Snowfall on Haven Point (24 page)

“Hey, since I had to ditch my car at the road department lot to catch a ride with the plow, I'm in need of wheels for a couple days,” Wyn said. “Can I borrow your truck, since you're not using it?”

Wyn could outdrive most of his deputies, as she'd proved at the last high-speed chase training, when she was still Cade's number one officer. She was an excellent driver and he could see no reason to refuse.

“The keys are hanging by the front door.” He paused for just a beat and had to add, “Just don't scratch it.”

She finished the rest of the refrain along with him. “Or bring it home with an empty gas tank,” they both said in unison, and Wyn laughed.

It was one of John Bailey's familiar refrains, one he repeated to all of his children each time they took out one of his vehicles.

He felt a deep pang for his father, missing the guidance he had always provided. Maybe if John were here, Marshall wouldn't be making such a mess of things with his
own
son.

“Andie, why don't you come help me, to make sure I get the right keys?”

She looked surprised but rose to follow Wyn out of the kitchen.

Were they talking about him? Or did that particular assumption only make him narcissistic?

He wasn't sure. He only knew he suddenly didn't know if he liked the idea that his sister was close friends with his... Andie.

Not his anything, he reminded himself. She wasn't his fake girlfriend or his real one. Just a neighbor who needed help. He might not be able to find himself out on the front lines of the storm, but he could offer safe shelter for a woman and her children who needed it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“W
HAT
HAVE
YOU
been feeding my brother?”

The question didn't exactly sound like an accusation from her friend, but Andie wasn't quite sure. “Um. This morning, bacon, eggs and toast,” she said warily. “I made him beef stew last week. And Louise Jacobs sent over some homemade shortbread he seemed to enjoy.”

“I'm sure he did. Marsh has always had a soft spot for cookies or sweets of any variety.”

“That is an understatement.”

Andie wasn't sure she liked the way Wyn studied her. Marsh's sister had been a very good police officer. She had a great deal of experience interrogating people, persuading them to reveal things they had no intention of doing when they first sat down with her.

“I'm stunned. I hurried back to town at the earliest opportunity because I figured he was well on his way to going stir-crazy—and taking everybody else along with him. Marsh hardly ever sits still. When he's not on the job—which is most of the time—he's working out or helping my mom with something at the house or enjoying the backcountry by hiking or mountaineering.”

She could easily picture him scaling some of the local high mountain ranges, looking tanned and fit and much more relaxed than he had since his injury.

“He's also the most serious of my brothers and the least tolerant of his own human weaknesses,” Wyn went on. “I'm sure this whole thing is his worst nightmare—not just because they haven't yet found the idiot who hit him but because Marsh finds purpose and meaning in his life through his work. He's like my dad that way. It's got to be killing him—not being able to meet what he considers his sacred responsibilities because of something as inconvenient as a compound fracture.”

How was it possible that she could admire him so much for that dedication to duty while still finding it an insurmountable obstacle to any relationship between them? “He hasn't just been sitting around. I took him into the office last week for a briefing and he's been going through cold cases. I heard him tell a woman who works with him that he wants to go back to work this week, but maybe the storm and the holidays will complicate that.”

“I doubt it. I'm astonished he didn't go back the day he was released from the hospital.”

She smiled. “I'm quite sure he wanted to. He just couldn't get a ride.”

Wyn squeezed her arm. “I can't thank you enough for helping him.”

It seemed a lifetime ago that she had stood on his doorstep, wishing she didn't have to go inside and face the man who made her so nervous.

The same man who had hobbled through deep snow with a broken leg to make sure she and her children were safe the night before.

“I'm really glad you asked me,” she said truthfully. As long as she could keep her heart from being broken, she would never be sorry she had been able to help him through a difficult time and in the process had come to know him better.

“Cade told me I should never have asked you.”

“Why?” she asked, hurt and confused. As her friendship with Wyn had deepened over the summer, Andie and Cade had subsequently become good friends, as well. She'd had the two of them over for dinner several times, they exchanged vegetables from their respective gardens, and she and the kids had carved a pumpkin for Cade at Halloween.

“He said it was unfair of me. He said you would feel obligated to do whatever I asked, even if you didn't want to, because of what happened last summer. I believe he called it subtle emotional coercion.”

