Snowfall on Haven Point (19 page)

The first minute out of the car set the pattern for the rest of their short walk to the VIP seating. Everyone seemed to want to talk to him. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised at it—nor at his reaction. Instead of rebuffing their well-wishes, Marshall showed courtesy to all and even warmth to many.

For some reason—probably because of his enforced isolation the past week and his resistance to accepting her help—she had thought he was some kind of loner who preferred his own company. As he stopped his slow progress to shake hands with a couple of elderly men along the way, she was reminded that Marshall was not only a native son of Haven Point but also a county elected official. He couldn't have attained his position at such a relatively young age if he had been cold and unapproachable.

Apparently the man contained dimensions she was only now encountering.

As they made their slow way to the VIP spot, a few other mothers she'd met through Chloe's elementary school and Will's preschool greeted her and then seemed to do a double take when it became apparent that Marshall and her family had come together.

Only then did it occur to her that people might think they were
together
together. She really hoped everyone in town didn't get the idea she was dating the county sheriff.

Their journey of about a hundred feet took three times as long as it should have because so many people wanted to greet him, until Andie had to bite her lip to keep from telling people to just let the poor man sit down already. At this rate, he would be exhausted before they even reached their seats.

Finally they made it to the roped-off VIP area and Will and Chloe were immediately surrounded by the friends they had made in town, particularly Ty and Jazmyn Barrett and Maddie Hayward, all chattering a mile a minute.

“Mom,” Will said in excitement, “Ty says there are sparkly cookies over there at the refreshments and we can have as many as we want!”

“How about you start with one, kiddo,” she said.

Will looked disappointed. “Can I go get one now?”

She needed to get Marshall settled, but she figured with all the adults around, Will and Chloe would be well supervised. Devin Shaw and Cole Barrett stood by the refreshments and Eliza was not far away.

“Sure. Grab a cookie and then come find me.”

“Okay.”

“Can I go, too?” Chloe asked.

She nodded and her daughter handed over her blanket into Andrea's full arms.

“I can take some of that,” Marshall said.

Where? On top of his head?

“Let's go find you an empty chair,” she said, ignoring him. “Oh, look, there's your mom. She must have a spot for us.”

She nodded toward Charlene and Mike Bailey, who both were waving with enthusiasm.

“They're a little hard to miss,” he murmured.

“Can you make it there on the uneven grass? I'm sure it's not as easy as the sidewalk.”

“I'm fine.”

He would never say otherwise, she was quite certain. Still carrying the cooler, he made his way over the frozen ground. Before they could reach his family, the mayor of Haven Point waylaid them. “Marsh! And Andie. Hi, you two.”

McKenzie Kilpatrick gave her a quick hug, blankets and all, then gestured to the crutches.

“I heard what happened to you. This doesn't look like a fun way to spend Christmas.”

“Just about as fun as sticking pine needles in your eyes.”

“I'm so sorry. I couldn't believe it when Chief Emmett briefed me on what happened. No leads yet on who might have hit you?”

“Not yet.”

“That's crazy! I've told Cade to put all his officers on high alert. I'm just hoping someone isn't deliberately targeting law enforcement officers in the community.”

“So far it seems an isolated incident, but I've asked my deputies to be on alert, as well.”

McKenzie asked more questions about the incident, and while he answered her cordially, Marshall shifted several times and Andie could tell his leg was bothering him.

She loved McKenzie and didn't want to be rude, but she knew Marshall would never admit he needed to sit down.

“Sorry, do you mind if I carry these things over to our chairs?” she broke in during a gap in the conversation. “My arms are a little overloaded here.”

“Oh yes. Of course. Of course. I've got a hundred things to do anyway before the parade starts.”

She rushed off, but Marshall didn't seem in a hurry to continue toward the chairs. Instead, he gave her an odd look with an expression she couldn't quite identify.

“Don't think for a minute I missed what you did there.”

“What?” she asked innocently. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

He simply shook his head, still with that odd expression. He maneuvered toward the chairs and a moment later sank into a seat with a barely perceptible sigh of relief.

“Oh, I'm so glad you made it on time!” Charlene enthused. “Isn't it a beautiful evening? This is the best weather we've had for the festival in
forever
. Did you have a hard time finding a place to park?”

“No, actually. We were lucky.”

