The Lawman's Holiday Wish Read online

  Second-Chance Christmas

  No one in Kirkwood Lake seems willing to forget, or forgive, Rainey McKinney’s troubled past. But Rainey can’t afford to let that bother her. Her top priority is rebuilding her life and being a good mom to her twin daughters. Even handsome deputy sheriff Luke Campbell can’t distract her, tempting as he is. She’s determined to keep her distance, but as his son and her girls form a special bond, Rainey and Luke can’t help but do the same. Can Rainey put her past behind her once and for all and embrace a future full of hope—and love?

  Kirkwood Lake: A town full of heart and hope.

  As Rainey handed the tray

  up to him, their gazes met again.

  Sheer beauty.

  And it wasn’t because of her lovely face, her gold-toned skin or the soft tumble of hair.

  It was her spirit, shining through the smile she gave him.

  His chest tightened, as it did the week before, when he’d first laid eyes on her. But inside, his heart melted.

  Think, man. She’s got a troubled history.

  He knew that. Rainey’s teenage years had been nothing but trouble, but in all his years on the force, he’d seen a lot of kids change their lives. Why not her? Why not now?

  Was he willing to risk his son’s well-being? He was a grown man. Aidan was a kid who’d already drawn the short straw on mothers once. Leave it alone.

  Luke had to. He knew it.

  But ignoring this attraction to Rainey was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Books by Ruth Logan Herne

  Love Inspired

  Winter’s End

  Waiting Out the Storm

  Made to Order Family

  *Reunited Hearts

  *Small-Town Hearts

  *Mended Hearts

  *Yuletide Hearts

  *A Family to Cherish

  *His Mistletoe Family

  †The Lawman’s Second Chance

  †Falling for the Lawman

  †The Lawman’s Holiday Wish

  *Men of Allegany County

  †Kirkwood Lake

  RUTH LOGAN HERNE

  Born into poverty, Ruth puts great stock in one of her favorite Ben Franklinisms: “Having been poor is no shame. Being ashamed of it is.” With God-given appreciation for the amazing opportunities abounding in our land, Ruth finds simple gifts in the everyday blessings of smudge-faced small children, bright flowers, freshly baked goods, good friends, family, puppies and higher education. She believes a good woman should never fear dirt, snakes or spiders, all of which like to infest her aged farmhouse, necessitating a good pair of tongs for extracting the snakes, a flat-bottomed shoe for the spiders, and for the dirt…

  Simply put, she’s learned that some things aren’t worth fretting about! If you laugh in the face of dust and love to talk about God, men, romance, great shoes and wonderful food, feel free to contact Ruth through her website at www.ruthloganherne.com.

  THE LAWMAN’S HOLIDAY WISH

  Ruth Logan Herne

  He that is without sin among you,

  let him cast the first stone.

  —John 8:7

  To my wonderful son Luke, a young man

  whose strength, grace, humor and brilliance

  has been a beacon to his parents. Luke,

  we’re so very proud of you! Merry Christmas!

  Acknowledgments

  Huge thanks to my dear husband, Dave, for road-tripping with me to Chautauqua Lake and Jamestown, New York, the inspirational settings for the fictional “Kirkwood Lake.” To Mandy and Beth for doing the same thing, and the laughter and fun we have on each trip. To the Pittsford Dairy, my model for a glass bottle dairy and bakery. To the migrant workers I’ve met over the years—men and women whose work ethic abounds under tough conditions. God bless you! To Nancy Turner and the crew at www.thisoldhorse.org in Hastings, Minnesota, for her wonderful advice on how to handle “Spirit’s” role in this story. Nancy, you are an amazing woman with a great “spirit” of your own. Thank you so much for your help! It was invaluable. To Virginia Carmichael for her advice on Tres Leches cake! And a huge round of thanks to my daycare moms, whose encouragement and trust humbles me. I love youse guys.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Recipe

  Dear Reader

  Questions for Discussion

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Deputy Sheriff Luke Campbell aimed his cruiser for the Kirkwood Lake Elementary School with measured reluctance. A mandatory meeting with his five-year-old son’s principal and teacher didn’t bode well for him or the boy. It didn’t take an early-education degree to tell Luke what he already knew. Aiden was quiet, withdrawn, uncertain, timid and refused to join activities.

  Luke had hoped being in school would help, but this was the second phone call in three weeks regarding Aiden’s issues. How much was real and how much exaggerated by a smart kid who knew how to evoke adult sympathy to the max?

  Luke didn’t have a clue.

  Did he tend to make excuses for the boy?

  Yes.

  Did he have good reason?

  Yes again, but unless he wanted to be a failure as a parent, he had to find a way to bring Aiden around. The sooner the better.

  He’s five. Give him time.

  Luke shoved the thought aside. He’d been telling himself that for nearly three years, since Aiden lost his mother. School was important, and getting along with other kids was invaluable, all the books said so. They called it “socialization.”

