Holiday in a Stetson: The Sheriff Who Found Christmas\A Rancho Diablo Christmas (3 page)

She looked just like Ellen.

Garrett felt his gut twist painfully each time he looked at the little girl.

He had placed his niece in the seat directly behind his own, since he felt that was the safest one in his vehicle. Glancing once more in the rearview mirror to make sure she was still all right, he was struck again by just how much Ellie resembled his sister at that age. It was almost as if one of Ellen’s childhood photographs had come to life.

But whether or not Ellie looked like her mom didn’t negate how awkward he felt around the child. And it still didn’t change the fact that he had absolutely no idea how to talk to a little girl. He barely had any conversations with adults, certainly not lengthy ones. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d talked to a child.

No matter how he approached it, it would have been an impossible situation at its best. And this was definitely not at its best.

Ellen’s daughter had been silent for the entire trip so far. It was almost as if she was afraid of something.
Was that normal? He had no idea. Maybe he
should
have taken Chisholm with him. If nothing else, she would have filled the air with chatter, made his sister’s little girl feel more comfortable.

“You all right back there?” he finally forced himself to ask, looking at Ellie in the mirror.

Small brown eyes darted to meet his. “Yes, sir.”

Echoes of his past came barreling at Garrett out of the shadows. His stepfather had demanded that each sentence spoken to him contain the word
sir
as a sign of respect. Hearing his niece address
him
that way brought back bad memories.

“I told you you don’t have to call me sir,” he reminded her sternly.

“No, sir—I mean…” Ellie’s voice trailed off. Taking a deep breath, she nervously tried again. “What…what do you want me to… What do I call you, s—?”

Garrett heard the slight hissing sound that gave her away; Ellie was about to address him as “sir” again. He had no doubts that she’d had that drummed into her head by her father, just as his stepfather had tried to drum it into his—often physically. Garrett had met Ellen’s husband only once, while his sister was going out with him. Even then, the marine had struck him as a carbon copy of his stepfather, from his military bearing to his stark haircut, right down to the way Duffy ordered Ellen around.

Garrett’s dad had ordered his wife and kids around the exact same way. Except that Garrett hadn’t stood for it. When he was still small, the man had tried to beat him into submission. But the day finally arrived when Garrett was taller than his tormentor. After that
last go-round, when they’d come to blows that didn’t automatically result in a victory for the dominating marine, he’d finally left home. Garrett had taken off in the middle of the night, knowing that the next confrontation would result in one of their deaths.

“Call me by my name,” he told the wide-eyed little girl now. “My name is Garrett.”

“I know,” she told him solemnly. “Mama used to talk about you.”

He shouldn’t have let all those years go by, Garrett thought now, his conscience pricking him sharply. He should have tried to get in touch with Ellen, to let her know that she had a way out if she wanted one. That she was more than welcome to come stay at the house with him.

Too late now.

Ellie had lapsed into silence again. “What did your mother say?” he asked her.

“That you were a nice man,” she answered, as if she was reciting something she had memorized, and practiced saying over and over again. “And that you used to look out for her when she was little like me.”

Another wave of memories came rushing back to him, playing across his mind. At the same time, emotions began to tug at him—emotions he wanted no part of. He didn’t know how to react to them or to the little girl sitting behind him.

But he had to say something, so he fell back on basic facts. You couldn’t go wrong with facts, right? “We’ll be home soon,” he told her.

But even saying that felt awkward on his tongue. By home he meant
his
home, his private domain. His
sanctuary. Sharing his office with a talkative deputy was bad enough. Now he was being forced to share his home with a stranger, as well. She was his flesh and blood, true, but she was still a stranger. Forty-eight hours ago he hadn’t even known she existed. There seemed to be no place left for him to retreat to, no space, however small, to call his own.

But what choice did he have? In either case? He was stuck with Chisholm, unless she suddenly decided to quit. And as for Ellie, well, not even that would work. The little girl had nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. She was his responsibility for the next twelve years.

Garrett began to experience a dull ache in his head.

“Is that it, sir?” Ellie was asking. “I mean Uncle Garrett,” she quickly corrected. “Is it that house up there?”

The house she indicated
was
his, located at the top of a winding road. Darkness had fallen, but instead of being dark as well, the house was mysteriously lit up.

He didn’t remember leaving the light on when he’d left. He’d set out early in the morning two days ago. Some people, if they knew they’d be coming back home late in the evening, would leave on one or two lights to help them see when they unlocked the front door. But he didn’t need that kind of help. He was perfectly capable of finding the lock in the dark.