“Where are your cute kids?”

“The Barrett children are showing them the cookie selection.”

Andie scanned the area with studied casualness. “Are Louise and Herm still joining us?”

“Supposed to be. I just texted her and she said they got a late start. Apparently that rascal grandson of theirs didn't come home when he was supposed to, but they eventually found him at a friend's house. They're all on their way.”

The moment Andie had spoken the Jacobses' name, Marshall tensed beside her and the rest of his mother's words didn't do anything to ease it. Andie wanted to give his arm a reassuring squeeze but, for multiple reasons, was hesitant to draw his mother's attention.

“We'll be sure to save them seats, then,” Andie answered, then casually changed the subject. “So tell me about your honeymoon cruise.”

“Oh, we had the
best
time—isn't that right, honey?”

Mike nodded, giving his new wife a besotted sort of look. “I'll be working off all the food we ate until our first anniversary,” he said. “Two entrées and three desserts every night for a week. Good thing I'm not riding one of those boats in the parade or the thing would sink.”

She laughed, charmed by Marshall's uncle. Her impression of him was of a sweet, quiet man who simply adored Charlene.

“What ports did you stop at? Did you do much shopping? What were your favorite excursions?”

Charlene launched into a long travelogue, which carried the conversation until the children returned and the parade began to start.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

M
ARSHALL
COULDN
'
T
REMEMBER
when he had last sat on the sidelines to enjoy the Lights on the Lake parade.

It had probably been back in high school, when he had been dating a girl in Shelter Springs and they had watched it with some of her friends around a bonfire in somebody's backyard. In the years since, he'd either been away in the military or been helping out with crowd and traffic control—a sometimes cold job on a Lake Haven December evening.

He had forgotten how charming the parade could be, when boat owners in Haven Point and Shelter Springs would decorate their watercraft with fanciful holiday lights and motor from the marina here to the one five nautical miles away in Shelter Springs.

He could get used to enjoying it this way, with propane heaters all around and mugs of hot cocoa and the extra blankets Andie had brought. Not that he would likely have the chance. Next year, everything would be back to normal. He certainly wouldn't be here with Andrea Montgomery and her cute kids, though that thought caused a sharp little pang in his chest.

“The boats are so beautiful,” Chloe breathed, her eyes huge.

A big part of his own enjoyment had been watching her and her brother. They both seemed enchanted, just like every other child he could see.

“I wish we had a boat parade every night,” Will said from his mother's lap, where he was snuggled under a blanket.

“It's wonderful, isn't it?” Andie agreed. With her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the lights and her cheeks pink from the cold and a cute little blue knit cap with a tasseled pompom on top, she was every bit as enchanting as the parade.

“We never saw anything like this in Portland,” Chloe said softly. “I'm so glad we moved here, Mama.”

“I am, too, honey.” Andie's chin wobbled a little and her eyes looked suspiciously bright for a moment. He couldn't resist nudging her shoulder with his and she gave him a tremulous smile.

Marshall gazed down at her, aware of a weird shifting and settling in his chest. It took about five more boats passing by before he identified the feeling.

Tenderness. That's what it was.

He frowned. He was starting to have feelings for Andie and for her kids. When he wasn't looking, they had started to sneak their way into his life, into his heart.

How the hell had
that
happened?

And what was he supposed to do about it now?

He was still reeling from that and trying to figure out a way out of the mess when another huge complication in his life showed up in the form of Louise and Herm Jacobs and their grandson.

His heart pounded at the sight of his son, who looked sullen and angry with a stocking cap pulled almost over his eyes.

“Sorry we're so late,” Herm Jacobs said. He shook Mike's hand and Louise kissed Charlene's cheek. “Somebody didn't come home when he was supposed to and didn't answer his cell phone, either.”

“I was at a friend's house,” Christopher snapped. “What's the big deal? It's not like we were shooting heroin or something. We were watching a movie.”

If Marshall had the right to step in, he would have said it was rude and disrespectful for Christopher not to let his grandparents know where he was and to ignore his phone when they tried to reach him. That was the thing he should say as the boy's father—if he were in a position to step up, anyway.

His whole life suddenly felt like a tangled knot of Christmas lights wrapped around tinsel and tied up with fraying ribbon.

