Holiday in a Stetson: The Sheriff Who Found Christmas / A Rancho Diablo Christmas

Chapter Three

“So, have you whittled that boss of yours down to size yet?”

Retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant Wayne Chisholm tossed the question over his shoulder when he heard his front door open and then close again later that evening. He was in the kitchen cooking dinner, and assuming that his daughter would be stopping by after work, the way she did most evenings.

They shared a great bond, Lani and he. Aside from each being the other’s only family, he was very proud of the fact that they not only genuinely loved one another, but liked each other, as well.

After his second retirement, he had come to Booth and settled down. The small Texas town reminded him a great deal of the sleepy little town in Montana where he’d grown up. But the winters up north were too harsh for him now, especially since, after twenty years in Southern California, he had grown accustomed to a warmer climate. Booth combined the weather of Southern California with the atmosphere of the Montana town that had once been his home. Settling here just seemed right to him.

His only concern had been leaving Lani behind, but he needn’t have worried. She followed soon afterward. She’d waited only long enough to see if he was happy in his newly adopted home. Once he said he was, she’d pulled up stakes and joined him.

“I’m working on it, Gunny. I’m working on it,” Lani answered as she walked into the small, welcoming kitchen.

Shrugging out of her sheepskin jacket, she dropped it on the back of one of the two chairs and smiled wearily at the squat bull of a man hovering over the twelve-quart stockpot.

Whatever he was stirring smelled like heaven, she thought. Whiffs of steam emerged, but her father didn’t seem to notice, or be bothered by the heat.

As she watched him, affection swelled in her heart. Gunny had single-handedly raised her after her mother had died. He liked to say that they had actually raised each other because, without her mom around, he’d had to grow up and become a full-time parent really fast. Lani loved him dearly.

When he had moved here, she hadn’t hesitated. Unable to imagine life without her father somewhere close by, she’d quit her job and followed him out. When she saw the position open for deputy sheriff, she’d jumped at the chance of doing something close to her own line of work.

“My money’s on you, kid,” Gunny said with conviction. “Dinner’s about ready, so don’t get comfortable. You’ve got work to do.”

Lani grinned and crossed to the kitchen cabinet over the counter next to the sink. That was where her father kept the dishes. He cooked; she set the table. It was a division of labor she could more than live with.

“Smells good,” she told him, pausing to take a deep whiff of the aroma coming from the stovetop.

She didn’t have to look to identify what was for dinner. Beef stew, made with lots of tiny potatoes, in addition to baby peas and petite carrots—just the way she liked it.

“Have I ever made anything that didn’t?” he asked, only half teasing. “Besides, nothing but the best for my girl.”

About to open the overhead cabinet to take down two plates, Lani abruptly stopped, and instead, crossed over to her father. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and, leaning her head against his broad back, gave him a fierce hug.

“Hey, what’s that all about?” Turning around carefully so that he faced her, and holding his large wooden spoon aloft, he returned the hug with his free arm.

“Just wanted to let you know that I realize how very lucky I am to have a father like you,” she murmured.

“Well, I can’t argue with perfect logic like that,” he acknowledged, then, gently moving her back so he could look at her face, Gunny became serious. “What happened?”

Lani took a deep breath before answering. As she talked, she stepped aside, allowing him to get on with what he’d been doing.

“The sheriff got a phone call today from some social worker out in New Mexico. His sister was in a bus accident.”

“She all right?” Gunny asked.

“No.” Lani shook her head. “She’s dead,” she told him grimly. “Piecing things together, I figured out that she grew up in Booth, and was coming back to live here with her daughter.” Opening the drawer where her dad kept the silverware, she stopped for a moment to say, “The sheriff didn’t even know his sister had a daughter.”

“Bad blood between them?” her father asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Lani admitted. “There was some kind of misunderstanding, I think. Seems that his sister married someone just like the sheriff’s stepfather.”

Gunny thought for a moment and filled in the blanks. “Which put the sheriff’s nose out of joint?” It was more a question than a statement.

“I think it did more than that, but he won’t talk about it. The man won’t talk about anything,” she told her father, exasperated. “But I got the impression that life was hell for him when he was growing up under his stepfather’s roof.”

