Evergreen Springs

“Hi, Dr. Shaw,” Ty said. “Did you see all that snow?”

She crouched down to talk to him at his level. “I sure did. I just drove through it on the way up here from town. It’s pretty deep. With snow like that, there’s only one thing to do. You have to build a snowman.”

Ty’s face lit up. “Yes! We should! Jaz, don’t you think we should build a snowman?”

While Cole was busy trying not to stare at Devin, Jazmyn had wandered out to see who was at the door.

“It’s too cold,” Jazmyn answered, though Cole didn’t miss the sudden spark of excitement in her eyes. She was so contrary she even argued with herself and didn’t want to admit what she really wanted.

“If you dress warmly, you’ll be so busy having fun, you won’t even feel the cold,” Dr. Shaw assured her.

“Can we, Dad? Can we?” Ty asked.

He didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to disappoint his son but he had ranch accounts to finish and then a call scheduled in fifteen minutes with a new client who wanted to discuss a possible lucrative new contract. The vet was supposed to be dropping by sometime that afternoon to take a look at one of the horses he was training who seemed off his feed.

A little resentful of Dr. Shaw for showing up on the doorstep and giving him one more thing to feel guilty about, Cole opened his mouth to tell Ty they could try to build one later in the afternoon but she spoke before he could.

“I’ve got a few minutes,” she offered. “And I’m particularly good at snowpeople. I would love to help you build a snowman, if your dad doesn’t mind.”

What was he supposed to say to that? He couldn’t send her on her way without sounding like even more of a jerk.

“I’m sure you didn’t drive all the way up here just so you could build a snowman with my son,” he said.

She smiled. “No. I would just consider that a bonus. Actually, I came out to bring you something.”

He gazed blankly at her. “You did?”

She opened the front door and pointed to a large cardboard box outside on the porch.

“What is it?” Ty asked.

“Is it a puppy?” Jazmyn asked. “I really want a puppy.”

“We have a dog,” he answered, pointing to Coco, who had eased her tired bones down onto the rug in the foyer.

“She’s old and she doesn’t ever want to play,” Jazmyn answered. “And her breath stinks.”

“It’s not a puppy,” Dr. Shaw assured him. “Stinky or otherwise.”

“Is it a Christmas present?” Ty asked.

“I guess you could call it that. A Christmas present from lots of different people.”

“Can I see what it is?”

“Go ahead.”

Ty opened the flaps, peered inside, then eased away with a confused look. “It’s just bowls and stuff.”

“What is it?” Jazmyn asked, pushing her way forward. If there was anything interesting happening within her orbit, Jaz wanted to be part of it.

“Dinner,” she answered cheerfully. “Several dinners. And maybe some lunches, too.”

He frowned, eyeing the box warily. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugged, but if he didn’t know better, he would say she looked a little embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind, but your sister told me a little about your situation.”

“My situation,” he said stiffly. How much had Tricia told her?

“She said you recently lost a housekeeper. With her in the hospital now and likely to stay there for at least a few weeks, she’s concerned about you and the children.”

“I’ve got things under control,” he muttered. One look into the living room mess would certainly prove that for a bald-faced lie.

“I’m sure you do,” she answered. “But everybody can use a little help and you’ve got your hands full. My sister helped me put the word out to our sources that we have a neighbor in need and this is the result.”

He gazed down at the box filled with containers. “Food. You brought food.”

“These are ready-made meals that can go in your freezer or fridge. A few soups, some casseroles, even a lasagna in there. All you have to do is heat them, no prep required.”

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around what she was saying. “Who did you say this came from?”

“Lots of people. When somebody needs help in Haven Point, people love the chance to step up.”

People he didn’t know had fixed meals for him and his kids. How was he supposed to react to that? In all his life, he wasn’t sure anybody had ever done something like this for him before.

“I know it’s not much,” she said at his continued silence. “But it should get you through a week or so. They’re all really kid-friendly meals. We tried to make sure of that. I believe you should be able to find a thing or two your kids will like.”

“Food? That’s the present? That’s weird,” Jazmyn said.

“Is there any mac and cheese?” Ty asked. “That’s my favorite.”

She smiled. “As a matter of fact, I made some for you myself this morning.”

She made it? Cole couldn’t quite process the idea of a busy physician spending even five minutes preparing a meal for his family.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say,” he finally answered.

“You don’t have to say anything. Everybody was happy to help. Most of my friends already had a meal in their freezer or just made extra this morning of whatever they were going to make for their own family’s dinner. Oh, and it helps that I’m very good friends with Barbara Serrano, whose family owns the diner in town. She sent over several things in there. I think I saw a meat loaf, some chicken alfredo and some of their fabulous pasta e fagioli soup.”

All of those sounded delicious. His kitchen skills were limited to burgers on the grill, pancakes and a pretty good omelet, which meant the kids—Jaz in particular—would likely be launching a rebellion after another day or two.

“In fact,” Dr. Shaw went on, “so many people offered something that I’ve got another box in my truck. Do you think you have freezer room? Don’t worry if you don’t. I can take it back to my place for now and then come back with another load in a week or so.”

He had been so careful around the people of Haven Point—never rude but not exactly friendly, either. It was easier to stick up here on the ranch, to do his business over the phone or outside Haven Point. That way, people didn’t ask questions and he didn’t have to get into uncomfortable explanations. Even so, when he went to town, he wondered if people were whispering about him. Ex-con. Washed-up. Disaster.

Now they could add struggling, out-of-his-depth single father to the mix.

Despite all his efforts to keep people in town at a distance, somehow they still had been willing to do this for him and for his kids. It defied comprehension.