Garrett was positive he hadn’t deliberately left on a light.

Moreover, if he had done so it would have been just that.
One
light, not every light in the house.

What the hell was going on? he wondered. Neither
burglars nor squatters announced their presence by setting a house ablaze with lights.

Had some kind of weird electrical malfunction happened while he was away?

Pulling into the driveway, Garrett turned the engine off and, after a beat, got out and stared at his house—specifically, at the banner stretched out between two of the windows in front. The bright pink banner proclaimed Welcome Home, Ellie! in giant black letters.

He heard what sounded like a scurrying noise behind him. Garrett turned around just in time to be on the receiving end of a flying hug. Ellie was throwing her little arms around his waist, stretching them as far as she could and hugging him for all she was worth.

“Thank you, Uncle Garrett,” the little girl cried happily.

Looking down into the small face, he saw Ellie smile for the first time.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he mumbled as he awkwardly patted her back.

Really nothing,
he thought, since he hadn’t done this. He was about to tell her that when he heard the front door opening. He looked up, to find his suspicions confirmed.

Lani came out to greet them, an amazingly wide smile on her lips. Because it was cold, she’d thrown her jacket on over her shoulders, but hadn’t bothered slipping her arms into the sleeves.

“Hi, Sheriff,” she called out as she hurried toward them. Not waiting for him to respond, she turned her
attention to the person who was, at the moment, her main concern. The sheriff’s niece.

To equalize their heights, Lani dropped down on one knee. “And this little beauty must be Ellie. Hi, I’m your uncle’s deputy. But you can call me Lani,” she told her. Rather than shake the small hand that was being offered, she drew the child to her for a quick, heartfelt hug.

“Are you hungry?” Lani asked her. “I’ve got a nice warm beef stew waiting for you in the kitchen. C’mon,” she urged, with the ease of a seasoned resident rather than someone who had just in the last few hours learned her way around the old house. “I’ll take you inside.”

Ellie hesitated, looking over her shoulder. “My suitcase…” she began, referring to the only thing she had brought with her when she and her mother had begun the fateful journey to Booth.

“Your uncle can bring it,” Lani assured her with a dismissive smile, then looked in Garrett’s direction. “Can’t you, Sheriff?”

He didn’t take well to being ordered around, but it was, after all, just one small suitcase for one small girl. He’d let it ride this time, he thought. “Sure.”

Garrett turned on his worn boot heel and went to fetch his niece’s small, battered suitcase.

When he walked into the house with it moments later, he moved quickly, with the intent of cornering the woman. He had some questions for this burglar with a badge. “How did you get in?” he asked as soon as he caught up to Lani.

The look she gave him was laced with amusement.
As annoying as he found her attitude, he also found it oddly sexy. “I picked up a few skills in my last job,” she told him. “And I’ve always been rather handy with a nail file.”

“Like for breaking and entering?” he asked sarcastically.

“Like for being able to gain access to a residence if the key was missing.” That was the way she preferred to phrase it.

And, taking Ellie’s small hand in hers, she led the girl into the kitchen, where the warm, welcoming aroma of beef stew greeted them.

Garrett felt his own stomach rumbling in response, but made no comment about being hungry. Chisholm had completely taken over, he realized. He had to call her on that before she really got carried away. The woman was invading his space, damn it.

But hunger got in the way of his indignance. For the time being, he chose to put the issue on hold.

“You make that?” he asked, nodding at the stew.

“I’d like to take credit,” she admitted amiably, “but my dad’s the cook in our family. Although I can do a fairly good job in a pinch. He sent this over because he knew you’d be hungry after your long trip,” she told Ellie, then looked up at Garrett. “You, too, Sheriff,” she added. “C’mon,” she said to the girl, “I’ll show you where you can wash up. Later, when you’re finished, I’ll show you your new room.”

“Her room?” Garrett repeated, confused. What room? He didn’t have an extra room. Was she putting the girl into his bedroom? He supposed he could
live with that, he thought, turning the matter over in his head. But that was his decision to make, not hers.

Lani looked at him over her shoulder. “Yes, I thought you could put her up in your den until you get the time to make it over into a second bedroom. By the way, in case you need help, I’m also very handy with tools.”

“Of course you are,” he murmured under his breath. She seemed to be a jack of all trades—or whatever the female equivalent was called.

Lani looked at the little girl, still holding on to her hand. “You’ll like it once it’s all fixed up. Right now, it has the smell of old leather about it. But the sofa’s really comfortable,” she declared, as if she had firsthand knowledge of that.

“I don’t mind the smell of old leather,” Ellie told her solemnly.

