Carlie looked annoyed. “Actually, James Connor paid top dollar, donated a boatload of money to the town and allowed residents to live in their homes rent-free for five years. He didn’t buy the property for profit. He did it to preserve history and help Glimmer Creek get through the Depression. Personally, I don’t think the town was properly grateful—they called it Connor’s Folly for decades.”
“Oh.”
“Why did you assume he was out for himself?” she asked.
Luke made a noncommittal gesture, though he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t questioned people’s motives. Growing up, he’d seen too many people taking advantage of others, his parents included. It had made him determined to make a different life and to take care of his sister. Nicole kept saying she needed to take care of herself, but that was nonsense. She was independent. While he’d paid for her college expenses and given her a job, she worked hard and was a terrific computer specialist, in her own right. Nobody could accuse her of being a freeloader.
* * *
CARLIE UNLOCKED HER private office. It was quiet in this part of the building; on such a busy day all available staff members were out, handling various responsibilities.
“Just put your bags on my desk,” she told the twins, who’d gone instantly to look at the decorated tree in the corner, seeming to forget everything else.
The branches were adorned with white lights, delicate crystal icicles and the wild-animal ornaments she’d collected since she was a little girl. Raccoons, squirrels, mountain lions, rabbits, foxes, birds of every variety, mice, deer and other animals adorned the branches and she loved them all. They sat on beds of “snow” as if in their mountain home.
“It’s the bestest tree ever,” Annie said solemnly.
Beth nodded, but Carlie suspected she normally preferred something flashier. That was okay. Sometimes Carlie enjoyed flashy, too, though they tried to keep the decorations at Poppy Gold restrained.
Perhaps the girls would like to have a Christmas tree in their bedroom. Actually, two trees. They could do the decorating and make them as individual as they liked. She scribbled a note and put it on her computer monitor, not wanting to mention it to Luke until she’d collected a selection of ornaments that reflected both Annie’s and Beth’s apparent tastes.
It wasn’t in her job description, of course, which was mostly to entertain the guests. Decorating wasn’t an “activity” like scavenger hunts and hayride parties, but Tessa gave her a lot of leeway. If Carlie saw a way to enhance a guest’s visit, she could act on it without getting permission.
“These must be your parents,” Luke said, looking at a framed photo on the wall, taken shortly before her father’s accident. In it, he was hale and hearty, and looked half the age he did now.
“Yes. Shall we go to the sledding hill?” Carlie prompted.
“Sure.”
When they arrived, she was pleased to see the snowmaking machines were still running and the guys in parkas and heavy gloves were out grooming the slope. A line of kids, both young and old, were queuing at the top in anticipation. There were so many, in fact, that Carlie excused herself to go talk with her uncle about creating a separate snow field for making snowmen.
“Splendid idea,” Uncle Liam said enthusiastically. “We’ve got more than enough snow for sledding today. The water hoses are long enough. We’ll just move the snowmakers over to the open area and hope it stays cold enough for a couple of hours.”
The snowmakers were shifted and Carlie called to see if the local grocery store could deliver a rush order of carrots, prunes and other environmentally friendly items for the snowmen’s features. They promised her everything would be there within twenty minutes.
Before long, the overflow of sledding enthusiasts were making snowmen and women, including Beth and Annie.
“This is what I meant by spontaneous,” Carlie told Luke as she brushed snow from her hair after a trek through the wide circle of snowmakers. While she was trying to sound innocent, a part of her was smug that he’d been present for one of the impromptu events. “Why don’t you help Beth and Annie build their snow person?”
“They probably want to do it alone.”
“Why wouldn’t they want their father to help?”
A mix of emotions flitted across his face. “No reason, I suppose.”
* * *
LUKE APPROACHED HIS DAUGHTERS. It was difficult to acknowledge, even to himself, but he didn’t know if they wanted him around. They were unusually self-sufficient for their age. The evening before he’d asked if they needed help getting ready for bed or for him to read a story, but they’d refused. And that morning they were already dressed and playing a game by the time he came out of his bedroom.
Snow was still shooting out from the machines and the girls were enjoying the artificial blizzard. Annie kept putting her head back and letting the flakes settle on her closed eyelids, while Beth danced around, trying to catch them in her mittens.
The thought flitted through his head that he could have tried renting a ski lodge in Tahoe or somewhere else for the holidays, but he shook it away. They were at Poppy Gold, and though the place wasn’t what he’d expected, it could work out. With that thought, he glanced at Carlie, who was setting out piles of fruits and vegetables for everyone to use creating the snow people’s features. Surely she would become less important to the girls once Nicole arrived.
“Sorry, everyone,” an older man called from the opposite side after another hour. He was the same man who’d signaled for the snowmaking machines to be turned on the night before. “The temperature is starting to rise. We have to shut everything down.”
Almost immediately, silence descended, followed by good-natured groans. Beth stuck out her lip in an undeniable pout and even Annie seemed a bit sulky.
“Okay, let’s build that snowman,” Luke said to them, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I haven’t made one since I was your age.”
He began gathering snow into a mound when Beth fixed him with a stern gaze that reminded him of Erika. “Papa, you have to roll it around. See?” She and Annie demonstrated, rolling a small ball of snow around the white ground. It picked up layers, slowly becoming larger.
“And we’re building a snow girl, not a snowman,” Annie added.
“Oh.” He hid a smile. “I’m glad you told me.”
* * *
BEFORE GIDEON RETURNED to Poppy Gold, he took the divorce decree upstairs to his apartment, glad it had come on a Saturday when the office was closed. Until things settled down more, he was living in one of the two apartments above the clinic. He’d finally gotten a post office box for his personal mail, but he must have forgotten to update his address with the court and his lawyer in Los Angeles.
Intentionally?
He considered the possibility and then shook his head. The divorce bothered him, but it was for the best. He and his ex-wife had never valued the same things and it was hard to base a marriage on such a poor foundation. In their last argument,
