A Holiday gift for readers of

American Romance

Two heartwarming Christmas novellas from two of your favorite authors

The Sheriff Who Found Christmas by Marie Ferrarella A Rancho Diablo Christmas by Tina Leonard

Holiday in a Stetson

The Sheriff Who Found Christmas

Marie Ferrarella

A Rancho Diablo Christmas

Tina Leonard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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The Sheriff Who Found Christmas

Marie Ferrarella

Dear Reader,

I have always been a sucker for a Christmas story. To date, I think I’ve seen It’s a Wonderful Life about forty times. Each year, when Hallmark airs its traditional Christmas story, I’m right there, watching every minute—even the commercials, which all have to do with Christmas cards and coming home or reconnecting with family. I get misty-eyed just thinking about it.

For me, there truly is nothing greater than a story that takes place around Christmas—unless it’s a story about a cowboy. Put the two together and, well, I’m there. So when I was asked to write a short story taking place around Christmas time and set in a Texas town, they had me at “Could you—?” Needless to say, writing this story about a withdrawn sheriff who is forced to reach out to his late sister’s newly orphaned daughter and not just give her a home but a Christmas to remember, as well—and who does so with the help of his deputy, a transplanted homicide detective from San Diego—was nothing short of a labor of love for me.

I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I did writing it. In closing, I wish you love this holiday season—and always.

Love,

Marie Ferrarella

About the Author

MARIE FERRARELLA is a USA TODAY bestselling author and RITA® Award winner. She has written over two hundred books for Silhouette and Harlequin Books, some under the name of Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.

To Mama,

I miss you every day,

But

most of all,

I miss you at Christmas

Chapter One

He wasn’t a superstitious man.

He wasn’t a man who believed in very much of anything, actually. But there were times when Sheriff Garrett Tanner felt as if fate, or the powers that be, or whatever it was that gave order to the universe, had it in for him.

This feeling involved more than just his childhood, which for all intents and purposes had come to an abrupt, jarring end when he was five. That was when his father, a loving, gentle giant of a man, died suddenly. His mother, Mary, an exceedingly timid woman unable to exist without a husband, remarried less than six months later. Her second choice, made from desperation rather than anything her heart dictated, was a tough-as-nails ex-marine.

Garrett’s stepfather, Wendell Warner, never missed an opportunity to belittle him and bully him. It was a harsh childhood, but some kids had worse ones. Garrett had survived his, and ultimately, it had made him strong. Unlike some, faced with demoralizing factors in their lives, he didn’t become a homeless drifter or a serial killer, both of which, statistics were quick to point out, half the abused children grew up to become.

He’d outlived his tormentor—his stepfather had died in a drunken bar fight on the receiving end of the jagged edge of a broken bottle—and Garrett had gone on to become the sheriff of the very town his late stepfather had had nothing but contempt for.

As it turned out, his mother had exactly six months of freedom before she slipped on a patch of ice and hit her head on the curb. She died twelve days later without ever regaining consciousness. Garrett had her buried in the plot beside his father. It was his way of denying that his stepfather had ever existed.

With his parents gone, he’d wanted to do nothing more than go about his job and live out his days in the small town of Booth, Texas, southwest of Houston. He’d figured that things like having a wife and family were beyond the realm of emotionally damaged people like him, and he was fine with that. Being alone really didn’t bother him. He’d been alone even when his mother and stepfather were alive and he had lived with them.

The only person he had ever been close to during those years was his half sister, Ellen. Infused with his own father’s ethics, Garrett had looked after her while she was growing up, and had kept her, as much as he could, out of his stepfather’s way.

The situation grew more and more tense, and he’d believed that one day they would come to a head over Ellen. But then she’d abruptly quit high school—to marry a marine who’d been created in the image and likeness of her dad. Everything about Private First Class Steve Duffy reeked of the abusive ways of her father—right down, Garrett suspected, to verbally controlling her and making her feel worthless.

Just before Ellen had run off, Garrett had come as close to begging as he ever had in his life. He had asked her not to marry Duffy, but she did anyway. The morning after he’d tried to appeal to her better judgment, she was gone. Shortly thereafter, she’d called to tell their mother that she was now Mrs. Steve Duffy.

