Macie! The wind snatched his voice. Snow beat against his coat hood, drowning out all other sounds. Blindly, he swiped snow off his face, noticing the scoop mark in the snow from a child-size mitten. No need to panic. Sunshine, Wyoming, was a safe place for kids, not like Chicago where hed grown up. She had to be around here somewhere.
Macie! He tried again. Still no answer, at least none that he could hear in the rising storm. Not that she wouldnt be easy to find. Just follow the trail.
Her boots cut a visible path into the snow and darkness, roughly heading toward the parking lot. If shed wanted to leave, she could have just told him. Frustrated, he fisted his hands, teeth chattering in the cold. His daughter was grieving, too. It wasnt easy for him to deal with emotions. Diana, when shed been alive, had told him that often enough. He feared that made him a terrible father.
A flash of pink penetrated the swirling snow. Macies coat. What was she doing on the ground and why was someone kneeling over her? He took one look at the bulky navy coat bending over his fallen daughter and the worst thoughts leaped into his mind. Protective fury roared through him. He grew ten feet and his fist closed around the navy coat wearer.
Get away from her. He hauled the kidnapper to his feet. No oneno onewas going to hurt his daughter.
Hey! Let go of me. A rather bossy woman yanked her arm out of his grip. Whats wrong with you, buddy?
A woman? He blinked, the scene coming clear to him. His daughter sitting up, cradling her arm. Macie was hurt. Tears stood in her eyes. Was it this womans fault? What are you I mean, who are you? Whats going on here? he boomed.
You must be Macies dad. Good thing you came along. Awesome, right, Macie? She cast him a quelling look and he felt like an idiot grabbing her like that. The girl was lost. Clearly the woman had been trying to help.
Great. Jump to the wrong conclusion, Michael. Just add it to his long list of idiocies around women. The flare of adrenaline crackling through his blood calmed. Now what did he do? Apologize? Explain that he wasnt a terrible father? All he could see was Macie still on the ground, clutching one arm, pale, shivering and obviously hurt.
I fell, Daddy. Her lower lip quivered. It was the curbs fault. Thats what Chelsea said.
Chelsea, huh? He bypassed the woman, catching a glimpse of big blue eyes glaring up at him. Her sweet oval face was framed by a hint of light-chestnut-brown hair and topped with a red hat. He ignored the hitch in his chest that made him want to take better notice of her and knelt in front of his daughter. Macie looked fragile and tiny, and his heart seemed to breakbut that was impossible because as everyone told him, he didnt have a heart. Were you daydreaming again? Telling yourself stories?
Kinda. She winced. The snow could be hiding a princesss castle.
Next time, stay with me, got it? He gentled his voice, although it still came out gruff. Tenderness wasnt his strong suit either.
Macie nodded. Twin tears trailed down her too-white cheeks.
His poor baby. Cmon, lets get you in the car.
No. Chelsea says I need an X-ray. Macie sniffled. You know why I dont like the emergency room, Daddy?
Yeah, he knew. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold in the pain. The past flashed like a mosaicthe receptionist bursting into his office with news of an urgent phone call, the mad dash to emergency, seeing Diana still and slight looking in death. His nurse kept Macie in the waiting room. After hearing the sad news the child had sat utterly still, frozen in a room of chaos.
He opened his eyes. Only a second had passed, but it felt like an eternity. Let me take a look.
No! She jerked away, the movement causing pain. More tears fell. Itll get better. I know it will.
He knew the sound of desperation. He heard it every day in his office, when family members had to face a tough diagnosis. As a specialist, he gave out bad news as a matter of course. Hed had to harden himself so the sadness wouldnt take him down. He had patients to think about, he had to stay uninvolved and rational so he could guide them through a tough and trying time.
He gave thanks that his child was healthy, unlike the others he treated, and wiped at her tears. Come with me, baby.
No! I wont go where Mom died. His beautiful daughter hiccupped, upset by memories, which were hard for him, too.
At a loss, he opened his mouth and closed it. He wasnt cut out to be a single father. He wished he were able to do a better job.
Footsteps crunched in the snow behind him. He felt the womansChelseasglower as she stomped closer. He hadnt noticed shed left, but when he spotted two knit blankets folded up in her arms, it touched him.