Now it all made sense. “Which is why you hugged me,” he stated.

“Kind of,” she admitted with a grin. Forks and knives in hand, she continued setting the table. “And also because I haven’t told you lately how grateful I am that you didn’t just ship me off somewhere when Mom died.”

“Can’t take too much credit for that.” Gunny smiled at his only offspring. “Nowhere to send you, really. Neither your mom nor I had any brothers or sisters. Her parents were both gone, and mine weren’t exactly the kind of people to leave in charge of a little girl.”

Lani knew that her grandparents on his side had both had more than their share of drinking issues, which made her marvel all the more about the kind of person their son had turned out to be. He’d been a little strict, but loving and oh so protective of her.

In the beginning, he had taken her with him whenever the Corps had moved him around the country. And when that became a problem, when it looked as if he was going to be stationed in a less than stable region of the world, he had resigned his commission. Just like that, he had opted to take the retirement he really wanted no part of, and had gone in search of a different career. Because of his background, and the degree he’d earned while in the marines, he’d become an engineer. For her.

Lani paused before taking out two tall glasses, and brushed her lips against the five o’clock shadow growing on his cheek. “Well, I appreciate the sacrifice.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledged with a dramatic sigh, “it’s been really hard putting up with a bratty kid all these years.”

She pretended to look at him sternly—as if she ever could. “I meant giving up your commission and entering the private sector.”

“Well, that didn’t turn out too bad,” he speculated. “Got to do my bit in defense of my country, just from another angle.” That was her father’s succinct summation of his years spent as an engineer in the aerospace-defense industry. “And now I get to be retired, cooking for you.”

“You’d cook whether I was here or not,” she pointed out.

“True, but it’s nice having a guinea pig,” he countered with a laugh. “Which reminds me. Come here, I need you to sample something.” Taking the wooden spoon in hand again, he dipped the tip of it into the pot he’d been stirring when she walked in, and held it out to her. “What do you think?” As she moved in to take a taste, he cautioned, “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks for the warning,” she said drily. “I didn’t see the steam billowing out of the pot on the stove.”

He laughed, shaking his head as she sampled the stew. “Whoever marries you is going to have his hands full.”

“Good,” Lani declared. “The stew, not the crack you just made about my future, nameless husband,” she clarified when he looked at her, amused. She plucked two napkins out of the ceramic holder in the center of the small table, and tucked them beside the plates. “You mind if I take some of your world-famous stew for someone else?” She was thinking ahead to the next evening.

“Well, when you butter me up like that, how can I say no?” Her dad transferred a portion of the stew into a tureen, then placed that in the center of the table. “Do I get to know who this someone is, or is it a secret?”

“No, no secret,” she told him, sitting down. She spooned out a helping of stew for herself. “It’s for Tanner and his niece, when he gets back with her.”

Taking the ladle from her, Gunny followed suit, doling out a larger portion for himself. He’d built up an appetite cooking. He wasn’t one of those people who constantly sampled as they went. He claimed it ruined the appetite, not to mention that it produced fat cooks.

“Oh?”

“No, not ‘oh,’” she retorted, picking up on her dad’s inflection. “The sheriff’s going to have his niece with him, and something tells me he’s going to really need help dealing with this. I’ve got a feeling that he has no idea how to act around a little girl, and doesn’t know the first thing about what they need.”

Gunny’s expression gave no indication what he was thinking. “So you’re going to feed him and volunteer to teach him how to be a substitute dad.”

She looked at her father pointedly. “Someone once told me that if I see someone who needs a hand, I should stop and give him one.”

“Wise person, that someone,” he commented, pausing to wipe the corner of his mouth.

Lani laughed. “Yes, I always thought so. Wise and incredibly modest.” She got up to get herself a can of soda from the refrigerator.

Her father nodded. “Good combination. Hey, while you’re over there, why don’t you get your old dad a beer?”

Lani looked back at him, fisting her hand on her hip. Her eyebrows drew together in a pseudo scowl, emulating what she’d seen on the sheriff’s face. “What did I say about that?”

“Sorry. While you’re over there, why don’t you get your young dad a beer?”

“Much better. One beer coming up.” She pulled open the refrigerator door, thinking again just how very lucky she was.

Chapter Four

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.