High Country Cop. Cynthia Thomason

a good time for a vacation, that’s all. A woman’s allowed to change her mind.”

      Carter narrowed his eyes. “You were looking forward to this vacation, so why don’t you reschedule? Pick a winter month when you’ll really enjoy the sunshine.”

      “I have my reasons for making this decision,” Cora said. “So enough about this trip. I want to ask you some questions, Carter.”

      Carter and Jace sipped their coffees, knowing the futility of stopping Cora once she wanted to be heard.

      “Okay, since neither of you will ask, I’ll tell you.” Staring at Carter, she said, “Miranda Jefferson is back in town, but I’ll bet you already knew that.”

      Carter sighed. Here we go. “I knew. I ran into her at Dale Jefferson’s place. She’s doing some social work for Lawton, trying to make his leaving prison easier.”

      “How did that go?” Cora asked.

      Trying to steer the conversation away from his mother’s obvious interest, Carter said, “How did Lawton’s integration go? Don’t know, Mama. He just got back to town.”

      “That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Cora snapped. “How did it go between you and Miranda?”

      “Fine. Why wouldn’t it? Miranda and I called it quits years ago. A lot has happened since then.”

      “Most definitely has,” Cora said. “But now you’re both single, and you never know...”

      “Mama, stop it. I’m not interested in Miranda. You know that, and I’d appreciate it if the gossip in this town turned to other subjects. Miranda and I might end up friends after all this time, but I even have my doubts about that.”

      Cora looked at a spot halfway down the hillside. “I’m not so sure,” she said.

      Carter turned his attention to the narrow path his mother had just taken up the hill. Sure enough, another woman was coming up to join them. The blond streaks in her brown hair glinted in the sunlight as she progressed up the incline slowly and carefully. “What the heck is she doing here?” Carter asked. “And why would she attempt this trip in those stupid sandals? She probably hasn’t climbed a mountain in years.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      CARTER NEVER HAD a chance to satisfy his curiosity about Miranda’s arrival on Snowy Mountain. His mother had shot up from her wood block seat and was rushing down the path to meet her. “Miranda, oh, honey, it’s so good to see you.”

      Carter could hear the squeals from several hundred feet away.

      Cora was a profusion of questions and smiles. Apparently she was determined to get Miranda to open up since her son had refused. Well, she likely wouldn’t get any more information than her son had given her. Miranda was here on business to take care of her cousin. That was that.

      “How have you been?” Cora asked. “Why haven’t you come home before now? I hear you have a daughter. I want to hear all about her.”

      Unfortunately Carter couldn’t hear Miranda’s answers. Her enthusiasm at seeing Cora again seemed genuine but underwhelming next to Cora’s boisterous greeting. Although Miranda and Cora had always gotten along, which was a victory in itself considering Raymond Cahill’s constant attempts to keep Miranda away from his family.

      Arm in arm, like two long-lost friends, the two women joined up with the men.

      “Hi, Carter,” Miranda said.

      “Morning.”

      “I stopped at your office, but the dispatcher told me this was your day off. And by the way, I was so happy to see Mrs. Moynahan again. She was always so nice to us in high school.”

      “She’s a peach,” Carter said. “Why did you go to the office?”

      “I wanted to see you. Mrs. Moynahan said you’d probably be here at the tree farm.”

      “Same as most every Wednesday,” he said. “You’re here without your daughter?”

      “I hired a girl from the college to watch Emily today. They’re going to the animal rescue center. An injured hawk came in last night, and the vet is going to repair the bird’s wing. That’s right up Em’s alley.”

      She looked around at the trees nearest her. “The crop looks good this year.”

      She would notice that, and she was right. Back in high school Carter and Miranda had driven the golf cart up this hill many nights, though back then, their purpose had been, among other things, to watch the moon, not the growing firs.

      “It’s coming along,” he said.

      “We’re trying something new this year,” Cora said. “We’re offering trees in large planters so when the season is over, folks can plant the evergreen in their yards. After nurturing these firs for years, it seemed a shame to just cut and decorate them. Now, if folks choose to, they can have their tree near their homes for years to come.”

      “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Miranda said. Turning to Jace, who had thus far remained silent, she added, “You’re looking good, Jace. Have you taken over full-time management of Snowy Mountain?”

      Jace’s involvement with the tree farm had been an ongoing issue between him and Cora for years. Cora wanted him at the farm full time, but Jace wasn’t ready to give up his laid-back lifestyle of playing his guitar and delegating rafting trips to his help. Occasionally Jace conducted the trips, but mostly he assigned the younger, more enthusiastic guys.

      Jace made it clear that he wasn’t ready for a permanent gig yet. The tree farm would tie him down with responsibilities, and he valued his free-spirited way of living too much. He liked having to answer only to himself and his scruffy mountain dog.

      “Not yet.” Jace smoothed a thick strand of nut-brown hair off his forehead and responded to Miranda’s open arms with a quick, indifferent hug. Carter figured that’s all the welcome Miranda was going to get from his loyal brother, who had helped him through their breakup. Jace was one individual who could carry a grudge to the grave. Since their father died a little over a year ago, he was only now coming to terms with the bitter feelings he’d had for Raymond.

      Carter had gotten along with their father better than Jace had, but still, he hadn’t shed a tear when the old man died. Jace, though, the third born, the one his father always viewed as weak and incorrigible, he’d practically smiled through the entire graveside service. Their older sister, Ava, was the only one who’d never seemed to raise their father’s dander. But then, she was pretty, smart and successful.

      Carter cleared his throat. It was time to get down to business. “So what brings you up here, Miranda?” he asked. “I assume this visit and the difficult trek up the hill is about more than you visiting a few Christmas trees.”

      “You’re right,” she said. “I have a proposition for you.”

      “Yeah? What is it?”

      She glanced quickly at his two family members until Carter took the hint. “Can you guys give us a minute?” he said.

      “Let’s check on the fellas up the hill,” Cora said to Jace. “I’ll bet they want some coffee, too.”

      “Don’t be a stranger, Miranda. Bring that daughter of yours out to the house and we’ll have some girl talk,” Cora said as she and Jace wandered away.

      “I’ll do that, Cora. Thanks.”

      Once they were out of sight, Carter said, “I can offer you a wood block to sit on. That’s about the fanciest accommodation we have around here. But when you’re ready to leave I’ll have one of the men come up with the golf cart and take you down.” He attempted a smile. “I couldn’t help noticing your shoes aren’t