Sherri Shackelford

A Family For The Holidays


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out in the open. “And we don’t even know if Emil is dead. He’s missing. There’s a difference.”

      A myriad of emotions flitted across her face, a hint of sorrow and something more—a touch of anger. “People don’t just go missing. Either they disappear because they want to, or something bad has happened to them.”

      “I’m trying to help you, Lily. If Vic is attempting to turn your suspicions on me, there must be a reason.” Jake didn’t have much time. If Lily was here, the sheriff wasn’t far behind. He searched their surroundings and strained his ears, hearing only the scuffling of a mouse scurrying along the walls. “Don’t you find something odd about this place?”

      “I don’t follow.”

      “Isn’t it curious that there’s no lumber in the lumber mill? According to town gossip, the Frozen Oaks lumber mill once did a thriving business.”

      She tipped back her head and gazed at the empty rafters. “Not anymore.”

      “Precisely, Miss Winter. The lumberyard is empty. The hotel rarely has guests, and there’s room in the livery for plenty of horses. That doesn’t bode well for Mr. Skaar.”

      “Why the sudden interest in Vic?”

      “I’m trying to warn you. Don’t be fooled by Vic. There are things about him you don’t know.”

      “I’m done waiting. Those children deserve answers. Someone around here knows something. You’re the obvious suspect.”

      Jake grappled with his own frustrations. He’d been too slow in acting. He’d only become concerned with Emil’s absence when the boys had arrived unannounced on the same day Vic had become a housebreaker. But if Vic had already dispatched Emil to erase his gambling debt, what was his interest in the grandchildren?

      “I know you’re afraid,” he said. “I’m only interested in Sam and Peter’s safety, and yours, as well.”

      She raised the gun above her head and wiped her forehead on her shoulder. Dust motes swirled in the dim shaft of light streaking through a gap in the paneling.

      He took a step forward and she scurried back. “I’m warning you. You better not try anything, mister. If the sheriff is following me like you say, he’ll be here soon.”

      “Where’d you get the weapon?” he asked.

      She raised her chin a notch. “That’s none of your concern.”

      “Have you ever fired a gun before?”

      “I can pull a trigger.”

      His stomach pitched. There was nothing more dangerous than a greenhorn with a pistol. “Fair enough. But I think you need a little practice. You’re lining up your shot by the notch at the end of the barrel.”

      “Isn’t that how you’re supposed to line up the shot?”

      “There are actually two points that line up. When you squeeze the trigger, squeeze slowly. The kickback will pull your shot off target.”

      “Yes.”

      “Yes what?”

      “You asked me before if I’d noticed anything odd about the people living in Frozen Oaks. My answer is yes. Regina fawns all over Vic, even though I don’t think she truly likes him very much. The sheriff is more interested in discovering a straight flush than in trying to figure out why one of his local residents has gone missing. The strangest of all? The local gun for hire is teaching me to fire a weapon. While I’m pointing a gun at him.”

      “Trust me, Miss Winter. I’m looking out for your best interest.”

      “Trust you? How can I trust anyone? I have two young children who deserve a home. They deserve a family. Someone around here must know something. If you don’t start talking, I’m going to start shooting.” She raised her eyes heavenward. “Don’t worry, I’ll line up both sights.”

      “You won’t shoot a defenseless man.”

      “No. But then, you’re not a defenseless man, are you?”

      She wasn’t nearly as tough as she appeared. He’d conned his way through enough situations to recognize the signs. If the boys were in danger, she’d shoot. Without that incentive, he doubted she had the nerve. He only had to prevent her from accidentally firing the weapon until he regained control of the situation.

      “I’ll tell you what I know.” He lowered his hands. “Rumor has it that Vic lost money to Emil in a poker game. A lot of money.”

      “Vic has money to burn. How much could he lose to a kindly old grandfather?”

      “You’ve never met Emil, have you?”

      A lock of her straw-colored hair drifted across her cornflower blue eyes. “If you didn’t kill Emil, where is he?” She blew a breath, fluttering the strands aside. “Do you know what happened to him?”

      “No, I don’t. But I have a few ideas. Some suspicions. Why don’t you put down the gun and we can discuss my thoughts?”

      “Not likely.”

      If only he could simply tell her the truth. At this point, she’d never believe him anyway. This was the part of the job he loathed. After five years of running with thieves, corrupt lawmen and killers, he’d lost his ability for gentlemanly speech. He had no convincing words to soothe her with. And for the first time in his career, he desperately wanted those words.

      He shook off the hesitation.

      She was a distraction. The boys were vulnerable. Nothing more, nothing less. The sooner she left, the better. If the accusation in her melancholy eyes sparked his guilt, that was the price he paid for keeping her and the boys safe.

      He took another step forward and she stumbled back once more.

      “Don’t come any closer.” Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps. “I’m warning you, the sheriff knows all about your interest in the inheritance. He’ll take you to jail. Once we find proof that you’re responsible for Emil’s disappearance, jail is where you’ll stay.”

      An inheritance? The ramifications socked him in the gut. Vic didn’t want to erase his debt, he wanted a new influx of cash. All the pieces instantly made sense: Emil was missing. His grandchildren were the beneficiaries of an inheritance. Lily Winter was the only thing standing between the boys and someone who might take advantage of them.

      He’d underestimated the depths of Vic’s depravity and played right into his hands as the villain of the piece.

      Carefully considering how to regain Lily’s trust, Jake took a cautious step forward. “If the sheriff is on his way, why don’t you give me the gun? Your breathing is too shallow. You’ll faint again if you don’t calm down. We’ll wait for him together.”

      “Don’t patronize me. Stop playing the charming gentleman and go back to being an outlaw.”

      “Lily, we both know the sheriff isn’t coming to your rescue. You can’t hold a gun on me forever. You might as well let me go.” He took a step closer. “There’s another stagecoach this evening. If you’re worried about the boys’ safety, then leave now. Take them far away from here.”

      “Stop treating me like I’m a simpleton.” Her gaze darted around the cavernous warehouse and landed on him once more. “You must have a reason for wanting me on that stage.”

      “You’re not a simpleton. You’re right to be cautious. But you’ve stumbled into the middle of a dangerous situation. I don’t want you hurt.”

      Her stance lifted the floodgates on his past once more. She’d put herself in harm’s way for the boys unless he prevented her.

      “I don’t understand you.” Lily’s arms sagged and the barrel of the heavy gun tipped down. “Why didn’t you take the boys when I fainted?”