Lani nodded. “Knew you were a trooper the second I saw you.” As the little girl smiled up at her, she continued, “I made the sofa up with sheets and a blanket, just like a real bed.”

For the moment, Garrett could only listen and stare, too shell-shocked to form a coherent question and shoot it out at her. But he now knew how the Romans had felt when the Barbarians appeared at the city gates—just before they ransacked them.

“I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but would you mind staying a little longer?” Garrett asked later that evening, after they had eaten what had turned out to be an incredible meal.

Despite that, despite the almost mellow feeling a full stomach generated, it felt to him as if he had to drag every word out of his mouth. He hated asking for a favor, especially from someone he normally considered to be his personal cross to bear.

Ever since the town council had decided to hire the former San Diego homicide detective and make her his deputy, he’d felt put upon and crowded by her cheerfulness, by what seemed to him to be her overly eager approach to work. Hell, he’d felt put upon and crowded by her very presence.

But what he now faced was a different set of circumstances, and although Chisholm had, without his permission, invaded his home, shattering his very last bastion of privacy, he had to admit that the blonde steamroller ran interference between him and his niece rather effortlessly and exceedingly well. It was apparent that the little girl was completely taken with
her, and right now, he could really use his deputy and her effervescence.

Lani gazed at him for a long moment, an enigmatic smile on her lips. Then, rather than answer Garrett’s request, she walked over to the window and looked out at the very inky terrain that lay beyond the front yard of the house.

Now what? he wondered. Subconsciously, he braced himself. “What are you looking for out there?” he asked guardedly.

Lani continued gazing through the window. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anything out there to see.

“Just waiting to see what direction the Four Horsemen are coming from,” she told him.

Why was it that this woman never made any sense when she talked? Was it so much to ask for—that she make sense? At least part of the time?

“Four horsemen?” he asked impatiently, when she didn’t elaborate.

Lani turned away from the window. “Of the Apocalypse,” she clarified. “I figure if you’re actually asking me to hang around your house—and you—after hours, the end of the world must be coming.”

He supposed he had reached that point. And he wasn’t exactly happy about it. Granted, she was very attractive—for a pain in the butt—but her pushy personality completely blotted out any sort of physical reaction a normal man might have to her.

“Probably,” he agreed. “So, will you stay a little longer?” he pressed, then felt it only fitting to explain why he was asking something so out of character for him. “Ellie seems to like having you around.”

There was more to it than that and they both knew it. “And you like having me here to deal with her, instead of you having to do so.”

Garrett looked at Lani darkly. He didn’t want her in his head. He had a hard enough time with her in his office and in his house.

“I didn’t say that,” he told her.

“You didn’t have to, Garrett,” she answered with that wide, annoying grin that irritated him to the nth degree. And then she partially redeemed herself by saying, “Yes, I’ll stay. For Ellie’s sake.”

Well, it sure as hell wasn’t for his sake. He’d been doing just fine without any company whatsoever, much less the company of a woman who never stopped talking. She probably talked in her sleep.

“That’s all I’m asking,” he retorted.

It didn’t escape him, even though he made no mention of it, that she had just called him by his first name rather than by his title.

He supposed that was because they were no longer in the office, but it still felt far too personal. However, mentioning it to her might seem as if he was nitpicking. Moreover, if he said something about it, she might leave, and though he really wasn’t thrilled about the fact, he did need her to stay. He wasn’t any good at dealing with someone who was a few years away from reaching puberty.

So he resigned himself to putting up with the lack of barriers around him—for now.

To be honest—and to give the devil her due—he had to marvel at how easily his deputy got along with the solemn little girl. He had the feeling that his
niece seemed relieved to have a woman around to talk to. Though she was absolutely
nothing
like Ellen, Chisholm probably reminded Ellie of her mother, at least to some degree.

His conscience clear, Garrett eased out of the room and left the two females to whatever it was that they were doing together.

A few hours later, after an exhausted Ellie had fallen asleep, he told Chisholm she was free to go home. She left shortly thereafter.

It took him a while to empty his mind of all deputy-related thoughts, so that he could finally drop off to sleep.

T
HE NOISE CHEWED
into his dreamless sleep like a rodent nibbling away at a cardboard box. Garrett’s eyes flew open.

Alert, he lay there in the dark and waited to hear if the sound was real, or just part of some peripheral brain activity.

He heard the sound again.

Whimpering.

For a second, still somewhat disoriented, Garrett couldn’t hone in on where the whimpering came from.

Was it from an animal?