She needs to be kept warm. Her blue eyes met his, full of concern, and was that a hint of censure? Or wariness? Her gaze turned kind as she brushed snow off Macies hat. If we leave you out here any longer, you are going to turn into a snowman, well, a snowgirl, and that would be bad because then youd melt away.
Not if I moved to the north pole. Macie hiccupped, in an effort to hold back her pain. I could make a house there.
True. You could live in an igloo. It could be cool. Chelsea rolled her eyes, as if amused by her own pun, and draped one blanket around Macies snowy shoulders. There, now youre ready for transport.
Were going home, right, Dad?
Sorry, baby. Im worried about your arm.
The pain is sharp and radiating. Chelsea rose, clutching one remaining blanket. Theres no tingling or numbness in her fingers. No sign of a compound fracture.
Youre a doctor? It came out gruff and ungrateful-sounding, which isnt what he meant. Not at all.
Thats what they tell me. She glared at him, apparently not willing to share her kindness with him.
Not that he blamed her, grabbing her the way he had. Hed been wrong, but the instinct to protect had been right. Surely she could understand that? Trouble was, he didnt know how to say all that to her. His child was still shivering and in pain, so he gathered her in his arms, keeping his focus where it should be. On his daughter. Her weight in his arms was dear as he stood, cuddling her against his chest. He turned, shielding her from the worst bite of the wind.
Daddy, promise me. Macie pleaded, fragile and small against him, shaking with cold and pain. Not the hospital.
I dont know, baby. Maybe he could think of a solution. The snowstorm worsened, the downfall so thick it hid all signs of the parking lot, but not the woman standing beside him.
Wheres your car? Chelsea in her navy coat said as she forged ahead. This way?
Yes. He squinted to keep her in sight. She walked easily through the whiteout conditions, graceful as the snowfall. There was something about her that was poetic as the night.
Not that he was given to poetry. He fished his keys from his coat pocket, careful not to jostle Macie. She sniffled against him, fighting her tears. Maybe there was a way to avoid the emergency room. He beeped his remote, and the SUVs lights flashed through the veil of storm. Chelsea surprised him by opening the passenger door, holding it against the gusts of wind so he could settle Macie into her seat. He brushed the snow off her the best he could.
Here. Chelsea shook out the second blanket and shouldered past him. He caught a faint scent of vanilla and strawberry. Light-chestnut-brown hair spilled out from beneath her hat as she spread the afghan over his daughter, tucking it snug around her. How does the snowgirl story work out? Does she live happily ever after at the north pole?
Yes. Macie sniffled. Her daddy turns into a snowman so shes not alone.
Sounds like a fantastic story to me. Chelseas smile could light up the darkness. Ill see you around, Macie.
See ya around.
Thanks. He cleared his throat, but the gruffness remained. The womans kindness touched him and drove some of the ice from his heart, on this of all days, the three-year anniversary of his wifes death. The blankets. Ill need to return them.
I live at the end of Wild Rose Lane. It says McKaslin on the mailbox. You cant miss it. Her gentleness vanished when she turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest like a shield.
Yeah, hed made a good impression, all right.
Ill be praying for Macie, that her arm is all right. Chelsea McKaslin stalked away, her boots squeaking in the snow.
Before he could answer, the thick veils closed around her, the shadows claimed her. She was lost to him and he was alone in the storm.
Chapter Two
What a gorgeous morning. Chelsea breathed in the crisp, icy fresh air, stomped the snow off her boots and tromped through the backyard of her familys property. She blinked against the suns bright glare and glanced over her shoulder at the horse barn. For as far as she could see, white fields rolled and preened beneath a pale blue sky. Wow, it was good to be back for keeps.
The frigid air burned her lungs as she trudged toward the door. Slow going through the accumulation, but much easier since the blizzard had stopped. Last nights trek home had been interesting. Drifting snow made it impossible to drive, so shed pulled over on Wild Rose Lane and walked a half mile. Shed nearly turned into a snowman, toowell, a snow-woman. Thinking of Macie, Chelsea smiled to herself as she clomped up the porch steps.
Ha! I saw you coming. The door swung open and Meg, her younger sister by four years, crooked one slim brow. What are you doing up at this hour? You got in so late. You should be sleeping in. Taking advantage of your time off.
