mind, what had she been doing beforehand, that sort of thing.”
Exactly what Lily didn’t want to talk about, couldn’t bear to talk about. “I think I hear your girls,” she said desperately, standing up.
“Is there something I should know?” Carson stood, too, and stepped closer.
“No.” He most definitely shouldn’t know what had happened. It would only add to his unhappiness. “No, there’s nothing you should know. I’ll be outside.” She spun and hurried toward the door.
Why had she done that? Now he would know there was something she wasn’t saying. It would be so great to be a good liar, to be able to smile and tell Carson that Pam had spent her last moments thinking of him and her girls. That she’d been happy and content until the horrible accident had happened.
But Lily was a bad liar, and the pretty version was far from the truth.
She pushed open the door and walked out into a sunset world of cold and whirling snowflakes.
* * *
Almost an hour later, after a neck-tensing drive to the ranch in whiteout conditions, Carson gratefully pulled his truck into the driveway between Cabin Four and Cabin Five. He got out and came around to find Lily already opening the door for the girls.
“Yay! Snow!” Sunny called. “C’mon, Skye!”
But Skye was clinging to Lily’s gloved hand. “Can you come in our cabin? We put out food for Santa every year.”
Worry stabbed at Carson. Skye seemed to already be getting overly attached to Lily.
Lily smiled down at Skye. “That’s such a nice offer, but I’d better not,” she said without offering an excuse. “Run and see if you can catch a snowflake on your tongue!”
Distracted, Skye danced toward her sister, tongue out.
Carson handed Lily her package from the hardware store. “Let’s finish our conversation later, or tomorrow,” he said, by way of warning her that their talk wasn’t over.
She’d obviously not wanted to discuss Pam, and possible reasons why were driving Carson crazy. Pam had been high-strung and intense, not without her problems and issues. Lily might know something about Pam’s death, or her last days, that would shed some light.
Had she also known that Pam was pregnant again?
Even the thought of it stabbed at his heart. Carson had begged her not to go back into the army, to stay home instead. She could have easily gotten a discharge or at least a desk job. But she’d refused. She’d loved the excitement of being overseas. She’d said she wanted one last adventure before she really settled down.
The strong implication being settled down with her boring old husband.
But she’d promised to be careful and to tell her commanding officers about the pregnancy, and she’d assured him she wouldn’t be assigned to any dangerous missions.
So how was it that she’d died from enemy fire?
The loss he’d faced had been double: his wife and his unborn child. To get over it, to move forward with his life, he needed more information, and the army’s official materials hadn’t satisfied him.
“Thanks for the ride,” Lily said. She headed toward her cabin, then turned back. “Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you.” He watched her walk, straight-backed and lonely-looking, toward her cabin to spend the rest of Christmas Eve, and Christmas, alone.
He guessed people might feel sorry for him, too, but at least he had his girls. A true blessing.
“Daddy! Come here!” The twins were jumping up and down on the cabin’s porch, and Carson hurried to them, concerned that even their slight weight would cause the old porch to cave in.
But when he got there, the porch was sturdy and intact, and the twins waved a large red envelope.
“Read it, Daddy, read it!” Sunny said.
He opened the envelope and read, in shaky handwriting: You are cordially invited to a Christmas Eve dinner in Cabin 1. Banjo music included.
He chuckled. He’d planned to serve the girls canned soup and grilled cheese tonight, waiting until tomorrow to attempt to cook the turkey and potatoes he’d bought, but a real, full dinner would be far preferable. And behind the cheerful wording of the invitation was the obvious: Long John wanted the company.
“What does it say?” Skye asked.
He knelt and read it to the girls, earning squeals of excitement.
“Let’s put our things away first,” he said, “and then we’ll head down to see Mr. Long John.”
“Let’s go now!” Sunny held up the package containing the ornaments they’d bought at the hardware store. “Because Mr. Long John doesn’t have any decorations for his tree, and we can put ours on it.”
“Good idea.” There was no point in getting the girls out of their coats just to put them on again. He stowed the rock salt he’d bought on the cabin’s porch and followed the girls through the snow to Long John’s cabin.
As they climbed the porch steps, there was a rustling sound behind them, and Carson turned and saw Lily approaching, carrying a big shopping bag.
“Yay! He invited you, too!” Sunny jumped up and down.
Carson’s heart picked up its pace. Not because of her slender figure and pretty, flushed cheeks, he told himself sternly. Only because he saw the possibility of having his talk with her sooner than he’d expected.
Long John opened the door, and his weathered face broke into a big smile. “What do you know, Rockette, we’ve got company!”
The dog lumbered to her feet, let out a deep “woof” and nudged at the twins, making them giggle.
Lily smiled down at the scene. “Dogs are such a gift. They make everyone happy.”
“You folks didn’t need to bring anything,” Long John said as he ushered them into his cabin. “I mean this to be my treat, and a chance for you to relax. Come on, hang your coats right on that rack.”
Carson turned to help the twins with their jackets and saw that Lily was already unzipping Skye’s. He helped Sunny out of hers. Convenient. Two girls, two adults.
“We brought things to decorate your tree!” Sunny cried, twisting free of her jacket and hurtling over to the bag they’d brought. “See, look, there’s orderments!”
“Ornaments, right, Daddy?” Skye asked.
“Why, they’re right pretty,” Long John interrupted with a wink at Carson. “But I would hate to use up the decorations you planned to put on your own tree.”
“Go for it,” Carson said, at the same time that Skye said, “It’s okay.” Both girls hurried over to Long John’s waist-high, potted Norfolk Island pine.
