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Authors: Kat Latham

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction

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BOOK: Three Nights before Christmas
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Lacey had spent
three years fantasizing about what she would do after being released from prison. First on the list was eating a dessert that didn’t come wrapped in cellophane stamped with yesterday’s date under “Use by”. Getting a facial to treat her rapidly aging skin, a manicure to hide her well-bitten fingernails, and a haircut that looked like something out of this century also made the list—followed by hopping on the closest Amtrak and getting the hell out of Montana.

Oddly enough, clomping through the snowy terrain of Copper Mountain National Forest with her brooding brother was nowhere on the list, particularly since they were less than two miles from the spot where she’d last tasted freedom. It was Thanksgiving morning, and she’d woken up early out of habit. Sawyer had gotten up soon after and started preparing a big turkey-day lunch—roasted turkey thighs, colcannon from Grammy Gallagher’s family recipe, grilled corn, their mom’s cranberry and orange sauce, and a store-bought pumpkin pie.

But as the afternoon had stretched on with them both avoiding every topic of conversation that mattered, the house had grown thick with tension. Finally Sawyer had said, “Want to get to work?” and Lacey had leaped from the chair and tugged on her old steel-toed boots, the only item of clothing that still fit her.

He’d brought her out here to the land he leased from the National Forest Service to explain the help he needed from her over the next month. She was grateful to be away from the farm, where she was equally likely to run in to judgmental busybodies or old friends who’d never contacted her once she’d gone away. This land was peaceful, remote. But it brought hidden dangers with it, too—dangers in the shape of an NFS law-enforcement officer she never wanted to see again.

She shoved her hands in her pockets as they trekked through the snow-tufted trees. “So you mostly just want me to tag the trees that can be cut?”

He jerked his head in what passed for a nod in Sawyer’s world. “Pretty much. And deal with the customers who come up to cut their own, but this part of the forest’s remote so the ones who do that will be pretty intrepid and able to fend for themselves. I’ll have a couple of guys up here with you to do the cutting and hauling for anything we sell down on the lot. Don’t worry, though—I’ve known Joel and Tony for years. They’re good guys. Won’t hassle you.”

She fought against her instinctive eye roll.
Once a big brother…
“I promise not to hassle them either.”

He shot her a glance, that one look managing to communicate thirty-one years of thinking he knew her better than she knew herself. Once upon a time, that was probably true. After all, he’d warned her…

But no, she’d spent too long with nothing to do but recriminate herself for her stupidity. Today, she was outside, and that was all that mattered.

His long strides ate up the ground and crunched through the snow. She didn’t have to struggle to keep up. She’d spent most of her career going a hundred miles an hour, and for the past three years the only time she’d felt a breeze in her face was when a fellow prisoner or a guard got right up in her grill, shouting about something or other so hard their breath chapped her cheeks. Forward motion felt good. It felt like progress. Like she had a goal and a purpose—even if that feeling was a sham. Oh, she did have a goal all right. To keep her head down and her nose clean so she could spend the next seven years on parole instead of back inside, serving out the rest of her sentence. Was that the same as having a purpose?

Right now, she couldn’t give less of a shit. The only things blocking her view of the horizon were mountains—not bars and high walls topped with barbed wire. Last night, she slept in her own bed, her own room, instead of the lumpy, squeaky bottom bunk of a sixteen-bed dorm. There were walls and a door protecting her privacy when she went to the bathroom. And her tummy was full of turkey that came from a local farm and potatoes that had never seen the inside of a box. And coffee—three cups of it—made from freshly ground beans and real cream.

A woman could sacrifice a hell of a lot more than
purpose
for such a paradise.

“That lawyer of yours…she must be what? Twenty-five?”

Lacey blinked at the change of mental direction. “Jenna? I don’t know. I haven’t asked her.” She cast her mind back to her earliest conversations with Jenna, who’d been visiting one of Lacey’s friends in the prison. “I know she’s been practicing for a few years, so I’d guess more like late twenties. Why? Are you worried about her lack of experience? I mean, she can’t be any worse than my crappy public defender.”

Sawyer stiffened. “I offered to hire you a better lawyer.”

“Yeah, and it would’ve required remortgaging the house at a time when half the country was having their homes foreclosed on.” She didn’t want to dent his pride by pointing out he would’ve struggled to repay the loan, but the implication sat heavily between them.

“I would’ve made it work, Lacey. I would’ve happily made it work. Please don’t blame me now for your crappy public defender.”

Her hand flew to her chest, as if she could snatch back the air that burst from her lungs. “
Blame
you? Who’s blaming you? I’m blaming Arnold Jones, Esquire. And if anyone else is to blame, it’s me.
I
made the decision to keep him.”

His jaw tightened, trapping whatever response she knew he was dying to make. That was a first, at least. He never used to hold back.

“So what do you know about her?”

Head pounding, Lacey rubbed her temple. “About who?”

“Your lawyer. Jenna Whatshername.”

“Macintosh. I know she has an amazing record of defending women charged with drug offenses. I know she works her ass off. I know she believes in me. I know she’s pointed out several things she would’ve done differently than my first lawyer. And I know she’s taken on my case pro-bono because she thinks I should’ve been better defended.”

“I offered—”

“I
know
.” Annoyance stopped her dead in her tracks and she grabbed his elbow. She took several deep breaths, tipping her head back to stare at the gray sky until her heart rate finally slowed to something approaching normal.

I am outside. Everything else in life is manageable.