What can I say? I needed a horse fix.
I totally get it. Meg braced one slim shoulder against the open door, model-gorgeous with her lean looks, beautiful face and long brown hair. Good news. The county snowplow just finished clearing the road.
Yay. Now I can rescue my car. Her eighteen-year-old Toyota might not be snazzy, but shed gotten attached to it over the years. Shed inherited it from Mom when shed gone off to college. She tromped through the doorway and into the warm house. Do you know what I really need?
Im afraid to ask.
Someone to give me a lift.
Sorry, I cant pick you up. Mischief twinkled in Megs brown eyes before she disappeared into the kitchen. But I can give you a ride.
Really? Isnt it a little early in the morning for puns?
Sorry, couldnt help myself. Sara Beth is rummaging around in the basement. Thought I should warn you.
Okay. Chelsea shouldered the door shut. Sara Beth was sister number two in the McKaslin lineup, Chelseas younger sister by two years. I guess the real question is what shes looking for?
House lights. Were putting them up today. Megs voice echoed from the kitchen, leaving a lot unsaid. This would be the first Christmas they would be stringing up the lights without Mom.
Chelsea swallowed against a tide of emotion and plopped down on the nearby bench. She could do this. She could face this Christmas without Mom. Are you going to hang the dangly icicle ones or the multicolor ones?
Not my call. The person who puts up the lights gets to decide. A clink sounded from the kitchen. I can tell you, it wont be me. Remember what happened when I was on a ladder last?
Was that when you got stuck on the roof?
Putting up the big star, per Moms directions, remember? And it totally wasnt my fault the stupid ladder decided to fall over. I havent trusted one since.
You think the rest of us should?
Sure, as long as it isnt me. A clunk of a stoneware mug being set on the granite counter punctuated her humor. I strung the lights the last time with Dad, if you remember. Sara Beth said shes not partial to ladders, and Johanna is at the vet clinic working with Dad and who knows when they will be back, so that only leaves
Me. Great. She wasnt fond of ladders either. She tugged off her boots. This is what she got for being the oldest and out of town when her sisters were planning Christmas. Why dont we wait for Dad?
Because I think it will be too tough on him to have to do it.
Right. Because hed always put them up for Mom. Boy, this Christmas wasnt going to be easy. She unzipped her barn coat and hung it in the closet. Guess its my turn, then.
I knew youd do it. I kinda think its best to surprise Dad with the decorations, you know, like a new tradition. Now its our turn to put up the lights for him.
I like it. She followed her sisters voice into the kitchen. Bayly, one of their two dogs, opened an eye to watch her enter the room, let his lids fall shut and went back to snoozing on his bed near the family rooms crackling fireplace. But before I do anything, Ive got to fetch my car and I have a few things to do in town.
What things? Meg set a teacup on the breakfast bar. The scents of cinnamon and spices wafted upward on the steam.
Go to the bank. Hit the bookstore. Check up on a few people.
What people? Megs eyes narrowed curiously. That was the problem having so many sisters. No privacy. Plus, sisters tended to be nosy.
Maybe she was missing Seattle after all. She cozied up to the breakfast bar and plopped onto a swivel chair. I came across a little girl and her dad in the cemetery last night. She fell off the curb in the storm and broke her wrist.
Poor little one. Meg set a second cup on the counter. So, tell me. Handsome dad?
I didnt notice.
How could you not notice? Honestly. Meg shook her head with disapproval. Any chance he was a single dad? I keep praying for you to find a really great guy.
He was a widower. That was why he was at the cemetery.
Oh. Meg circled around the kitchen island and took the neighboring chair. How sad for them.
Yeah, she agreed, sipping her tea, remembering Macie. And the father...Dr. Kramer. She ought to really dislike him, she hadnt appreciated the way hed manhandled her, suspecting the worst when shed only been helping his daughter, the child hed let wander away from him. But then, it only took a moment of inattention and if hed been at his deceased wifes grave...her heart twinged with sympathy. Sympathy was one thing, but remembering the way snow had settled on his broad shoulders was entirely another.
Youre praying for me to find someone? Really? She sipped her tea, which warmed her instantly. Even though you know I have a five-year plan?