Her Sister's Children. Roxanne Rustand

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Her Sister's Children - Roxanne  Rustand


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with muddy boots would have been a welcome sight. Her cold-numbed fingers fumbled over the last number. Punching the reset button, she redialed with a vengeance.

      Annie and Lissa sat at the claw-foot oak table, their milk and chocolate-chip cookies untouched and their faces reflecting her own concern. Jason had never been out past nightfall. The forest and shoreline were dangerous in the dark. One false step—

      “Hello?” Claire gripped the phone tighter.

      A sharp rap at the door jerked her attention away from the receiver. Jason? With a prayer on her lips, Claire dropped the phone, raced across the room and flung open the door.

      Omigod

      A gray-haired officer stood there, short and rumpled, with a belly the size of Hennepin County and a glaze of exhaustion in his eyes. After surveying the room, his gaze snapped back to Claire. “Dep-pity Miller, ma‘am. Anyone missin’ a boy?”

      Measured footsteps crossed the porch behind him. It was Logan, holding a limp figure in his arms. Jason—his eyes half-closed, his skin pale as flour—wrapped in a red plaid blanket.

      Claire’s heart faltered, then picked up a rapid cadence that made the room spin. She sprinted out onto the porch. Her hands flew lightly over Jason’s arms and legs. “Dear God, is he all right?”

      “Hold on. You’re going to embarrass the kid to death.” Brushing her aside, Logan strode into the kitchen, then lowered Jason into a high-backed chair between the twins. He kept a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulder.

      Crimson flooded Jason’s cheeks when he saw the five pairs of eyes trained on his face.

      “He’s fine, ma‘am, just a bump on the head and a sore ankle.” The deputy gave Jason a hard look. “Been trespassin’, I hear.”

      Logan looked up at Claire as though she were barely worth feeding to the seagulls, but the steely glint in his eyes faded when he finally spoke. “The shore by my place isn’t safe—”

      “People come up here, and have no idea of the dangers. Think they can just let their kids run,” the deputy cut in. “The shore is no playground for unattended youngsters.”

      Logan scowled at the deputy. “I think Mrs.... Miss...Ms. Worth must realize that by now.”

      Surprised and thankful for his support, Claire ignored the veiled rebuke in Logan’s tone. “I had no idea that he would go roaming like that.” She pulled an afghan from the back of the chair and smoothed it around Jason’s shoulders, then took his cold hands in hers and bent down to search his face. “Honey, why were you over there? I’ve been worried sick!”

      When Jason tipped his head and didn’t answer, Logan silently dropped his hands back onto the boy’s shoulders. The gesture of masculine support touched Claire’s heart. “He seems so groggy. What happened? Was he unconscious?”

      From behind her, she heard the deputy’s impatient snort. “Sounds like he might have fainted, and then bumped his head when he fell, but he’s been plenty alert. Couldn’t get a word out of him, though.”

      “He must have been scared,” Claire protested, eyeing Jason’s pale face with concern. “We’re taking you to the hospital, honey.” She wanted to hug him fiercely, but knew he would jerk away. Tears prickled behind her eyelids.

      Angling her face to hide her emotions, she moved to the sink, where she filled a measuring cup with water, then set it in the microwave to heat. After he had a hot cup of cocoa and a deep, warm bath, she would take him to the emergency room to check out his bumps and bruises. Maybe he would talk to her after the men left.

      She spoke without turning around. “I can’t thank you two enough for bringing him home.”

      “You’re damn lucky he made it back,” Logan said sharply. “Some of those cliffs drop a hundred feet, and in heavy rain it’s hard to see out there.”

      Claire glanced at him in surprise. He’d defended her against the deputy, yet now he echoed the man’s criticism?

      She lifted a box of instant cocoa from the cupboard, hesitating just long enough to temper her reply. “I’m deeply grateful for your help, believe me.”

      She opened a packet with a sharp jerk that sent a puff of cocoa mix into the air. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

      “No thanks.” Logan said, giving Jason’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You okay now, kid?”

      Jason jerked his head in assent.

      “Then I’ll be—”

      “Coffee would be nice, ma’am, it’s a long way back to town,” the deputy interrupted. He dragged two chairs away from the kitchen table. “Good to meet the new neighbors. Right, Matthews?”

      A low growl rumbled from beneath the table. Gilbert rose from his spot at Jason’s feet, his teeth bared.

      The deputy sidestepped, taking the chair farthest away. “Uh...nice pooch, there. You’ll need a good watchdog out here.”

      Logan raised an eyebrow as he took the chair next to Jason. “High crime rate?”

      “Nope, but off-season we’re down to the sheriff and me, and this is a mighty big county.”

      Logan frowned. “So response times...”

      “Depends on the circumstances. If we’re at the far end of the county, could be an hour or more. Otherwise, maybe twenty minutes.” Miller shrugged. “Population can’t support a larger staff, but usually there isn’t much going on.”

      Claire suppressed a shudder. An hour? Coming from New York, she had no problem imagining a few dozen frightening scenarios as she finished preparing Jason’s cocoa and then offered a tray of coffee and fresh ginger cookies to the men. “Cream or sugar?”

      The deputy creamed his coffee to a pale tan. “How do you all like it here?” He rocked back in his chair and took a long swallow.

      Annie tore her gaze from the man’s badge and straining shirt buttons. “I’m scared of bears. We got a nice man next door, though.”

      She extended one sticky finger toward Logan, nearly poking his arm. He looked down in surprise and she grinned back at him, her eyes sparkling. “You brung Jason home.”

      A muscle jerked in Logan’s cheek. “Yes—well—he shouldn’t be out with a storm brewing.”

      Watching Logan’s sudden discomfort, Claire wondered what he’d been up to all these years. It didn’t appear he’d had many conversations with children. Especially children who looked at him with such total admiration.

      Years ago, had she looked at him that way herself? He’d been just twenty-two or so at the time, and as an awestruck fourteen-year-old she’d thought him handsome and wonderfully mature.

      The deputy cleared his throat. “I’ll check up on you now and then.” Folding his hands across his belly, he gave Claire a broad I’m-your-guy wink. “You never know what’s out in them woods.”

      She had no interest in any relationships right now—especially with an elderly deputy who eyed her like his favorite dessert. “Mr.—”

      “Wayne, ma’am.”

      “Thanks, but we’ll be fine.”

      He twitched, patted his hip pocket. “Pager just buzzed me. Gotta go.”

      Logan lifted his cup a notch higher in farewell. “Pine Cliff is safe tonight,” he murmured as the screen door slammed. “In town, I heard the county deputy was in an accident. Miller’s retired, but the sheriff brought him back for a few weeks.”

      She gave him a dry look. “That isn’t very reassuring.”

      “No one seems too concerned. The off-season population up here is really sparse.”

      Fingering the


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