Marshall called it emotional blackmail. Cade's version sounded only slightly better.

“Maybe he's the one who should be taking all the psychology classes.”

“No. He's just an expert at people. Unfortunately, I think he's right on this one. I should have found someone else. Megan or Samantha or Julia Winston. Someone else who would have felt free to tell me no.”

Andie must really have it bad. Why else would she feel so territorial and find it completely abhorrent to think of any of her other friends stepping up to help Marshall after his accident?

“I'm glad you asked me,” she said again. “And anyway, I really haven't done much. A few meals, a little grocery shopping, running him to Shelter Springs that day. That's about it.”

“That's not what I heard. Mom said you've been taking great care of him.”

Andie froze, her face suddenly hot. Rats. What had Charlene told her daughter? Did
Wyn
think she and Marshall were romantically involved, too?

What was she supposed to say? She didn't want to lie to her friend, but she couldn't leave her with any misconceptions.

“You should know, Marsh might have, um, misled your mother about the two of us.”

“How so?” Wyn asked, her features deceptively innocent.

“We're not, um, you know. Seeing each other. He just gave her that impression so she would focus on that instead of stepping in to smother him.”

Again, Wyn studied her like a sharp-eyed investigator. “Are you sure?”

She fiercely wished she could control her coloring. “I think I would know if I were dating your brother,” she said tartly. “We're friends. That's all.”

“Too bad,” Wyn said. “Don't get me wrong—that was freaking brilliant of him to throw Charlene a distraction like that. I just think the two of you would be great together.”

She had to wonder if Wynona had been talking to Eliza and Megan. Did all her friends think she needed matchmaking help like Marshall needed someone to drive him around?

“We're friends. That's all,” she repeated.

Wynona didn't look convinced. “If you say so. I do think it's interesting that I hurried back to Haven Point expecting to find Marshall miserable, in pain and driving everyone crazy. Instead, he looks relaxed, well fed and happier than I've seen him in a long time.”

“Maybe he just needed a break from being sheriff for a few days.”

“Or maybe he looks happy because he
is
happy. My brother has spent entirely too much of his life and his energy focused on being in law enforcement. He needs to remember his life doesn't begin and end with the badge. Whether there's anything romantic between you two or not, I think you and your adorable kids have helped remind him of that. So thank you. Now I owe
you
a favor.”

Before she could protest, Cade came in search of Wyn.

“I've got to run. We've got more slide-offs and accidents than I've got guys to take care of.”

“Be safe,” Wyn said. “I'll see you when you're done.”

“Counting on it.” He wrapped his arms around her and she kissed him fiercely.

The two of them were so sweet together. It made Andie's heart happy to see the love they shared even as she tried to ignore the little niggle of envy.

* * *

M
UCH
TO
A
NDIE
'
S
RELIEF
, her children were on their best behavior throughout the day. No bickering, no tantrums, no claims of “I'm bored.”

She didn't give them a chance to misbehave, really. They cleaned his house from top to bottom, went out several times to help Christopher shovel snow that started again and fell steadily throughout the rest of the day, and even helped Christopher build a huge, fat-bottomed snowman while Sadie scampered around up to her belly in snow and Marshall watched from the porch.

When they were cold and wet, they went back inside and she put them to work helping her bake the cupcakes Will needed for his party the next day, then Christmas cookies to take around to the neighbors.

Her strategy seemed to be paying off. Over the late dinner—a perennial favorite pasta bake casserole the children had helped her throw together—Chloe was in the middle of telling a patient Marshall a story about playing reindeer tag at recess the week before when she suddenly gave a huge, jaw-popping yawn.

“Wow,” Marshall said with an admiring look. “That was impressive.”

Will giggled, but the sweet ripple of sound ended abruptly in a yawn that just might have been bigger than his sister's.

“Must be bedtime,” Marshall said.

“I'm not tired
at all
,” Chloe insisted.

“Neither am I,” Will said.

“That's weird,” Marshall said. “Because I'm totally
exhausted
.”

Hearing his hero admit to it was apparently enough for Will to concede the same. “Okay, I might be a
little
tired.”

“I'm not,” Chloe said. “It's not even eight yet.”

