Holiday in a Stetson: The Sheriff Who Found Christmas / A Rancho Diablo Christmas. Marie Ferrarella
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idea. Instead, she tried to tactfully steer him in what she felt was the better direction.
“Why don’t you bring her back here? This was her home, right?” Lani had done her homework on her silent boss and found out that he had grown up in the vicinity. That meant his sister had, as well. “That way your niece could feel as if her mother’s close by.”
What kind of nonsense was this woman babbling about? “What do you mean, ‘close by’? Her mother’s dead.”
This man had a soul; Lani knew it was in there someplace. Finding it was going to be a huge challenge, but she was suddenly determined to do it. “It’s a state of mind thing. Trust me, having her mother’s grave close by will help her. It did me.” Because Tanner gave her what she took to be a quizzical look, she went on to explain, “My mother died when I was really young. Whenever I was trying to work something out, or feeling particularly upset, it helped having a grave site to go visit. I’d sit there sometimes for an hour, talking to her.”
She loved her father dearly and he had tried to be there for her at all times, but sometimes, it just helped talking things out with her mother. Even if there were no audible answers.
She searched Garrett’s face, trying to see if he understood what she was telling him.
He looked somewhat uncomfortable. “That’s more than I wanted to know.”
“So you say,” Lani replied brightly. She wasn’t buying it for a minute. As she turned to go back to her desk, she heard a world-weary sigh escape from his lips.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought, turning back. “You want me to come with you?” The quizzical expression on his face deepened. “To pick up your niece.”
If he was being totally honest, what he would have wanted was to have her go instead of him, but he couldn’t very well say that. This little girl—Ellie, was it?—was his responsibility, not his gabby deputy’s. Besides, someone had to remain in Booth. That, he assumed, had been part of the town council’s thinking behind hiring a deputy. So that if he was called away, there would still be someone here to watch over the town.
Not that it needed that much watching.
“No,” he muttered. “The council wants someone to be in Booth at all times.”
Humor played along her lips. She’d been in town for six months and in that time, the only “crime” that had come to her attention was that Mrs. Willows had her mailbox knocked over, and that was only because her sister had accidentally backed her car into it and hadn’t owned up to the deed until three days later.
“Lots of people are in Booth at all times,” she pointed out glibly. “I don’t think they’d have anything against the town being ‘sheriffless’ for a couple of days.”
He frowned. “I’m not interested in your opinions,” he snapped. “Just mind the shop.”
She couldn’t continue arguing with him about everything, not without risking having him fire her. So she retreated.
“Will do,” she promised with a smart salute. “Oh, and Sheriff?”
He was already at the front door, one hand on the doorknob. Bracing himself, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Go easy on her,” Lani advised. “She just lost her mom.”
“She’s not the only one who lost someone,” Garrett replied.
“Yes, but right now I’m betting it feels like that to her.” Lani thought of a way to eliminate the initial awkwardness. “On your trip back, while you’re driving, you might want to tell her a couple of stories about your sister when she was a little girl.”
Now what was the deputy getting at? “Why the hell would I want to do that?”
“It’ll help you bond with her,” Lani assured him.
Garrett left the office, muttering under his breath.
Lani shook her head, turning back to her desk. “Good luck, little girl,” she murmured. “You’re really going to need it.”
Chapter Three
“So, have you whittled that boss of yours down to size yet?”
Retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant Wayne Chisholm tossed the question over his shoulder when he heard his front door open and then close again later that evening. He was in the kitchen cooking dinner, and assuming that his daughter would be stopping by after work, the way she did most evenings.
They shared a great bond, Lani and he. Aside from each being the other’s only family, he was very proud of the fact that they not only genuinely loved one another, but liked each other, as well.
After his second retirement, he had come to Booth and settled down. The small Texas town reminded him a great deal of the sleepy little town in Montana where he’d grown up. But the winters up north were too harsh for him now, especially since, after twenty years in Southern California, he had grown accustomed to a warmer climate. Booth combined the weather of Southern California with the atmosphere of the Montana town that had once been his home. Settling here just seemed right to him.
His only concern had been leaving Lani behind, but he needn’t have worried. She followed soon afterward. She’d waited only long enough to see if he was happy in his newly adopted home. Once he said he was, she’d pulled up stakes and joined him.
“I’m working on it, Gunny. I’m working on it,” Lani answered as she walked into the small, welcoming kitchen.
Shrugging out of her sheepskin jacket, she dropped it on the back of one of the two chairs and smiled wearily at the squat bull of a man hovering over the twelve-quart stockpot.
Whatever he was stirring smelled like heaven, she thought. Whiffs of steam emerged, but her father didn’t seem to notice, or be bothered by the heat.
As she watched him, affection swelled in her heart. Gunny had single-handedly raised her after her mother had died. He liked to say that they had actually raised each other because, without her mom around, he’d had to grow up and become a full-time parent really fast. Lani loved him dearly.
When he had moved here, she hadn’t hesitated. Unable to imagine life without her father somewhere close by, she’d quit her job and followed him out. When she saw the position open for deputy sheriff, she’d jumped at the chance of doing something close to her own line of work.
“My money’s on you, kid,” Gunny said with conviction. “Dinner’s about ready, so don’t get comfortable. You’ve got work to do.”
Lani grinned and crossed to the kitchen cabinet over the counter next to the sink. That was where her father kept the dishes. He cooked; she set the table. It was a division of labor she could more than live with.
“Smells good,” she told him, pausing to take a deep whiff of the aroma coming from the stovetop.
She didn’t have to look to identify what was for dinner. Beef stew, made with lots of tiny potatoes, in addition to baby peas and petite carrots—just the way she liked it.
“Have I ever made anything that didn’t?” he asked, only half teasing. “Besides, nothing but the best for my girl.”
About to open the overhead cabinet to take down two plates, Lani abruptly stopped, and instead, crossed over to her father. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and, leaning her head against his broad back, gave him a fierce hug.
“Hey, what’s that all about?” Turning around carefully so that he faced her, and holding his large wooden spoon aloft, he returned the hug with his free arm.
“Just wanted to let you know that I realize how very lucky I am to have a father like you,” she murmured.
“Well, I can’t argue with perfect logic like that,” he acknowledged,