  Luke was the third of seven Campbells, three of whom were adopted. In the Campbell house, you either socialized quickly or got taught a lesson by your big brothers.

  Luke’s sweet mother had been praying for Aiden’s situation to improve.

  Luke used to pray. Back before he realized the improbability of a just and beneficent God. Because if God did exist, He’d messed up the job, and Luke knew that firsthand.

  But if it made his mother feel better to pray, who was he to argue? Jenny Campbell was a great lady, a wonderful mom and grandma, and Luke loved and admired her. He’d leave the praying to her and her church friends.

  An aging Camry darted into the school driveway ahead of him, then pulled to a quick, crooked stop in the mostly empty parking lot.

  Luke angled into the spot alongside the other car and climbed out. He turned and locked gazes with the dark-haired woman staring at him, her unadorned hands grasping the top of the car door.

  Breathtaking beauty. Tall and slim. Scared to death.

  You’re in uniform, Einstein.

  Of course. She thought he’d followed her into the school lot to issue a ticket, but she hadn’t done anything wrong. The posted signs were school-in-session speed limits, and she hadn’t exactly careened around the corner on two wheels.

  But her face he
ld more than concerned chagrin. It held fear, and the cop in him wondered why she feared police. He jerked his head toward the building as he walked that way. “You here for a meeting, too?”

  Relief eased her jaw and the set of her shoulders. She nodded as she matched his stride. “Yes.”

  Vulnerable but tough; they were two red warning flags, despite the instant attraction. Luke stayed away from vulnerable women. Once burned, twice shy.

  Tough women weren’t his cup of tea, either.

  His older brother Jack had scolded him the week before. Said he was afraid to shop around because he couldn’t find June Cleaver.

  Was Jack right?

  Most likely. But this woman wasn’t making eye contact with him, so the attraction must be one-sided.

  Or she’s hiding something.

  And that was just one more reason to keep his distance. If he could get beyond the caramel skin. The past-her-shoulders, wavy dark hair. Eyes round and deep-toned. “You’ve got a kid here?”

  “Two.”

  That surprised him. She looked young, mid-twenties. Too young to have two elementary school kids, at any rate. But maybe she wasn’t too young. He might be feeling old before his time.

  He stepped forward and swung the door wide for her.

  She glanced up to thank him.

  Time stopped.

  So did she.

  Her eyes, a blend of storm-cloud gray and milk-chocolate brown, were a shade he had no name for. Brows, thin and arched, framed long lashes that looked real. Her mouth, soft and full, was perfectly shaped....

  No makeup.

  Unusual. Didn’t all beautiful women wear makeup these days?

  She opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped, pressed her lips together, turned and moved through the door. But that moment—seconds that felt like long, drawn-out minutes—assured him the electricity went both ways.

  They walked down one hall side by side, turned right, then proceeded to the principal’s office.

  Mr. O’Mara stepped through his door. He nodded to Luke and sent a look of commiseration to the woman. “Rainey, I’m sorry, but you’re late. Deputy Campbell’s meeting is scheduled to start now. Can you wait here and we’ll meet about the twins once we’re done talking with Luke?”

  Rainey.

  Rainey Cabrera McKinney, the woman who’d done time years ago for a crime she didn’t commit. A woman who’d skated the edge of the law too often as a kid. His friend Piper McKinney had been raising Rainey’s twin daughters until Rainey returned to the family farm last month.

  “Rainey wants to make amends,” Piper had told him.

  The word on the street, and the look on her face, said the whole making-amends thing wasn’t going too well. Luke’s mother had a saying: “Small-town folks have little to talk about, and drawn-out winters to do it.”

  With winter approaching, Piper McKinney’s sister might be in for a long, hard haul.

  Rainey nodded, stepped back and took a seat on the hand-crafted wooden bench outside the office. “It’s no problem, Mr. O’Mara. I’ll wait here.”

  Deep and poignant, her soft “Tex-Mex” voice complemented her looks, but that could be another strike against her. Kirkwood Lake was a great town, but with the summer recreational season over, people would have too much time on their hands. That could make things tough for the woman to his left. As if taking the fall for a dishonest friend and doing prison time wasn’t rough enough.

  But right now he had his own personal dragon to face. He stepped into the office, gave a brisk nod to Miss Patterson, Aiden’s teacher, and took a seat. “About my son...”

  * * *

  Rainey drew a deep, calming breath.

  The deputy had surprised her in the parking lot. She’d turned, seen his cruiser and frozen.

  His look said he’d wondered why, but when the principal called her by name, she’d read awareness in the officer’s eyes.

  He knew who she was. What she’d done. And what she’d failed to do by leaving her daughters in others’ care for three long years.

  You have been cleansed, my daughter, clothed in the light. Grace has come upon you as the dewfall....

  She loved that image. Silent, encompassing, peaceful.