“You're here now—that's the important thing,” Marshall's mother said with a cheery smile. “The parade has only been under way for about ten minutes, so there's plenty more to see. Grab a chair. We've put warmers on all of them, so they should be a little more bearable.”

To make room, Andrea gestured for Chloe to come sit on her lap as well, tucking her in beside Will. As a result, Christopher ended up sitting next to Marshall.

“This is lame,” Christopher muttered. He slouched in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don't get why everyone makes such a deal about sitting out in the cold and watching a bunch of stupid boats.”

“It's more about the sense of community and being with friends and family.”

“I was
with
my friends, until the geezers showed up and dragged me away.”

It would be tough on any kid to lose his mother and be forced to move in with grandparents he apparently didn't know well. That didn't give him the right to be disrespectful.

“If you previously had plans with your grandparents,” he said mildly, “it was kind of
lame
to leave them hanging like that, worried about you and not knowing where you were.”

Christopher glowered at him. “I was going to call them,” he muttered.

Marshall hesitated. He didn't want to risk the fledgling relationship he was starting to establish with Christopher, but he couldn't stand by and let the kid mistreat the only two people who had his back right now.

“None of this is your grandparents' fault. I know they make a convenient target for your grief and anger, but that's not really fair, is it?”

Christopher glared at him. “Mind your own business, cop,” he snarled. “You don't know anything about it.”

The kid slumped even farther in the chair and pointedly looked out at the water, every inch of him radiating pissed-off teenager.

Marshall sighed, thinking he should have kept his mouth shut. “You're right. I don't know how you feel. I lost my dad earlier this year and miss him like crazy, but I was an adult. It's not the same thing at all.”

He thought of John Bailey and how his father would reach out to this hurting young man. He had no doubt whatsoever his father would try—of course he would. Just as he had stepped up to help Cade Emmett when Cade was about the same age as Christopher.

Marshall and Cade had been in the same grade, but he had hardly known the other boy. They certainly hadn't been friends. Marsh had been a little afraid of him, actually.

The Emmetts were a wild, lawless bunch. Cade didn't seem to have any respect for rules, for teachers, for other people's property.

John had seen something in him—probably his devoted care to his younger brothers—and had enlisted Marshall to help him show Cade a different way. His father had somehow persuaded Marsh to invite Cade to their house to hang out after school one day and then the next and the next. Before he knew it, he and Cade had been inseparable and had formed a bond that endured to this day.

John would have tried to help this boy, too, whether Christopher was his acknowledged grandson or not. Marshall had to do the same. A paternity test might make things more clear-cut, but even without it, he still had to do what he could.

“You know, your grandparents are good people who love you.”

Christopher's jaw jutted out. “Then maybe they should stop trying to tell me what to do every freaking minute of my life.”

Marshall met his gaze. “You just might want to consider that maybe their plan for their retirement never included raising a grandson who goes out of his way to make them suffer, just because
he's
hurting and doesn't want to be here.”

Christopher didn't appear to have a response to that. He only stared straight ahead.

Aware he may have just screwed up any chance of building something with his son, Marshall turned back to the parade. A moment later, he felt a hand squeeze his arm through his coat. He glanced down and found Andie looking at him, her features soft with sympathy and, he was quite certain, glowing approval.

He felt that weird tug of tenderness again and fought the urge to reach for her hand. Knowing the foolishness of that, he turned back to Christopher and decided to work at unraveling one tangled complication in his life at a time.

“That wooden boat right there with the big Christmas tree on it is an early model Kilpatrick. That's a beautiful boat, with a ride so smooth a guy in the passenger seat could shave with a straight razor and not end up with a single nick.”

Christopher didn't answer for a long moment, until Marshall thought maybe he was going to ignore him. Finally he spoke. “Why would any idiot be stupid enough to shave while he's on a boat?”

Marshall let out his breath and managed a smile. “That's what you call hyperbole. I just meant it's easy sailing, no matter the conditions out on the water. The Killies are legendary in these parts. They were built right here on the lake by Ben Kilpatrick's family, up until about five or six years ago when Ben closed up shop. That particular boat probably goes for six figures, easy.”

“No way.”

“True story. They're highly prized by collectors. One went up for auction back East a few months ago and sold for nearly half a million dollars.”

