- Home
- Leigh Bale
His Amish Choice Page 19
His Amish Choice Read online
Page 19
“Long John!” Both girls spilled out of the truck and ran to hug the older gentleman, carefully, as they’d been taught. “We have a present for you,” Skye added.
“It’s a—” Just in time, Sunny slapped a hand over her own mouth.
“I might have a little something for you two girls as well.” Long John reached a shaky hand down to pat Skye’s head, then Sunny’s.
“I’m going to pull the truck down to Cabin Five so we can unload,” Carson said. “Girls, hop back in.”
“But we want to go pet Rockette,” Skye complained.
“And see Mr. Long John’s Christmas tree,” Sunny added, then looked up at the older man, her forehead wrinkling. “Do you have a Christmas tree?”
“If you don’t,” Skye said, “you can come see ours, when we get it set up.”
“Maybe you can come help!” Sunny suggested. “Daddy, can he?”
“I’m fine. I’ve got a little Norfolk Island pine in a pot.” Long John chuckled at the girls’ enthusiasm and waved Carson toward the row of cabins. “Go ahead, get unpacked and settled. I’ll entertain these two for half an hour, maybe fix ’em some hot chocolate.”
“Can we, Daddy?” Skye pleaded.
Carson drew in a breath to say no, not wanting to put Long John to the trouble, but just in time, he caught the eagerness in the older man’s eyes. Long John didn’t have any kids or grandkids of his own, and his worsening Parkinson’s disease made it difficult for him to get out.
He glanced over at Long John’s cabin and noticed an accessibility ramp in front, its raw, light-colored wood a contrast to the old cabin’s dark hue. That was new.
“You girls can visit,” he said. “But behave and do what Mr. Long John says.”
“Yay!” Sunny ran toward Long John’s cabin.
“Wait!” Skye called sharply after her twin. She walked beside Long John at a sedate pace, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Carson had noticed her considerate behavior.
He had, of course, and he gave her a thumbs-up. It was such a blessing, these older veterans becoming a part of his girls’ lives. The twins had no local grandparents, but these men filled the gap, just as the girls filled a gap in Long John’s life.
He let the truck glide down the road to Cabin Five. Got out and opened the back hatch...and stopped.
At the cabin next door, kneeling to catch a photo of the sun sinking over the Sangre de Cristos, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Well, the second-most beautiful. He could never forget his wife’s glossy golden hair, her sparkling eyes. He’d never stopped loving her, even through the arguments and the emotional distance and the absences.
He’d never thought he would notice another woman. But he was sure noticing this one.
Was this Penny’s niece? If so...wow.
Clad in worn, snug-fitting jeans and a blue parka, the blonde was focusing so closely on what she was doing that she paid him no attention.
Not that a woman who looked like that would pay someone like him any attention. Pam—popular, fun-loving Pam—had been the amazing exception, the girl a former nerdy weakling would never have expected to attract.
“Daddy!” Sunny’s voice sounded behind him, out of breath and upset.
He turned to see her running toward him, covering the rocky dirt road at breakneck speed. “Slow down, sweetie! What’s wrong?”
“Daddy!” She hurtled into him and bounced back, grabbing his hand. “Mr. Long John is hurt!”
He dropped the bags he was carrying and turned toward Long John’s cabin. “Where’s Skye?”
“She’s sitting with him. Come on!”
Carson ran beside her, their breath making fog clouds in the cold air. He should never have left the girls alone with a man in Long John’s condition, even if he had seemed fine just a few minutes ago.
Running footsteps sounded behind him, then beside. “Which cabin?” the blonde woman asked. She was carrying a large first aid kit, and she lifted it to show him. “I overheard. Might be able to help.”
“First one in the row.” He gestured toward it.
“Daddy... I can’t...run any...more.” Sunny slowed beside him, panting, so he stopped to pick her up as the woman jogged ahead.
Now he could see Long John sitting on the bottom porch step, Skye beside him. The older man was conscious and upright, which was reassuring. When the blonde woman reached him, she knelt, spoke and then started pawing through her first aid kit.
Carson reached the trio a moment later and swung Sunny to the ground. “What’s going on? Everyone okay?”
“I’m taking care of him,” Skye said, patting Long John’s arm.
“That you are, sweetie.” Long John reached as if to put an arm around her and winced.
“I wouldn’t move that arm just now, sir,” the blonde woman said. Something about the cadence of her words spelled military. So this most likely was Penny’s niece.
“Good point.” Long John looked ruefully up at Carson. “I’m okay, it’s just the Parkinson’s getting worse. Affects my balance sometimes. I hit the edge of the porch wrong and went down. Bumped myself up and got a nasty splinter.”
“He was spozed to use the ramp,” Sunny explained, “but he didn’t think he needed it.”
“What’s Parkinson’s?” Skye asked.
“It’s a disease that affects your muscles.” As Long John went on with a simple explanation, Carson breathed a sigh of relief. His girls were okay, and Long John was, too, from the looks of things.
Penny’s niece—Lily, her name was—had Long John’s arm out of his parka and was using tweezers to remove the splinter. Once that was done, she swabbed the older man’s hand with something from a clear bottle.
When she glanced back and saw Carson watching, she frowned and nodded toward the porch. “This porch isn’t in great shape, especially for someone with mobility issues.”