Garrett had lost track of Ellen after that. Seven whole years went by without a word from her. And then, a month ago, he’d gotten a letter. It began with her apology for allowing so much time to pass without contacting him. He suspected even more would have gone by if it hadn’t been for the fact that her husband had “died serving his country.”

Garrett was more inclined to think that the quicktempered marine had probably died in some sort of one-on-one confrontation with the relative of another woman he was attempting to hurt and brutalize.

Whatever the cause of his brother-in-law’s demise, Garrett privately thought it was a reason to rejoice more than mourn. His sister was finally free to reclaim her life, and still young enough to enjoy it and make something of herself.

When he’d read that she was thinking of coming “back home,” he’d been surprised. But once he entertained that notion, he had to admit that he was very pleased. His sister was, after all, the only person he had ever opened up to. The only person he had really cared about.

Hard though it was to own up to, he’d lost any feelings for his mother a long time ago, around the time she’d first allowed his stepfather to take a strap to him and whip him.

Anticipating Ellen’s arrival, Garrett had started getting things ready for her. He’d told her that she was welcome to stay with him for as long as she wanted. And he was completely unprepared for the phone call that came as he sat in his office this morning.

Rather than his sister, he found himself talking to a social worker named Beth Honeycutt. As he listened, a feeling of foreboding came over him. The disembodied voice told him that there had been an accident. The bus Ellen had been on had been involved in a head-on collision with a cross-country Mack truck.

The room around Garrett grew very dark, despite the fact that it was ten in the morning and the sun had until moments ago filled the small sheriff’s office.

He clutched the receiver in his hand, feeling the life drain out of him. He heard a distant voice asking if there’d been any survivors. Belatedly, he realized that the voice belonged to him.

“Just one,” the solemn woman on the other end of the line told him. “Your niece survived, Sheriff Tanner.”

The numbness inside him splintered a hairbreadth, just enough to allow a measure of confusion to push its way in. Ellen hadn’t said anything about having a daughter.

Maybe there’d been some mistake. Maybe this was someone else’s sister and the woman had gotten phone numbers mixed up.

“What niece?” he asked in a raspy tone.

“Yours,” the social worker told him. “Ellen Duffy’s little girl. She’s six years old and her name is Ellie.”

Garrett’s voice, already low, became even lower as he growled, “There has to be some mistake. My sister didn’t have any children.”

“She had this one,” Beth insisted. “Your niece was discovered unconscious in the wreckage. Apparently her body had been shielded by her mom. It looked as if Mrs. Duffy threw herself over the girl at the last minute. Most likely, she died saving her daughter.”

The woman who had thrown his entire world into chaos with just a few simple sentences paused to take a breath, then continued. “Ellie was taken to the hospital. The doctors found that she sustained some cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. She was released within a few hours. When can you come by to pick her up?”

Garrett felt like a man trapped in a nightmare. What the woman on the other end of the line was asking wasn’t registering in his brain. “How’s that again?” he murmured.

“When can you come by to pick up your niece?” Beth Honeycutt repeated. She sounded sympathetic, but removed.

He said the first thing that occurred to him. “I don’t know.”

Garrett struggled to deal with the huge curve he had been thrown. For the most part, when he wasn’t patrolling Booth, he led a very solitary life. He didn’t mingle, didn’t join in any of the festivities that were periodically held in town—not in summer and especially not around the holidays, which were swiftly approaching.

There was no place for a child in his life. He’d had a dog once, a mongrel named Blue, but that had been more a case of the animal adopting him than the other way around. Moreover, it had taken a long time before he’d accepted the dog into his life. Blue’s passing had left Garrett more emotionally isolated than before.

A child? No, he had no place for one, no ability to take care of one. There had to be some other option, some alternate course.

“Look,” he said, still reeling from the news of Ellen’s death, “can’t you find some place for her?”

The social worker sounded neither surprised nor annoyed. Apparently, she’d heard requests like this before. “You are your sister’s only living relative. If you don’t accept responsibility for your niece, there’s no alternative but to put her into the system. What that means—”

“I know what that means,” he said, cutting the woman off. It meant a string of foster homes and a nomadic life at best. At worst …

At worst she could wind up in a home like the one he’d grown up in.

In all good conscience, he couldn’t do that to Ellen’s child.

“So you’ll come to pick her up?” Ms. Honeycutt asked, taking his interruption to mean he’d changed his mind.

Pick her up. As if he was swinging by a restaurant to pick up an order of takeout.

