Her Christmas Hero: Christmas Justice / Snow Blind / Christmas at Thunder Horse Ranch

Molly bent over and picked up a pinecone. “Ooh. Sticky,” she said, dropping it. She skipped around Garrett and Laurel, then ran a bit ahead.

“Molly,” Garrett said with a warning tone.

She stopped and turned. “Sorry.” She bowed her head and kicked a small rock.

“Just let me go first when we come to a thicket of trees,” he said.

“What’s a thicket?”

“A big group. Like right here.”

Garrett stepped into a small grove. He bent down. “See where the winter grass is bent over? An animal slept here sometime last night or this morning.”

He looked around and knelt beside a few tracks, two teardrops side by side. “Deer, probably mule deer in these parts.”

Molly crouched beside him. “You can tell that?”

“Everything and everyone makes its mark.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “Most everything can be traced or tracked. No one is invisible.”

“My job was to analyze data from sources no one can imagine,” Laurel said. “I know it’s difficult to hide. But not impossible.”

“Fair.” Garrett stood. “But if it were easy to hide, Ivy would never have found me at all.”

The admission didn’t come easy, but Laurel needed to understand how difficult her life was about to become.

“There’s a small pool nearby. We’ve had some rain this year, so it might be full.”

They climbed over some more craggy rocks to a granite outcropping. The sun had warmed the rock, and below, a large pool of water glistened in the light.

“Just the place for our picnic.”

He looked at the surroundings. Safe, and it was clear enough that he had a view where he could see anyone coming.

“Not exactly rolling hills,” Laurel said, sitting down with the small box holding their lunch.

“I want to sit by here,” Molly said, pointing at a small, flat rock.

“Just your size,” Garrett said.

“Nothing rolling or quaint about West Texas,” Garrett offered, pulling the sandwiches from the bag.

“It’s dramatic,” she admitted. “You can see forever.”

“I like this spot. I come here sometimes. To think. Nothing small about this land. About seventy-six miles that way is the border with Mexico. North fifty miles and you’re in New Mexico. On a clear day like today, you can see one hundred and fifty miles. Can’t do that on the coast.” He handed Molly a juice box.

“You miss D.C.?”

Garrett bit into his sandwich, swallowing past the lump in his throat, and considered his answer. “I miss the life I had.” He missed his family. Every day. He no longer wanted to die along with them. The need for revenge made a body fight. Just to make the guilty pay.

Laurel’s gaze fell to Molly. “I understand that. Going back will never be the same, will it?”

“Nothing is ever the same.”

Molly crossed her legs and gazed into the water. “Can I touch it?”

“It’s cold,” Garrett warned.

Molly tiptoed to the edge of the pool, squatted in front of it and dipped her hand into the water. She snatched it back with a yelp.

“I’m not swimming in there.” She raced back to Laurel and hugged her legs. “Too cold.”

“Molly, do you see this rock?” Garrett picked up a piece of dark granite.

“It sparkles.”

Molly’s eyes widened as the stone glittered in the sunlight. “Can I keep it to show my mommy when she comes back?”

“You can have it,” Garrett said, then lifted a familiar bag from the box.

Molly grinned. “Cookies?”

He set the treat aside. “Of course.”

Molly popped a cookie in her mouth. When she finished it off, her leg swung on the side of the rock. “Can I go ’sploring?”

Laurel started to shake her head, but Garrett interrupted, “We’ve made too much noise not to drive the animals away.” He turned to Molly. “Stay in sight. If you leave the clearing, we’ll have to go back to the house.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a nail in my eye,” Molly said, making a motion across her chest.

A chuckle escaped Garrett. She was so like his Ella. But so different, too. Molly jumped from the rock. She scampered to the edge of the clearing.

He folded Laurel’s hand in his. “She’ll be okay. I promise we’re making too much noise for the cougar to be interested,” he said.

“Bears?”

“Not here. Not enough vegetation and large animals.”

Laurel dropped her half-eaten sandwich in the box and stood. She watched Molly. “I’m scared for her.”

Garrett rose from the rock. “She’s a strong girl. She’s got a great aunt. You’ll both make it through this.”

“What if whoever killed Ivy gets away with it?”

Garrett couldn’t stop his teeth from grinding together. No way would he let that happen. Not while he still lived. But he couldn’t promise anything. The people after him had no morals, no conscience. If anyone got in their way, they killed them. And they didn’t care about the innocent ones who got hurt in the process.

He turned Laurel in his arms and stared into her eyes. “However this goes, I’ll make sure you and Molly find a way to be safe.”

Laurel lowered her lids. “They might get away with it.”