“For a boat?” Christopher did a double take. “I could see paying that for a yacht or something, but that's just a glorified dinghy. For that kind of money, you could buy a freaking Lamborghini and have change left over!”

When the weather warmed up, he ought to see if Ben would take them out on his beautiful restored Delphine. It was a nice thought—until he remembered he didn't have the right to take Christopher anywhere.

“I've been lucky enough to drive both, and I can tell you with complete honesty, a Killy is more fun—but just by a hair.”

“Right. You want me to believe a cop in the middle of frigging nowhere Idaho drives a Lamborghini?”

He shrugged. “I never said I drive one on a regular basis. But when I was a rookie deputy just out of the Marines and back from Iraq, I worked undercover on a drug case. As part of my cover, I drove a Lamborghini Gallardo that had been confiscated from another case.”

“No shit?” As soon as he swore, Christopher sent a guilty look in the direction of his grandmother, who didn't seem to be paying them any attention.

“True story. It was only a weeklong operation, but it was absolutely unforgettable. When you drive a Lambo, you can feel the engine rumbling in your bones. When you accelerate, you're sucked into the back of your seat and you feel like you own the world.”

If he wasn't mistaken, Christopher seemed to look at him with awe and respect, all annoyance forgotten. Apparently fast cars were the way to his son's heart.

“What color was it?” he asked.

“Ice blue.”

“Sweet.”

He had pictures somewhere of him behind the wheel. He'd have to dig them out for the kid so he could prove it.

“Look, Mama,” Will suddenly exclaimed, breaking into the conversation. “There he is! Look! Santa's riding on a boat!”

“I see it. Isn't it wonderful?”

In that moment, the whole evening felt wonderful, even with the throbbing of his leg. Marshall wouldn't have traded it for anything.

“I never went to a parade at night before. That was
fun
,” Chloe declared when all they could see was the long line of lights heading toward Shelter Springs with the Santa Claus boat in the rear.

“The best parade I ever went to,” Will agreed.

“I agree.” Andrea smiled at her children.

As everyone stood up and started gathering up their belongings, a couple of boys around Christopher's age approached their group. Marshall recognized one as being the son of a friend of his who owned one of several art galleries in Haven Point. He didn't know the other one.

Christopher headed over to talk to them, with much gesturing and pointing. Marshall couldn't hear the conversation, but he did hear when Christopher approached his grandparents.

“Can I go with Cody and Jonas? They want to walk around and look at stuff.”

Herm and Louise looked at each other, then back at their grandson. “I'm inclined to say no,” Herm said sternly. “You haven't demonstrated much reason why we should trust you today.”

Christopher's jaw jutted out and it took Marshall a moment to realize why the expression looked familiar—because he did the same thing.

“I was a jerk, okay? I'm sorry.” The boy glanced at Marshall and he had to hope something he said might have made an impact. “It's just... Cody is pretty good at art. His mom and dad have a booth selling pottery and paintings and stuff and he wanted us to see a couple bowls he made.”

The Jacobs conferred for a moment, then turned back to their grandson. “Meet us back here in forty-five minutes,” Herm said. He reached into the pocket of his coat and handed over a black cell phone. “Take your phone so we can reach you and answer us when we call this time. If you don't—or if we have to come find you—the phone and the Wi-Fi password at home will both be gone until after Christmas.”

The boy's smile made him look even younger than his thirteen years.

“Thanks, Grandpa,” he said, then jerked his head in a nod that encompassed the rest of them. “See you.”

He and the two other boys hurried away as if afraid his grandparents would change their minds.

After he left, Marshall released his breath, aware of a soft, fragile optimism that hadn't been there earlier in the day.

“You and Christopher seemed to have a lot to talk about,” Andie said in a low voice.

He looked around, noting the boy's grandparents were busy talking to Eliza and Aidan Caine. “I guess you could say we bonded a little, talking about fast cars.”

“He was more animated, speaking with you, than I've ever seen him. Maybe he feels a connection.”

He wasn't sure about that, but it was nice to think about. “Maybe,” he said in a noncommittal voice.

She was quiet for a long moment, then gave him a searching look. “Have you thought more about telling his grandparents the truth?”

Instantly, the warm feelings from before seemed to take a running leap into the lake. “No. The timing isn't right. They have enough to deal with at the moment.”