Carson nodded. “They’ve been gradually upgrading their structures here, as money permits. Looks like this place should move to the top of the list.” The struggling ranch was getting back on its feet—they all hoped—but it would take time to recover from the embezzlement it’d suffered earlier this year.
Meanwhile, while Carson was here, he’d try his hand at shoring up Long John’s old porch.
“Good idea.” Lily gave him a brief smile and he sucked in his breath. No woman would ever be as beautiful as Pam, but this one, with her slim figure and short, wavy hair and lively eyes, came close.
Not that he was interested.
And certainly, not that she would be.
Carson focused back in on the conversation among Long John and his daughters.
“Could I get that disease?” Sunny was asking.
“Not likely,” Long John said. “I was in a place called Vietnam, and spent a lot of time around a fancy weed killer called Agent Orange. The doctors think that might be why this happened.” He waved a hand at his body. “But don’t you worry. They don’t use it anymore.”
“I’m sorry.” Skye patted his arm again, and Carson smiled.
A matching smile crossed Lily’s face as she looked at the little girl comforting the old man. “There you go, sir,” she said to Long John. “All patched up.”
“Can I help you get inside?” Carson asked.
“Just a hand to stand up,” Long John said. “Think I’ll take it easy, watch a little TV. Your hot chocolate will have to wait until another day,” he added to the girls.
“That’s okay,” Skye said, and then nudged her twin.
“That’s okay,” Sunny said with considerably less enthusiasm.
Carson helped Long John up on one side while Lily steadied him from the other. Once he was on his feet, he gestured for his walker. “I’ll be fine from here,” he said.
“But we want to see Rocket
te!” Sunny protested.
Bless her. That would give Carson the excuse to make sure Long John was settled inside. “We’ll just visit for a minute,” he said.
So he followed Long John up the ramp, the girls eager behind them, Lily bringing up the rear. Once inside, he stood ready to help the older man into his chair, but it was obviously a move he’d made many times before and he did it smoothly.
The girls joyously patted big, gray-muzzled Rockette, who licked their faces and then flopped to the floor with a big doggy sigh that made them both giggle. They settled down beside the patient old dog, patting her head and marveling over her soft ears.
“Can I make you some coffee?” Carson asked Long John, moving toward the kitchen area, basically one wall of the cabin’s main room. He noticed a single bowl, glass and spoon in the dish drainer.
“Don’t touch the stuff, but thanks.” Long John had the remote in hand, flipping channels.
“You let us know if you need anything.” Carson turned to usher the girls out and realized that Lily wasn’t there. Sometime while he’d been getting Long John settled, she must have slipped away.
Sure enough, when they got outside, he saw her up the road, walking rapidly toward her cabin.
Which probably meant she didn’t want to socialize. Penny had said she was independent.
But he’d promised to reach out to her. He’d get his things unloaded and then pay a little visit, do an informal assessment of his quiet neighbor.
* * *
Lily heard the little girls’ voices from a distance behind her and practically ran up the steps of her cabin. She went inside and shut the door.
Pam’s husband and her twins. Seeing them had tugged her emotions in ways she didn’t expect. Especially those adorable, energetic little girls who were the image of their mother.
What a family Pam could have had...if only she’d survived.
But Lily needed to focus on the future rather than wallowing in regret. She needed to gather her strength and find out if Carson was, in fact, an abusive bully. The least she could do for Pam, since she couldn’t turn back the clock and change what had happened, was to check on her children and make sure they were okay.
They’d seemed more than okay, but appearances could be deceiving.
She went to the window and watched as the man and the little blonde twins carried things into the cabin next door.
Hearing the laughter of the children, punctuated by some booming laughs from him, made loneliness squeeze Lily’s stomach, but she straightened her back and drew in the deep, cleansing breath she’d learned about from her army therapist. She deserved to be lonely.
Because the father-daughter fun outside didn’t make up for what was missing from the picture: a mom. Beautiful, mysterious Pam, who hadn’t gotten to spend nearly enough time with her husband and kids in the years before her death.
Don’t dwell on what you can’t change. Lily looked away from the trio’s good spirits toward Long John’s cabin. She’d seen the undecorated Christmas tree, the single strand of lights around the porch railing, the pizza box beside the trash can. All of it spoke of a man alone, and Long John wasn’t in such good shape.
Having a trained medic—her—up here over the holidays, when the older man was likely to be cut off from his support system, might be a blessing. Something God had planned. It was another way Lily could make up for her past.
When she looked back at the little twins, they were building something out of rocks, possibly a house for the bright collection of toys on the ground. Normally, she didn’t understand kids—they were aliens to her. But these girls’ serious, intent faces made her smile. They were focused on fun, just as kids should be.
Fun. It wasn’t something she’d thought a lot about. No time. She’d joined the army at eighteen, gotten trained as a medic and then a combat photographer, done pretty well for a poor girl from a rough background. After that, college on the GI Bill at an accelerated pace.
Everyone told her to slow down, but she didn’t want to. Slowing down gave her the time to think.
It wasn’t until she heard the knock on the door that she realized the girls’ father was nowhere in sight.
As she went to answer a second knock, she glanced through the window.
Carson Blair stood on her front porch. Her heart thumped, and she inhaled a bracing breath. She’d wanted to investigate the man, to make sure he was treating Pam’s girls well.
It looked like the opportunity had just fallen into her lap.
Copyright © 2018 by Lee Tobin McClain
ISBN-13: 9781488090844
His Amish Choice
Copyright © 2018 by Lora Lee Bale
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com