  Then why did her gut clench? Her thoughts ran rampant, wondering what the girls’ teachers would say.

  Rainey stared at the door, wishing her mother or sister could have come along. But they were shorthanded at their Western New York dairy today, and someone had to watch Sonya and Dorrie.

  You won’t have to worry about being shorthanded if your customer base keeps shrinking.

  With Rainey’s return, customers at the dairy had diminished, sales were down and profits eroding, all because Rainey had taken the helm a few weeks back.

  Her mother brushed it off. Lucia McKinney embraced an “and this too shall pass” mentality. She believed things would work out in God’s time, one way or another.

  So did Piper.

  Not Rainey. She hadn’t come home to mess things up more thoroughly; she’d come back to make things right. Set the record straight. And reclaim her position as the twins’ mother, a role she’d abdicated to keep them safe when a rogue cop threatened Rainey’s freedom...and her baby daughters.

  Old guilt pricked her new and growing faith. Her girls were having trouble in school.

  Were they following her example? Were they incorrigible? Or were they just normal kids fighting change, as Piper and her mother insisted?

  The murmur of voices in the room said the officer—Luke Campbell, she remembered—was being bombarded. Maybe they’d get it out of their systems with the big, strong deputy and go easy on her.

  The door to the office opened.

  Luke came out, looking none too happy.

  Mr. O’Mara’s expression wasn’t any better.

  The teacher looked aggrieved. None of this boded well for Rainey’s time in the hot seat.

  Luke waved her in. “Your turn in the line of fire, I believe.”

  “Luke, we—”

  “Mr. O’Mara, I understand where you’re coming from.” Luke turned to face the principal, and from the clipped sound of his voice, he wasn’t pleased with what had been said. “But I’m not letting anyone label Aiden at this point in his life. Yes, he has emotional issues. We’re trying to fix that. But I’m not allowing him to be placed in a special education classroom because his teacher expects a kindergartner to instantly conform to a new situation.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll talk at conference time in November,” Luke insisted, and Rainey had to admit the guy had a point. Maybe some five-year-olds could adjust quickly to a new setting and new people. But was it that big a deal if a kindergartner took a few weeks to settle in?

  She wouldn’t have thought so, but then she wasn’t an example of stellar behavior. And her lack of experience put her maternal instincts into question.

  The teacher’s noncommittal face said she disagreed. Mr. O’Mara appeared caught in the middle, but he stepped back, defusing the situation. “We’ll keep you apprised of Aiden’s progress. Miss Patterson and I both thought you should be brought on board from the beginning. You know we don’t make these recommendations lightly.”

  Luke faced the principal directly. “We didn’t used to, Frank. But kids get pigeonholed more easily today than in the past, and I’d like a little more time for Aiden to adjust. He’s not causing a problem, right?”

  “No.”

  “It’s hard to cause a problem when you do nothing,” Miss Patterson replied. Her tone of voice was condescending and sanctimonious, as if she’d just been appointed the resident expert on five-year-olds.

  That made Rainey suck in a deep breath.

  Educated people intimidated her.

&
nbsp; Yes, she’d gotten her associate’s degree in veterinary technology while serving time. And she’d worked as a vet tech for three years outside Chicago. But a two-year degree didn’t put her on equal footing with a licensed teacher who’d obtained her master’s degree in early education.

  Luke must have caught her apprehension from the corner of his eye, because he leveled a look at her, one that intimated they were in this together, and said, “I’ll see you outside, Rainey.”

  The teacher’s gaze sharpened.

  Mr. O’Mara showed no reaction. He just waved to Luke and turned toward Rainey.

  A second teacher stepped into the room—Mrs. Loughlin, Dorrie’s teacher. Rainey knew her. She used to be a steady customer at the dairy store, and her kids had gone to school with Rainey and Piper. Would Rainey’s past color the older woman’s opinion? Should she consider sending the twins to the small Christian school over in Bemus Point, where her youthful indiscretions weren’t so well-known?

  She’d think about that later. Right now she needed to face these professionals and prove she was capable of mothering her girls in proper fashion.

  She sat. Miss Patterson took a chair to her left, Mrs. Loughlin to her right. Frank completed the circle by drawing his chair forward. “Thank you for coming in, Rainey.”

  “I’m sorry I was late. I know how important it is for the girls to have a successful school experience from the beginning.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Miss Patterson’s thin smile said she agreed. Her posture said she doubted Rainey’s ability to ensure any such thing. “Sonya’s a delight. A true treasure. So sweet, so endearing.” Her insincere smile came with an incoming-missile warning attached.

  Miss Patterson’s brains might intimidate Rainey. Her veiled contempt didn’t. “But?”

  Mr. O’Mara frowned.

  Mrs. Loughlin sat quietly, hands folded.

  Miss Patterson leaned in, cool as a fish on ice at the Saturday marketplace. “She doesn’t want to do anything without her sister.”

  “Identical twins are often very close.”