Dear Reader
Coming home had never been so bittersweet.
Lacie Collier tapped her brakes at the Ouray city limit sign, observing the snowcapped mountains that closed in around her. Okay, so her trip home in February for her sister’s funeral ranked right up there, too. But this was different.
She glimpsed the brown-eyed little girl in her rearview mirror. The last nine months had been quite an adjustment period for both her and Kenzie. And while her niece seemed to finally be adapting to life without her mother, Lacie was still struggling to balance motherhood and work. Or was anyway, until her employer decided the addition of a child was too distracting and let Lacie go.
Her heart ached as she approached the hot springs pool. She’d wanted so badly to make this the best Christmas ever for Kenzie. Now they didn’t even have a home.
Still, God had a plan, of that she was certain. She just wished He’d give her some clue as to what lay ahead.
“Are we there yet?” Poor Kenzie. They’d spent the last five-plus hours driving across Colorado. A trip Lacie never relished, but throw a four-year-old into the mix and it became an even greater challenge.
“Almost, sweetie. We’ll be at Grandma’s in just a few more minutes.” She knew the kid was eager to break free of the booster seat that held her captive.
Past the park, Main Street greeted them with all of its intimate charm. To the unsuspecting traveler, Ouray was simply a slowdown on their journey along Highway 550, but to those who had taken the time to stop, it was a treasure trove of everything from arts to adventure, four-wheeling to hiking, ice climbing to hot springs.
She slowed the car to almost a crawl, taking in the Victorian-era buildings and the sidewalks bustling with activity. Though it was only the Saturday before Thanksgiving, the town was already decked out for Christmas. Giant lighted snowflakes and evergreen garlands adorned every light post, stores sparkled with holiday-themed window displays, and twinkling lights were everywhere you looked. Everywhere except Barbara Collier’s house. Because her mom didn’t do Christmas.
She let go a frustrated sigh. How was she ever going to make this Christmas special for Kenzie?
A squeal erupted from the back seat.
Lacie’s gaze instantly jerked to her niece and the toy-filled back seat. “What’s wrong?”
“My drink,” Kenzie whined, her light-up shoes flickering with each and every kick of her suddenly wet legging-clad legs.
“Oh, no.” Lacie grabbed the wad of fast-food napkins from the passenger seat. “Did you spill?” With one hand still on the steering wheel, she tried in vain to blot the little girl’s legs.
Kenzie merely nodded, her bottom lip pooched out.
Still attempting to console the child, Lacie glanced at the road in front of her, sympathy instantaneously morphing into horror as a pedestrian dodged out of her way.
With a loud gasp, she slammed on the brakes, her seat belt tightening in protest.
Kenzie cried in earnest now as Lacie put the vehicle into Park and fumbled to release her restraint. Her heart thudding, she pushed her door open, the cold air slapping her in the face as she rushed toward the gray-haired woman. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, young lady.” Aged green eyes narrowed
