Holiday in a Stetson: The Sheriff Who Found Christmas / A Rancho Diablo Christmas. Marie Ferrarella

sheriff got a phone call today from some social worker out in New Mexico. His sister was in a bus accident.”

      “She all right?” Gunny asked.

      “No.” Lani shook her head. “She’s dead,” she told him grimly. “Piecing things together, I figured out that she grew up in Booth, and was coming back to live here with her daughter.” Opening the drawer where her dad kept the silverware, she stopped for a moment to say, “The sheriff didn’t even know his sister had a daughter.”

      “Bad blood between them?” her father asked curiously.

      “I don’t know,” Lani admitted. “There was some kind of misunderstanding, I think. Seems that his sister married someone just like the sheriff’s stepfather.”

      Gunny thought for a moment and filled in the blanks. “Which put the sheriff’s nose out of joint?” It was more a question than a statement.

      “I think it did more than that, but he won’t talk about it. The man won’t talk about anything,” she told her father, exasperated. “But I got the impression that life was hell for him when he was growing up under his stepfather’s roof.”

      Now it all made sense. “Which is why you hugged me,” he stated.

      “Kind of,” she admitted with a grin. Forks and knives in hand, she continued setting the table. “And also because I haven’t told you lately how grateful I am that you didn’t just ship me off somewhere when Mom died.”

      “Can’t take too much credit for that.” Gunny smiled at his only offspring. “Nowhere to send you, really. Neither your mom nor I had any brothers or sisters. Her parents were both gone, and mine weren’t exactly the kind of people to leave in charge of a little girl.”

      Lani knew that her grandparents on his side had both had more than their share of drinking issues, which made her marvel all the more about the kind of person their son had turned out to be. He’d been a little strict, but loving and oh so protective of her.

      In the beginning, he had taken her with him whenever the Corps had moved him around the country. And when that became a problem, when it looked as if he was going to be stationed in a less than stable region of the world, he had resigned his commission. Just like that, he had opted to take the retirement he really wanted no part of, and had gone in search of a different career. Because of his background, and the degree he’d earned while in the marines, he’d become an engineer. For her.

      Lani paused before taking out two tall glasses, and brushed her lips against the five o’clock shadow growing on his cheek. “Well, I appreciate the sacrifice.”

      “Yeah,” he acknowledged with a dramatic sigh, “it’s been really hard putting up with a bratty kid all these years.”

      She pretended to look at him sternly—as if she ever could. “I meant giving up your commission and entering the private sector.”

      “Well, that didn’t turn out too bad,” he speculated. “Got to do my bit in defense of my country, just from another angle.” That was her father’s succinct summation of his years spent as an engineer in the aerospace-defense industry. “And now I get to be retired, cooking for you.”

      “You’d cook whether I was here or not,” she pointed out.

      “True, but it’s nice having a guinea pig,” he countered with a laugh. “Which reminds me. Come here, I need you to sample something.” Taking the wooden spoon in hand again, he dipped the tip of it into the pot he’d been stirring when she walked in, and held it out to her. “What do you think?” As she moved in to take a taste, he cautioned, “Careful, it’s hot.”

      “Thanks for the warning,” she said drily. “I didn’t see the steam billowing out of the pot on the stove.”

      He laughed, shaking his head as she sampled the stew. “Whoever marries you is going to have his hands full.”

      “Good,” Lani declared. “The stew, not the crack you just made about my future, nameless husband,” she clarified when he looked at her, amused. She plucked two napkins out of the ceramic holder in the center of the small table, and tucked them beside the plates. “You mind if I take some of your world-famous stew for someone else?” She was thinking ahead to the next evening.

      “Well, when you butter me up like that, how can I say no?” Her dad transferred a portion of the stew into a tureen, then placed that in the center of the table. “Do I get to know who this someone is, or is it a secret?”

      “No, no secret,” she told him, sitting down. She spooned out a helping of stew for herself. “It’s for Tanner and his niece, when he gets back with her.”

      Taking the ladle from her, Gunny followed suit, doling out a larger portion for himself. He’d built up an appetite cooking. He wasn’t one of those people who constantly sampled as they went. He claimed it ruined the appetite, not to mention that it produced fat cooks.

      “Oh?”

      “No, not ‘oh,’” she retorted, picking up on her dad’s inflection. “The sheriff’s going to have his niece with him, and something tells me he’s going to really need help dealing with this. I’ve got a feeling that he has no idea how to act around a little girl, and doesn’t know the first thing about what they need.”

      Gunny’s expression gave no indication what he was thinking. “So you’re going to feed him and volunteer to teach him how to be a substitute dad.”

      She looked at her father pointedly. “Someone once told me that if I see someone who needs a hand, I should stop and give him one.”

      “Wise person, that someone,” he commented, pausing to wipe the corner of his mouth.

      Lani laughed. “Yes, I always thought so. Wise and incredibly modest.” She got up to get herself a can of soda from the refrigerator.

      Her father nodded. “Good combination. Hey, while you’re over there, why don’t you get your old dad a beer?”

      Lani looked back at him, fisting her hand on her hip. Her eyebrows drew together in a pseudo scowl, emulating what she’d seen on the sheriff’s face. “What did I say about that?”

      “Sorry. While you’re over there, why don’t you get your young dad a beer?”

      “Much better. One beer coming up.” She pulled open the refrigerator door, thinking again just how very lucky she was.

       Chapter Four

      She looked just like Ellen.

      Garrett felt his gut twist painfully each time he looked at the little girl.

      He had placed his niece in the seat directly behind his own, since he felt that was the safest one in his vehicle. Glancing once more in the rearview mirror to make sure she was still all right, he was struck again by just how much Ellie resembled his sister at that age. It was almost as if one of Ellen’s childhood photographs had come to life.

      But whether or not Ellie looked like her mom didn’t negate how awkward he felt around the child. And it still didn’t change the fact that he had absolutely no idea how to talk to a little girl. He barely had any conversations with adults, certainly not lengthy ones. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d talked to a child.

      No matter how he approached it, it would have been an impossible situation at its best. And this was definitely not at its best.

      Ellen’s daughter had been silent for the entire trip so far. It was almost as if she was afraid of something. Was that normal? He had no idea. Maybe he should have taken Chisholm with him. If nothing else, she would have filled the air with chatter, made his sister’s little girl feel more comfortable.

      “You all right back there?” he finally forced himself to ask, looking at Ellie in the mirror.

      Small