Garrett frowned.

Pulling out a sheet of paper, he picked up a pen and asked, “Where is it, exactly, that you’re located?”

The woman rattled off an address in the center of Santa Fe, New Mexico. The accident, she went on to tell him, had taken place just outside the city limits.

Ellen hadn’t even made it back to Texas, much less to Booth, Garrett thought, feeling an uncustomary pang.

Damn it, Ellen, you should have listened to me. You shouldn’t have married that creep in the first place. Then you’d still be alive.

But she had married Duffy, and now she was gone.

And Garrett had a niece.

What the hell was he going to do with a little girl? he wondered. He didn’t even have anywhere to put her—unless he fixed up his couch. He supposed that would have to do until he figured out his next move.

After muttering a few final words to the social worker, Garrett hung up the phone. Tossing the receiver back into its cradle would have been a more accurate description.

Damn it all to hell, anyway.

“Something wrong, Sheriff?”

The question came from the second reason he thought that fate—or whatever—had it in for him.

Slowly, Garrett turned in his swivel chair to face the other occupant in the small office, a space that had until recently been his private domain.

Six months ago the town council—six of the wealthiest men in Booth—had whimsically decided that keeping the peace in the extremely slow growing Texas town required more than just one person. Telling Garrett that they didn’t want him to wear himself out, they had gone on to insist he needed a deputy, someone he could share the load with.

Or the boredom, he’d thought at the time.

Then, because he turned down each and every potential candidate who came in to interview for the newly created position, the town council arbitrarily took it upon themselves to do the interviewing—and hiring.

Garrett knew he was doomed then.

And he’d been right. To a man, the six-member committee had voted to hire a law enforcement agent who had just moved here from San Diego—a former homicide detective named Lani Chisholm. A woman he now considered a perpetual thorn in his side. A woman who, much to his annoyance, seemed intent on bringing sunshine to every dim corner of their mutual existence.

He’d given up hoping that she would find life here too uneventful and dull, and would move back to San Diego.

Instead, she appeared to have the staying power of an application of Superglue.

Her bright, cheerful smile, evident even in the early hours of the morning, got on his nerves. As did her voice. It was much too sultry for a deputy.

He raised his eyes, shifting them in her direction, and glared at her. As Davy Crockett had been reputed to do, he’d decided to stare down what he considered to be his adversary.

Chapter Two

He really was a challenge, Lani thought, looking at the man she took orders from—whenever he deigned to speak to her, which wasn’t all that often. She supposed that was because ever since he’d become sheriff, he’d been alone in this office, and wasn’t accustomed to speaking aloud while he sat at his desk. Having a deputy thrust upon him had to require some adjustment on his part. She understood that and was willing to wait until it happened.

She was still waiting.

Lani had been hoping that the approaching Christmas season would soften Tanner up a little, make him more human. For the most part, she was a mixture of optimism and practicality, but even so, it became more and more apparent to her that as far as the sheriff’s epiphany was concerned, she had been deluding herself.

Garrett Tanner had no intentions of coming around or of showing her a softer side, because the man had no softer side.

Still, soft or stern, he did owe her an answer to her question.

An answer that wasn’t coming unless she made a point of asking again. So she did, this time raising her voice. “Something wrong, Sheriff?”

Rather than answer, Garrett shot back a question of his own. “Why?”

Giving him a wide, forced grin, Lani said, “Well, you seem surlier than usual. I was just wondering what set you off, that’s all.”

His eyes narrowed. Though he would have thought that by now she would have run out of ideas, she still found new ways to annoy the hell out of him.

“You mean you were just being nosy.”

“There’s that,” Lani allowed cheerfully, deliberately taking no offense. There was no point in it.

Besides, four years on the SDPD had helped her develop a very tough hide. That little life lesson had never come in handier than when dealing with a man she viewed as the prince of darkness. Not the devil in this case, just a man who seemed to prefer keeping his life and everything else in the shadows.

“And,” she continued, refusing to be put off by his scowl, “I was wondering if maybe I could help.”

“Help?” he echoed, stunned. “How could you help?” How the hell could anyone help? he thought. This was a huge, unsolvable dilemma he found himself facing. He didn’t want the little girl, but on the other hand, it didn’t seem right just letting the system absorb her. That would be a fate worse than living with him.