Her daughter was firmly convinced that going to sleep before her bedtime would violate some grand cosmic law.

Chloe was still learning how to tell time on a clock with hands, so she always went by the digital clock on the stove. On particularly long days, when parenting two children by herself seemed singularly exhausting, Andrea may or may not have been guilty of adjusting that digital readout ahead by fifteen minutes.

“Let's clean up the kitchen and then take your baths. By the time we're out, it will be eight.” Or close enough, anyway.

“I'll take care of the kitchen,” Marshall said. “You worry about the baths.”

She wanted to tell him she could clean it when she was done putting the children to bed, but his firm expression convinced her it would be useless to argue.

“Thank you. Come on, kids.”

They didn't argue, either too exhausted from their chaotic night and a day packed with activity or simply intrigued at the novelty of bathing in the old claw-foot tub in the guest bathroom.

The children wanted to linger in their respective baths. Finally they were both clean, dried and dressed in clean pajamas.

This was her favorite part of being a mother, when she knew they'd had a good day filled with discoveries and they were now sleepy, sweet-smelling and cuddly.

“Where's our book?” Will asked. “Did you bring it?”

“Yes. It's by the bed in the room I'm using. I packed it last night.”

She loved children's books and collected holiday stories all year long. For the past few days, they'd been reading
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever
, about the wild Herdman kids and the lessons they learned about giving.

“Do you think Marshall will read to us?”

At some point that day, Will had dropped calling him Sheriff Bailey or Sheriff Marshall. Now he was just plain Marshall.

“I don't know,” she said, not sure how she felt about giving up the sweet, quiet bonding time she considered her payoff for all the hard work of the day. “I'm sure we've bothered him enough for today. We should probably give the guy a break.”

“I'm gonna ask him anyway,” Will said.

Before she could call him back, he padded into the family room in his superhero pajamas. She could hear Will's high-pitched voice and then a lower one in reply, and a moment later, her son hurried back.

“He said he would,” he announced gleefully.

“Yay!” Chloe exclaimed. She was out the door almost before Andie finished brushing out the tangles in her hair.

Feeling a little let down, Andie cleaned up after them in the bathroom, wondering as she frequently did how it was possible for two small children to make such a mess and spill half the bathwater. When she was satisfied Marshall could safely maneuver in here on his crutches if he needed to, she followed the sound of his voice to the den.

She paused out of his view to listen. He had a beautiful, deep reading voice and inserted the perfect amount of inflection and dramatic pauses. He even changed his voice a little higher to read dialogue bits spoken by the younger children in the story.

As Andie listened, a soft, tender warmth soaked through her.

He was so good with them. She had thought him so brusque at first. Harsh and austere, even. How could she ever have guessed he would be sweet and patient and loving? He was inordinately kind to them, even though she assumed it couldn't be comfortable for him to hold Will on his lap like that or have Chloe squeezed in next to him on the recliner, leaning on his arm so he could barely turn the page.

They needed a male figure in their life. It hurt her heart that her children didn't have a grandfather or an uncle to help Will become a good, decent man and Chloe to know what things to look for in one.

Marshall could show them that. He was exactly the sort of man she would like her son to emulate and her daughter to someday seek for herself—full of strength and determination, yet also kindness and compassion.

She was falling in love with him.

The realization didn't tumble over her like a clump of snow falling from a tree branch so much as it whispered in an insistent voice she couldn't ignore.

She drew in a sharp breath. Oh. This would never do.

She
couldn't
fall for him. The implications were as disastrous as they were inevitable.

She had made a terrible mistake, letting him so far into their lives. When their paths diverged, Chloe and Will would see it as another blow, the loss of yet another important male in their world.

Anything more than friendship between them was completely impossible—and she suddenly wasn't sure she was strong enough even for that.

How could she hover on the outskirts of his life, content to see him only once in a while at some barbecue at Wyn and Cade's house, when she wanted so much more?

Regardless of how much her children might be coming to care about him and regardless of her own growing feelings, it was completely impossible.

He was a dedicated lawman. It was as much a part of him as his skin, his bones, his heart. She had lost one man she loved because of his dedication to the job—because he had tried to save someone else, instead of thinking of the family waiting for him at home. She couldn't put herself in that precarious position again and she refused to do it to Chloe and Will.