Rebecca Winters: Daddy's Christmas Miracle

They reached the corner. “See you girls later. Don’t let any vampires bite you tonight.”

The girls broke into laughter. “Bye, Mr. Brenner.”

“Bye, Matt.” Carrie again.

His son said something indistinct before they parted company and headed for the truck.

On the way home he turned to Matt. “This morning on the bus, did your sister say anything about a quarrel with her friends?”

“No.” He darted him a curious glance. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I thought all Allie’s friends were going to be over at Jen’s tonight.”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t know, but she was kind of quiet on the bus.”

Her cold could account for that, but Colt still wasn’t reassured. An uneasiness had crept over him he couldn’t explain, but she’d hate it if he phoned her at Jen’s. No teenager liked to be checked up on at a party.

He rubbed his jaw where he could feel the beginnings of a beard. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow after she gets home.”

“Dad?”

Did Matt know something after all? “Yes?”

“I think something’s wrong with Blackie’s hind leg.”

“He needs reshoeing,” Colt murmured, his mind still on his daughter. “In the morning we’ll get it taken care of before we load up more hay to take to the west pasture.” He drove up to the side of the ranch house and turned off the motor.

“After that, is it okay if I go skiing with Rich? We’ll buy a half-day pass.”

“Sounds fun.”

They both got out and walked around to the back. “You want to come with us?”

“I’d like to, but Noreen says the kitchen disposal is having problems. Since Ed’s arm is still in a cast, I promised I’d take a look at it. If it needs to be replaced, that could take some time.” For a variety of reasons, Colt wanted to be on hand when Allie got dropped off. “Let’s go skiing next Saturday. Maybe Rich’s dad will want to come, too.”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Colt followed him to the back porch. They stomped the snow off their cowboy boots before entering the house. Ten minutes later they both said good-night.

Colt checked with Noreen, who lived in the older house on the property with her husband, Ed, Colt’s ranch manager. Noreen hadn’t heard from Allie. Not that he expected her to call, but when he entered his study, he knew he wouldn’t sleep until he’d talked to his daughter.

Without hesitation, he called her cell phone. Her voice mail came on. He asked her to call him back when she could, then rang off.

Frustrated when another twenty minutes passed with no response, he looked up the Wagners’ number in the phone directory. Even though it was ten-thirty, he called them, but their voice mail came on, too. He left the message that he’d like Allie to call her father, then he hung up.

Maybe the Wagners had taken the girls to a movie or ice skating. The thought that they were all out together should have relieved him. Colt was probably obsessing for nothing, and yet …

His thoughts flew back ten years to the time when he’d gotten a strange foreboding about his grandmother. It had been early morning. Though he’d just arrived in the upper pasture with some of the hands, he turned right around and galloped home to discover his grandfather weeping over her body. “Her heart stopped beating a half hour ago, Colton. She’s gone.”

Unnerved by the memory, he decided he couldn’t sit around waiting for the phone to ring. He hurried down the hall and took the stairs two at a time to Matt’s room. His son was listening to his iPod.

When he saw him, he sat up in bed with a jerk. “Dad?”

“Get dressed and come with me to Jen’s house.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Maybe nothing. I just need to make sure Allie’s all right.”

“Okay.” He slid out of bed to put on his clothes. “I’ll meet you at the truck.”

ON HER WAY INTO THE E.R., Kathryn glanced around the lounge filled with friends and relatives of the patients. The place had never looked busier. She approached the desk and spotted Nancy, who was simultaneously talking on the phone while she entered information on the computer. The two women had become friends while Kathryn was getting her RN degree.

As soon as she saw Kathryn, she flashed a smile of relief and hung up. “Thanks for coming so fast. Our uncommunicative runaway is down the hall in the isolation area, Room Six. Her tests just came back. She’s got the H1N1 virus.”

“Is she coherent?”

“Oh, yes, but she won’t tell us how long she’s had symptoms. I think she’s been sick for a while. When they wheeled her in, she was very upset about being brought to the hospital. She told us to let her go. If she’s refusing to talk, it’s because she’s terrified about something. When the ambulance picked her up, she had no ID on her.”

“Where was she found?”

“Down near the Rio Grande Café. A pedestrian saw her collapse and called 911.”

One of the homeless shelters was near there. The airport, the Greyhound bus depot and the Amtrak station were all close by, and it seemed possible she’d come in from out of town.

“Did she speak with an accent? You know—Alabama, Boston, Texas, New Joysey? ”

Nancy laughed at her imitation and thought for a minute. “Nothing stood out. I’d say she’s from somewhere in the western states, but no central Utah drawl if you know what I mean.” They both smiled.

Good. That narrowed the field a little. “You want me to tell her about her condition?”

“Yes. I’m hoping that when you do, she’ll break down and open up to you. See what you can get out of her, will you?”

“Sure.”

Kathryn went around to a back room where she shed her parka. After removing the brochure from her purse, she stowed everything in a locker, then washed her hands. Donning a surgical mask and lab coat, she then slipped a small notepad and pen in her pocket along with the brochure and found her way down several halls to Room Six.

They’d hooked up an IV to the pretty brunette lying there in a hospital gown with her eyes closed. Before she did anything else, Kathryn opened the girl’s locker and took her bag of clothes out in the hall to examine.

She’d been wearing a North Face parka, navy jeans, a red, long-sleeved pullover sweater, Nike Air Morgans with hook-and-ladder fasteners, and tube socks. Everything higher end and clean. No smell of smoke. All items could have been purchased in a major department store anywhere across the nation.

After Kathryn returned the bag back to the locker, she walked over to the computer and brought up the police report first.

Jane Doe. Age 14–16. Caucasian. Picked up at 4:10 p.m., Friday, Nov 19. A pedestrian, Ronald Ewing, 50, Grantsville, Utah, saw her slump onto the sidewalk at 300 south, fifth west, Salt Lake, and called emergency on his cell phone. Approx height 5’5?, weight 115 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, teeth in excellent condition. No evidence of alcohol. No needle marks. No sign of drugs hidden on her body or in her clothes. No purse or wallet. No money. No injury marks, no sign of assault, rape or foul play.

There were a lot more things Kathryn could add simply by looking at her. Aside from the fact that she had the flu, she was the picture of health and excellent hygiene. Her nails were well cared for, her shoulder-length hair had a gloss to it.

The hospital stats indicated a fever of 101.4 when she was brought in. No vomiting or diarrhea. They were hydrating her and giving her medicine to bring down her temperature. Since the last check of vital signs, there’d been a drop of one degree. That was good news.

She was someone’s darling.

Kathryn snagged a stool and sat down at the side of the hospital bed. “Hi, Anna. I’m Katy.”