“Well, first I’d have to know what was wrong, then I could hopefully answer that question to your satisfaction,” Lani replied matter-of-factly. Then the wide grin returned as she declared, “Okay, your turn.”

“My turn?” he echoed. What the hell was she talking about now? He didn’t have time for whatever game she thought she was playing. “My turn for what?” he barked.

Determined not to be put off by his dark glare and darker voice, Lani spelled it out. “I answered your question. Now you tell me what’s wrong, so I can tell you how I can help.”

There was no way she could help. No one could. Ordinarily, he would just walk out without saying another word. But ordinarily, he didn’t have anyone in the office to walk out on. Having this woman here, nibbling along the perimeters of his everyday life, had thrown everything off. Which was possibly the reason he heard himself answering the woman’s question.

“My only sister was killed two days ago in a bus accident.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” It took Lani less than a second to react. She was on her feet and crossing over to him quickly.

Before Garrett was actually aware that she’d stood up, his deputy was placing what he assumed was a comforting hand on his shoulder. His own reaction was purely instinctive, brought on by years of fending off his stepfather’s blows. He stiffened.

Lani did her best to appear as if she hadn’t noticed that he’d gone stiff as a board. Putting herself in his place, thinking how she would have felt if she’d had a sibling to lose, instead of being an only child, she asked kindly, “What can I do to help?”

Garret shrugged her hand off as he swung around in his chair to look at her.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he demanded. “She’s dead. There is no help for her.”

Lani got it. He was angry and there was no one to take it out on but her. She’d seen enough bereaved relatives in her four years on the force to understand the complex emotions at work here. She took no offense, and instead, let him rail at her.

“I meant what can I do to help you? You were obviously close to her,” she added, when he glared at her, silently indicating that she should back off. “I can see it in your eyes.”

His immediate response was to tell her that it was none of her business. But somehow the words didn’t come out. Instead, he heard himself saying in a hollow voice that echoed the emptiness he felt inside of him, “She was coming with her daughter.”

Was.

His sister was relegated to the past tense now, Garrett realized. There was a knot in his gut that threatened to become incredibly painful.

He didn’t want words of consolation; Lani could tell that by the set of his jaw. So she focused on the living. “Is the girl all right?”

He blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

He said that almost grudgingly. Did he resent his niece being alive when his sister had been killed?

You poor kid, Lani couldn’t help thinking. You don’t know what you’re in for.

“How old is she? Your niece,” she prompted, when the sheriff didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know,” he said impatiently. “I didn’t even know my sister had a kid until a few minutes ago.”

Lani stared at him. She knew the man kept to himself, but she’d assumed he was that way around people he considered outsiders, not his own family. Not for the first time Lani wondered what had happened to Tanner to make him this way. No one was born with the kind of disposition he had. Something had to have happened to make him back away from people.

“How could you not know?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself. Lani bit her lower lip, waiting to be chewed out.

“She married a guy who was just like my stepfather, and moved away. We lost touch,” he retorted, angry at Ellen for being so stupid. Angry at himself for not stopping her. And angry at this petite blonde, blue-eyed perpetual thorn who’d just rubbed salt into all these old wounds. Never mind that it was unwitting on her part. She’d still managed to do it. “Any other questions?” he growled.

“No,” Lani replied, feeling for him despite the fact that he was acting pretty much like a wounded bear. “I think I can pretty much fill in the blanks.”

“Oh?” What blanks? he wanted to demand, but he restrained himself.

She could hear a dangerous note in his voice, but Lani decided it best to pretend she hadn’t. Instead, she gave him the theory she’d just worked up.

“Yes. You told your sister not to marry the guy, she did anyway, and you told her that you were washing your hands of her. Hurt, she retreated, and you put her out of your mind. For the most part,” Lani qualified. “But you went on caring about her, anyway.”

Garrett rose to his feet, towering over the woman by a good ten inches. She was as fair in coloring as he was dark. He thought it rather ironic, reflecting the difference in their dispositions.

Right now, she was annoying the hell out of him—the way she did most days. But today he’d had just about enough.

“So, how long did you travel with the carnival as a fortune teller?” he asked coldly. “Or did you have a little storefront shop of your own back in San Francisco?”

