Cynthia Thomason - High Country Cop

“Nice meeting you,” Sam called. When they were out of hearing range, he said, “She might have a hard time convincing folks in this town that Lawton is completely rehabilitated. I’ve only been here a couple of years, and even I know that Dale Jefferson’s name comes up every time we have a crime. And it’s common knowledge that Lawton was his sidekick for a number of years.”

Carter nodded. “I know, but the Miranda I remember is a determined female, so unless she’s changed, she’ll do everything she can to make Lawton’s transition an easy one.”

Sam had already dug into his chicken dinner. Watching Miranda across the room, Carter didn’t know how the greasy Southern meal would settle in his knotted stomach.

* * *

CARTER TOOK TWO days off every week, Wednesday and Sunday, a luxury not afforded to many small-town police chiefs. He took Sunday because things were usually quiet in town with tourists leaving the High Country mountains at the end of their weekends. He took Wednesday because the tourists hadn’t yet started to invade the mountains for cooling weekend trips. Normally Carter went out to Snowy Mountain Farm on Wednesdays to see if he could help out.

Carter’s maternal grandfather had started Snowy Mountain five decades earlier, and it was still a small but thriving business. The Cahill family grew five thousand Fraser fir trees every year, selling most of the crop to North Carolina residents who came back year after year to pick out their holiday trees. Christmas-tree choosing and cutting had become longtime traditions to the folks who kept coming back, and Carter’s mother, Cora, who’d inherited the farm from her father, always welcomed families with hot cocoa, a visit with Santa himself and a full gift shop of ornaments and trinkets.

In truth, it took a lot of work and effort to have five thousand trees ready every November. Trees had to be shaped and sheared several times during the year, and a new crop had to be planted from seeds, fertilized and watched over until the trees were full grown in seven years’ time. When a family picked out a tree, few realized that the Cahill family had been nurturing the heavenly scented beauty for almost a decade.

Holding the gasoline-powered shears, Carter turned to his brother, Jace, who had shown up today to help. Carter took sound-deafening headphones from over his ears. “How many part-time guys do we have working today, Jace?” Carter asked.

“Five. I could use a couple more hands, but if we keep on schedule, we should have a hundred trees pruned by the end of the day.”

“That will be a good start to the summer cuts.” He turned his attention to a lone figure winding her way up the hillside between stands of trees. “Here comes Mama. Hope she’s got coffee in that thermos.”

“Me, too,” Jace said.

When Cora Cahill reached her boys, she sat on a block of wood the men used to trim the highest tree levels and took a deep breath. “That climb up the hill gets harder every time.” Smiling, she added, “But I’ve brought coffee, so I’m sure you boys will think that my nearly killing myself was worth it.”

“Why don’t you use the golf cart?” Carter asked, taking the cup she offered.

“And admit I can’t make it up here?” Cora said. “Never. Put down the shears for a minute, fellas, so I can catch up with you.”

“We’re coming to dinner tonight, Mama. You can catch up then.”

“Yeah, but some topics can’t wait.”

Using this opening to mention a subject that had been on his mind, Carter said, “Yeah, like why you aren’t going with Aunt Dolly to Hawaii.”

Cora frowned. “Did she tell you that? Dolly’s always had loose lips.”

“She told me you canceled on her. But she said you didn’t tell her why. What’s going on?”

“I did so tell her. I said it just wasn’t a good time for a vacation, that’s all. A woman’s allowed to change her mind.”

Carter narrowed his eyes. “You were looking forward to this vacation, so why don’t you reschedule? Pick a winter month when you’ll really enjoy the sunshine.”

“I have my reasons for making this decision,” Cora said. “So enough about this trip. I want to ask you some questions, Carter.”

Carter and Jace sipped their coffees, knowing the futility of stopping Cora once she wanted to be heard.

“Okay, since neither of you will ask, I’ll tell you.” Staring at Carter, she said, “Miranda Jefferson is back in town, but I’ll bet you already knew that.”

Carter sighed. Here we go. “I knew. I ran into her at Dale Jefferson’s place. She’s doing some social work for Lawton, trying to make his leaving prison easier.”

“How did that go?” Cora asked.

Trying to steer the conversation away from his mother’s obvious interest, Carter said, “How did Lawton’s integration go? Don’t know, Mama. He just got back to town.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Cora snapped. “How did it go between you and Miranda?”

“Fine. Why wouldn’t it? Miranda and I called it quits years ago. A lot has happened since then.”

“Most definitely has,” Cora said. “But now you’re both single, and you never know...”

“Mama, stop it. I’m not interested in Miranda. You know that, and I’d appreciate it if the gossip in this town turned to other subjects. Miranda and I might end up friends after all this time, but I even have my doubts about that.”

Cora looked at a spot halfway down the hillside. “I’m not so sure,” she said.

Carter turned his attention to the narrow path his mother had just taken up the hill. Sure enough, another woman was coming up to join them. The blond streaks in her brown hair glinted in the sunlight as she progressed up the incline slowly and carefully. “What the heck is she doing here?” Carter asked. “And why would she attempt this trip in those stupid sandals? She probably hasn’t climbed a mountain in years.”

CHAPTER FOUR

CARTER NEVER HAD a chance to satisfy his curiosity about Miranda’s arrival on Snowy Mountain. His mother had shot up from her wood block seat and was rushing down the path to meet her. “Miranda, oh, honey, it’s so good to see you.”

Carter could hear the squeals from several hundred feet away.

Cora was a profusion of questions and smiles. Apparently she was determined to get Miranda to open up since her son had refused. Well, she likely wouldn’t get any more information than her son had given her. Miranda was here on business to take care of her cousin. That was that.

“How have you been?” Cora asked. “Why haven’t you come home before now? I hear you have a daughter. I want to hear all about her.”

Unfortunately Carter couldn’t hear Miranda’s answers. Her enthusiasm at seeing Cora again seemed genuine but underwhelming next to Cora’s boisterous greeting. Although Miranda and Cora had always gotten along, which was a victory in itself considering Raymond Cahill’s constant attempts to keep Miranda away from his family.

Arm in arm, like two long-lost friends, the two women joined up with the men.

“Hi, Carter,” Miranda said.

“Morning.”

“I stopped at your office, but the dispatcher told me this was your day off. And by the way, I was so happy to see Mrs. Moynahan again. She was always so nice to us in high school.”

“She’s a peach,” Carter said. “Why did you go to the office?”

“I wanted to see you. Mrs. Moynahan said you’d probably be here at the tree farm.”

“Same as most every Wednesday,” he said. “You’re here without your daughter?”

“I hired a girl from the college to watch Emily today. They’re going to the animal rescue center. An injured hawk came in last night, and the vet is going to repair the bird’s wing. That’s right up Em’s alley.”