Was some poor creature being dragged off by a hungry coyote?

Getting up, he crossed to the window in wide strides and scanned the area as far as he could see. But from what he could discern, nothing outside was moving. Even the wind, which at times could make a
really mournful sound, was still tonight. None of the leaves on the trees were rustling.

About to go back to bed, he heard it again.

Cocking his head, Garrett listened more intently. Wait, that wasn’t whimpering. It sounded more like someone was crying.

Who?

And then he remembered. He wasn’t alone in the house, as he had been for so many years. Ellie was here. Lani had made up the sofa for her in the den, which was two doors down the hall from his bedroom.

Was that his niece crying?

Why?

Wearing a T-shirt and the worn jeans that served as his pajama bottoms, Garrett quickly padded barefoot into the hallway. Once there, he stood still and listened again for the sound that had roused him.

In the back of his mind, he debated what to do if he did hear his niece crying. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t her. She’d been here for three days, but he was no closer to having a clue how to talk to her than he had been that first night.

And then he heard the noise again, even more clearly. The sobs were so heart-wrenching he knew he couldn’t just ignore them—and her distress—and go back to bed. No one should sound so terribly unhappy, Garrett thought. If he heard such a mournful sound coming from an animal, he would take the creature into his house, to at least feed it and try to alleviate some of its distress. He couldn’t do any less for his own flesh and blood.

Moving slowly toward the crowded den, which his
deputy, by working a little magic, had managed to transform into a semibedroom, he kept hoping that the crying sound would stop.

But it didn’t.

Bracing himself, Garrett slowly eased the door to the den open. There was some illumination in the room, thanks to the night-light that Lani had brought with her and plugged in. A night-light… How had she even
thought
of that? She seemed to be always a couple steps ahead of anything his niece might need or want. That alone proved to him that his annoying deputy was much better at this than he was.

The woman really did have her uses, he admitted grudgingly.

The last time he had even
thought
of a night-light, he had needed one himself. Not that his stepfather would have allowed him to have any sort of light to keep the “monsters” at bay. The man had snarled at him, ordering him to “grow up and be a man, you worthless waste of flesh.”

Garrett had been six when he’d asked for a night-light.

The same age his niece was now.

“Ellie?” he called softly as he slowly approached the sofa. He was aware how his deep voice rumbled, sounding like distant thunder in the bedroom.

The crying grew louder. At the same time the little girl seemed to grow smaller, as if trying to disappear into the sofa.

Her eyes were shut tight.

She was asleep, he realized. Asleep and in the throes of a really bad nightmare.

“Ellie, wake up,” Garrett urged her gently. “It’s all right, you’re just having a nightmare.”

But his niece didn’t waken, and her crying intensified. She seemed absolutely terrified of what she was dreaming about.

Trying to rouse her, Garrett put his hand on her shoulder—the way Chisholm had the other day, he realized abruptly.

Startled, Ellie jumped and jackknifed into a sitting position on the sofa. At the same time, she shrank away from his hand, as if she expected to be hit at any second.

That bastard had done that to her, Garrett thought angrily. Her father had taken his frustrations out on his daughter. Had he beaten her? Badly? There was no other reason for the little girl to act so terrified at feeling a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, Ellie,” Garrett assured her. “You’re safe. You’re here with me and you’re safe,” he repeated, doing his best to calm her.

Dazed, his niece opened her eyes and stared at him, as if trying to make sense of the words he had just said. Her tears continued to flow, much to Garrett’s frustration.

She was shaking, he realized belatedly. And despite the barriers he normally kept around him, despite all the effort he put into keeping those same walls up, and even despite the sheer awkwardness he felt trying to comfort the little girl, Garrett forced himself to sit down on the sofa beside her.

Telling her it was going to be all right didn’t seem to convince her. Or get her to stop sobbing. If Chisholm
were here, she would have said that the girl needed to talk things out.

Damn it, now Garrett was channeling his deputy. Still, the notion that had popped into his head did make sense.

He gave it his best shot. “That must have been some nightmare,” he observed.

Hiccupping and still unable to talk, Ellie nodded her head.

He couldn’t take it. She was just too unhappy. Before he knew what he was doing, Garrett gathered his niece into his arms and held her against him, rocking gently.

“It’s going to be all right,” he promised. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She clung to him wordlessly, her tears still falling, making the front of his T-shirt damp.

“Mama’s gone,” she sobbed at last.

He could feel the words twisting like a knife in his own gut, not to mention bringing a lump to his throat.

“I know, honey,” he told her. “I know.”

Garrett held the little girl for as long as she needed him to.