“San Diego,” Lani corrected with no animosity. “And no storefront, no carnival. I do have a degree in criminology,” she replied, deliberately putting on the smile that she knew drove him crazy. “I minored in profiling.” Had he actually looked at the résumé she’d submitted, he would have known that, she thought. She turned her attention to a more pertinent question. “So, when are you going?”

“Going?” he repeated. He felt cornered and highly resented it. He wasn’t accustomed to people burrowing into his business. Folks in Booth knew better. But that was partially because they knew about his stepfather and the kind of abuse the man had inflicted on his family. They cut Garnett some slack and appreciated the work he did.

“Yes, to pick up your niece. Or is someone bringing her to you?”

He frowned. The woman who had called him with the news hadn’t offered to bring Ellie or to accompany Ellen’s remains. That meant that both were his responsibility. “I’m going,” he told the annoying deputy, then added, almost to himself, “I’ve got to see about making arrangements to bury my sister.”

“Where?” Lani asked.

He looked at her. What kind of question was that? Did she want a blow-by-blow description? “What do you mean, where? In the ground.”

“I mean are you going to bury her in New Mexico, or here in Booth?”

He hadn’t thought of that. He was still dealing with finding out that Ellen was dead. “There, I guess.”

Lani suppressed the impulse to tell him that wasn’t a good idea. Instead, she tried to tactfully steer him in what she felt was the better direction.

“Why don’t you bring her back here? This was her home, right?” Lani had done her homework on her silent boss and found out that he had grown up in the vicinity. That meant his sister had, as well. “That way your niece could feel as if her mother’s close by.”

What kind of nonsense was this woman babbling about? “What do you mean, ‘close by’? Her mother’s dead.”

This man had a soul; Lani knew it was in there someplace. Finding it was going to be a huge challenge, but she was suddenly determined to do it. “It’s a state of mind thing. Trust me, having her mother’s grave close by will help her. It did me.” Because Tanner gave her what she took to be a quizzical look, she went on to explain, “My mother died when I was really young. Whenever I was trying to work something out, or feeling particularly upset, it helped having a grave site to go visit. I’d sit there sometimes for an hour, talking to her.”

She loved her father dearly and he had tried to be there for her at all times, but sometimes, it just helped talking things out with her mother. Even if there were no audible answers.

She searched Garrett’s face, trying to see if he understood what she was telling him.

He looked somewhat uncomfortable. “That’s more than I wanted to know.”

“So you say,” Lani replied brightly. She wasn’t buying it for a minute. As she turned to go back to her desk, she heard a world-weary sigh escape from his lips.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought, turning back. “You want me to come with you?” The quizzical expression on his face deepened. “To pick up your niece.”

If he was being totally honest, what he would have wanted was to have her go instead of him, but he couldn’t very well say that. This little girl—Ellie, was it?—was his responsibility, not his gabby deputy’s. Besides, someone had to remain in Booth. That, he assumed, had been part of the town council’s thinking behind hiring a deputy. So that if he was called away, there would still be someone here to watch over the town.

Not that it needed that much watching.

“No,” he muttered. “The council wants someone to be in Booth at all times.”

Humor played along her lips. She’d been in town for six months and in that time, the only “crime” that had come to her attention was that Mrs. Willows had her mailbox knocked over, and that was only because her sister had accidentally backed her car into it and hadn’t owned up to the deed until three days later.

“Lots of people are in Booth at all times,” she pointed out glibly. “I don’t think they’d have anything against the town being ‘sheriffless’ for a couple of days.”

He frowned. “I’m not interested in your opinions,” he snapped. “Just mind the shop.”

She couldn’t continue arguing with him about everything, not without risking having him fire her. So she retreated.

“Will do,” she promised with a smart salute. “Oh, and Sheriff?”

He was already at the front door, one hand on the doorknob. Bracing himself, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Go easy on her,” Lani advised. “She just lost her mom.”

“She’s not the only one who lost someone,” Garrett replied.

“Yes, but right now I’m betting it feels like that to her.” Lani thought of a way to eliminate the initial awkwardness. “On your trip back, while you’re driving, you might want to tell her a couple of stories about your sister when she was a little girl.”

Now what was the deputy getting at? “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

“It’ll help you bond with her,” Lani assured him.

Garrett left the office, muttering under his breath.

Lani shook her head, turning back to her desk. “Good luck, little girl,” she murmured. “You’re really going to need it.”

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.

Chapter Five

“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.

THE 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.

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