Ruth Herne - The Lawman's Yuletide Baby

She didn’t elaborate and it wasn’t his business to delve, but why hadn’t she been with her parents?

Not his business, so he kept to baseball. “They had softball there?”

“Hardball.”

She’d surprised him again. “You played hardball?”

“Seven years. When I got to high school girls could only play softball, and that’s a whole other game.” She moved a chair that didn’t need moving and shrugged. “I moved on to other things. That’s why I loved seeing Amy make the team when Drew Slade came back to town. A girl with that kind of talent shouldn’t be relegated to a minimal role in anything.”

“If you’re good enough, you play.” It made sense to him, regardless of gender.

“That’s something you and I can agree on.” She didn’t mention the festival controversy per se, but he understood the meaning behind the words.

“Gabe.” Mack called his name from across the yards. “We need to know how you want some of the things set up.”

“Coming.” He tipped his ball cap slightly. “One more load to get, and that should do it on our end. I’ll be happy to man the grill when we get back.”

“I am delighted to accept the offer.”

“Good.”

He jogged back to his place.

He’d hurried over there to clear the air over Thursday’s meeting. She’d lost an important battle, one that meant she’d be facing angry vendors at the upcoming holiday festival. The out-of-town vendors had paid a significant fee to contract their space on the grounds of the historic Gallagher farm at the edge of town. They weren’t expecting to have local buses transporting their shoppers downtown every fifteen minutes. There would be backlash, mostly directed at Corinne because she headed the committee. It wasn’t her fault, and he felt bad about that. He’d sided with the local businesses from a practical angle. Putting Corinne in the crosshairs hadn’t been the intention, but it was a probable outcome.

Would she hold a grudge?

He hoped not, but her guarded nature didn’t make her an easy read.

“Coach, I can’t wait for you to see how many fish there are in the lake! Grandpa showed me so many hot spots, it’s amazing! Do you like perch and bass?” Tee grabbed his hand in an excited grip as he crossed the yard.

He loved both. He nodded as the old weight redescended.

“Then maybe we can go fishing sometime together,” Tee exclaimed. “I can ask Mom, I bet she won’t mind, and I won’t be noisy. I know not to be noisy on the boat, because Grandpa threatened to toss me overboard if I scared the fish. And I love eating fish, so why would I scare them?”

She talked at light speed, like Gracie had.

Her hands danced in the air, alive with excitement.

Her eyes so blue.

Gracie’s had been a lighter shade of blue, tinged green, but with that same kind of sparkle and joy.

Gone.

His heart choked.

So did his voice, because he couldn’t form a word around the massive lump clogging his throat.

He’d thought it would get better in time, and it had, but when he was around Tee Gallagher and her crew of funny, adolescent girlfriends, all he could think of was how sweetly Gracie would have fit into their crowd. Laughing, dancing, climbing...

“Come with me.” Susie MacIntosh thrust her arm through his and propelled him into the house. “Focus on the simple and the mundane.”

Susie had known him all those years ago, years before they both moved upstate to Grace Haven.

“You’ve got to forgive yourself, Gabe. God doesn’t want you to spend your life beating yourself up. He wants you whole and happy again.”

Susie’s opinion was similar to the reverend’s talk last Sunday.

And maybe it would have worked out that way, if Elise had been okay. But she wasn’t all right, ever again. Then she was gone, too.

“We make choices, Gabe. All of us. You, me, Mack. Elise.”

He couldn’t listen to this, because there was no way he could lay any of this on Elise. He’d left the door of the SUV slightly open. He must have. He was the last person in it. He’d pulled into his buddy’s driveway and parked. Then he’d gotten Gracie out of her car seat and walked into the broad backyard of Jim Clayton, another state trooper.

He was the designated driver, so he grabbed some cold iced tea and talked NFL prospects, waiting for the four o’clock kickoff in Jim’s man cave–style barn toward the back of the property.

And then came the scream.

Nine years later, he still heard the scream.

Elise’s voice, screaming his name, screaming for help, and Gracie Lynn, their beautiful little girl, lying so still in the grueling heat of the SUV.

Her death was ruled accidental, but he knew better. He was her father. She was his responsibility, and he’d failed her over football stats and arguments about team superiority. All while his baby girl lay perishing in the unyielding temperatures of an SUV parked beneath a brilliant September sun.

No, there were no second chances for stupid fathers.

God was big enough to forgive because he was God.

But Gabe was a mere man, and there was no way on this earth he could forgive himself. And that was that.

Chapter Three

The group of young movers crossed from Gabe’s yard into hers when the final load had been brought and distributed, but Corinne’s heart went into overdrive as the tall, square-shouldered policeman followed in their wake. Gabe Cutler, chatting with “Mack” MacIntosh, another local trooper.

“Mom, we’re going to check out the cove, okay?” Callan and five of his teammates got to her first.

“No swimming,” she reminded them. “It’s too cold for that.”

“No swimming. But we might throw Tee into the water, just because she’s a pest.”

Tee pretended innocence, but Corinne knew the truth. Tee was a hoot, but she could be a pain in the neck to her big brother, and no way did she want the twelve-year-old hanging out with fourteen- and fifteen-year-old boys. “I’m keeping Tee here to help me. You guys did all the heavy lifting. We’re doing food.”

“Mom.” Tee folded her arms and scowled. “Girls don’t have to stay home and cook while the brave hunter goes in search of food anymore. We can actually do things, just like they can. It’s called the new millennium.” She hooked her thumb toward the teenage ballplayers, heading for the cove up the beach. “I could have helped move things. And I should be able to go to the cove. I’m twelve.”

“I know how old you are. I was present at your birth, remember?”

But Tee saw nothing amusing in her reply. “We’ve got food ready, and everything’s done. Why can’t I go?”

What could she say? That she wasn’t sure the boys’ conversations would be okay for Tee’s ears? And that Callan deserved some time away from his nosy little sister?

The boys were good kids, but they were hormone-struck teens, and she wasn’t ready to have to deal with Tee and crushes and heartbreaks. Why had the idea of kids spaced so close together appealed to her a dozen years ago?

Oh, that’s right.

Because she didn’t know any better.

Tee huffed into the house as Gabe, Susie and Mack climbed the short steps on one side while the boys raced across the short stretch of open beach. “They did a great job today.”

“I’m so glad.” She opened the grill, judged it ready and pointed out the grilling tools hanging from a head-high two-by-four. “Tools of the trade. And the meat is in the cooler. Where’s Tucker?”

“I put him in the house. He’ll need to get a feel for his boundaries, so for now he’s napping on the floor. Or staring at us through the sliding glass doors, which seems to be more accurate at the moment.”

They all turned. The black, brown and white dog peered at them through the glass, tongue lolling, hoping they’d notice.