Trying to sound calmer than she felt, she said, “I know, Sawyer. Maybe I’ve never told you how much I appreciate that. If I could go back in time, maybe I would’ve made a different decision, but the fact is that I am an adult, and I was an adult when I went on trial. I had a good career, my own apartment, lots of friends, and a life I loved. But I made stupid decisions, and I was the one who had to pay the price.
Me
. Not you. Not Mom and Dad. Not the kids you end up having with whatever poor woman finds your special brand of brooding sexy.”

His brows drew together. “What do my nonexistent kids have to do with this?”

“I assume they’ll inherit the house and land one day. How could I mortgage their future legacy?”

He shook his head in obvious bafflement. “As long as I live, I’ll never understand women. How can you plan that far in advance?”

“I’ve had a lot of time on my hands lately. Anyway, my decisions and my mistakes are mine. Mine alone. I don’t blame you. How could I? You sat behind me every day in court. You visited me every month, sent me care packages… And now you’re helping me have a fresh start. I can’t—”

Suddenly, she was smothered in flannel, her face buried against her brother’s sweaty chest and his arms hugging her. “I hated every single second you were in there. Fucking
hated
it. You should’ve been at home, munchkin.”

She groaned, the uncharacteristic display of mushiness trying to take root among the weeds that had grown inside her, the ones that had just grown weedier after the painful awkwardness of the past twenty-four hours. The hug that would’ve been so welcome yesterday felt intrusive today. She needed distance, so she injected some levity into her voice. “I’m so glad you never called me that in front of other inmates. I would’ve been shanked for sure.”

His arms dropped. “You’re a sick puppy, joking like that.”

“What? I thought it was funny.”

He shook his head and walked away, muttering, “Demented.”

He led her around the perimeter, pointing out the trees that were ready to cut and the ones that would bring him an income next year and beyond. Some of the information was familiar, but she’d needed this refresher course. She hadn’t helped on the tree farm since she’d graduated from high school; work had kept her too busy. Having the opportunity to do it again made her feel lighter than she had in ages, as if the snow-and-spruce scented air magically dissolved years of grime.

That feeling stayed with her until they finally got back to Sawyer’s truck…but it skittered away as soon as she caught sight of the green-and-white SUV parked behind Sawyer’s, a terribly familiar vehicle with the words
Copper Mountain National Forest Law Enforcement
emblazoned on the side. A vehicle she’d once sat in the back of, her wrists cuffed tightly behind her.

The driver’s door opened and out stepped Officer Wilder, unsmiling and staring at her from behind dark sunglasses. Slamming the door shut, he crossed the parking lot toward her.

Chapter Three


D
amn it.
Tension
cramped the muscles between Austin’s shoulders as he locked eyes with the one person he’d hoped never to see up here. Fortunately, his sunglasses blocked his momentary surprise from her, while her face was wide open to his interpretation.

“You allowed to be up here?” he asked.

Lacey hadn’t actually been arrested on NFS land, so staying off it probably wasn’t part of her parole agreement. And he couldn’t imagine her being stupid enough to break parole the day after getting out. Still, better to check. Some people were exactly that stupid.

Her shoulders stiffened. “Yes.”

He waited for more but nothing came. When he’d driven her to the station after arresting her, she’d poured out so many words his head had hurt. Now it ached for an altogether different reason. He turned his attention to Sawyer. “We’re expecting heavy snowfall this afternoon, so I’m out here letting people know they should head back down unless they have the right equipment.”

Sawyer’s nod was brusque, just as all their interactions had been for the past several years. Not that it bothered Austin. He’d be pissed off if someone arrested his sister, too, whether she’d deserved it or not—and, knowing Camila, she probably had deserved it a time or two.

Lacey and Sawyer stepped around him, heading to Sawyer’s truck, but they hadn’t gotten far before Austin called out, “Ms. Gallagher, you planning to spend a lot of time up here?”

Sawyer opened his mouth to say something, but Lacey beat him to it. “Yes.”

Austin’s brows rose. “Really? You think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes.”

Okay, he was getting fucking exhausted with the attitude. “Explain to me, in detail, what you’ll be doing up here.”

So she did, starting with a million details he didn’t need about how to determine whether a tree was ready to be cut and followed by the safety procedures she would follow to ensure none of Sawyer’s customers got hurt when cutting their own. He stayed silent, knowing she was purposely giving him exactly what he’d asked for and not a single thing else. As she spoke, he cataloged more changes. Her words were precise, her delivery unemotional. She could’ve been reading from a textbook. It was as if she’d learned how to give nothing of herself while giving the person in power everything he wanted. A neat trick he imagined came in handy for prisoners.

Except, the more she spoke, the more Austin wanted…
something
. He couldn’t pinpoint what, but it distracted him, this missing element. Something personal, emotional. A view behind her shuttered gaze—something he knew he had no right to expect, since his own sunglasses protected him from her. Yesterday, she’d been off balance, but so had he, so he hadn’t been able to step back and assess the situation the way he normally would.

He held up his hand, her stream of factual bullshit immediately cutting off. “Snow’s starting to fall. You should both get back home. And Ms. Gallagher?” He waited till she met his steady gaze. “I’ll be dropping in on you regularly to make sure trees are the only things you’re growing.”

“I look forward to it, Officer.”

He couldn’t help the amused twitch of his lips. The first lie she’d told him today.

She’d finally given him something.

Chapter Four


BOOK: Three Nights before Christmas
9.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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