at the easy smile that lifted her lips.

“All right. Be right back.”

Beau watched her weave through the crowded sidewalk, feeling almost heady at her trust in him. She hardly let the boy out of her sight. He told himself that the coffee shop was only two stores down, but it didn't stop the ribbon of warmth that unfurled in his chest.

Jeez. Butch up, Callahan.

Beau gave a little hop, adjusting Jack on his shoulders, and the
boy's hands tightened in his hair, pulling at the roots. He should take them to junk food alley tonight after the Christmas tree lighting. They had to try the Needhams and cranberry almond bark.

Two horses clopped by, pulling Mr. Bennington in a wagon filled with a bunch of kids. Beau wished he'd thought to ask if Jack could join them in the wagon.

“Look, there's Salt and Pepper,” Beau said.

A roar of motors announced the arrival of the ATV club, overtaking the happy strains of “Jingle Bells.” Riley rode in the middle of the bunch. He offered a two-finger salute in their direction, an action he'd picked up from their father.

Beau's gut tightened. Times like this he missed his dad so much he ached with it. The winter festivities felt different without him. So did the tree farm. He'd had a dry sense of humor and a stoic way about him. Beau missed his quiet presence in his life. Hardly an hour went by at work that he didn't think of him.

Tell him we miss him, God.

The ATVs passed, and the local middle school band came next, belting out “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” A tractor followed, pulling a flatbed trailer filled with dancing snowmen and a lobster wearing a Santa Claus hat. The lobster spun in a circle, claws flailing, until the tractor braked. The lobster fell flat on his tail.

The crowd chuckled as the lobster made a comedy act out of the incident, and Beau could swear he felt the echo of Jack's laughter against the back of his head.

Beau turned, watching for Kate's return, wanting her to experience her son's joy. He was turning back to the parade when a loud pop reverberated down the street. The sound registered an instant before Jack began scrambling from his shoulders.

Beau grabbed the boy as he clawed frantically down his body. “Jack! Whoa, buddy.”

The boy fought for freedom, but Beau hung on tight. He had a feeling the boy would bolt if his feet hit the ground.

Beau eased back out of the crowd, fighting to maintain control of Jack. It must have been a backfire. The kid's body trembled, his hands pushing, his feet clambering.

“Jack, it's okay. It was just a car.”

The boy's body trembled, and panic filled his face as he fought, bumping the people around them.

When Beau stopped in front of the brick storefront, he tightened his grip. “Jack! Did you hear me? It was just a car. You're safe.”

BOOK: Falling Like Snowflakes
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