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High Country Christmas. Cynthia ThomasonЧитать онлайн книгу.

High Country Christmas - Cynthia Thomason


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of cottage parents. She already has one parent who just happens to be having a little trouble.”

      A little trouble? Ava tried logic. “We have room for Sawyer right now,” she said. “You will have complete access to her. You can visit her whenever you like. If she agrees, after some time she can even go home with you for a weekend, once we’ve done a visitation.”

      Noah responded with a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh? I can see my own daughter on weekends...maybe? How kind of you. This is not happening, Miss Administrator. Not now. Not ever.”

      A rustling nearby drew their attention to the back door. Sawyer stood in the frame, looking out. Carter was behind her. “Everything okay out here?” he asked.

      “Are you almost done talking about me as if I didn’t exist?” Sawyer said.

      Ava smiled. “What would you like to say, Sawyer?”

      She looked down, locking her gaze on the grass. When she lifted her face, she stared at Noah. “I’m old enough to have a say in my own life.”

      “Okay,” he said. “Go ahead. Have your say.”

      “I don’t want to go home with you, Dad. You’re never home, and I hate Mrs. Filmore. She’s more like a warden than a housekeeper. And don’t think you can just hire another one and I’ll be happy.” Sawyer looked over the expansive green lawn that led to the cottages. “This place is probably really lame, but it would be better than home. I’m going to stay here, for a while at least.”

      Ava couldn’t bear to see the sense of futility in Noah’s eyes. She’d seen it too many times in the looks of parents who’d failed their children in so many ways. She gave him a gentle smile that for some odd reason felt strangely natural and spoke to Sawyer.

      “We need to get some things straight,” she said. “This place, as you call it, isn’t a resort, Sawyer. It’s a home for children and teens with special problems. We have rules that must be followed and consequences if they are broken. You will be living with nine other housemates of all ages. Your room will be shared with another resident. You will see a counselor once a week, or more often if we think it’s needed. Your cottage parents will know where you go and whom you see. If they deny permission, that’s it then.”

      Ava realized she was painting a rather rigid picture of life at Sawtooth Children’s Home, but she firmly believed that Sawyer should understand that her life would be regimented, and she would have to meet expectations. Maybe the reality of life here was getting through to both father and daughter. At least they were both listening.

      Ava could easily believe that Noah Walsh loved his daughter, but their relationship was toxic, and she knew time apart would help them. “Carter,” she said to her brother, “you go on. We’ll be fine here. I’m just going to take Sawyer and Noah on a tour of the campus. Tell Mama I won’t be there for dinner tonight.”

      Carter tucked his hat back onto his forehead. “If you’re sure.”

      “I am.”

      He walked through the building, closed the front door. Ava waited until the charged atmosphere cooled down. “Okay, then, shall we take the tour?”

      “Why not?” Noah said. “But don’t think for a minute that I’m going to simply wave goodbye to my daughter and tell her, ‘Take care of yourself, kid.’”

      His simple words, “take care of yourself,” brought back fresh memories of that painful night when he’d said them to her. A glitzy downtown Charlotte bar followed by a night of... She’d never forgotten. That low voice, that sense of desperation in his tone. Those words of regret spoken in the middle of the night. “Take care of yourself.” He’d whispered those words in her ear just before the same voice had said, “I’m sorry. You deserve better than a guy like me. I should have told you. I’m married, for now at least. Maybe once I get things straightened out...”

      “Just go,” she’d said, letting anger and shame rule her reaction. Regret washed over her as she pulled the bedsheets close around her chest. She’d turned her head, let the tears slip onto her pillow. “Just go, Noah. Go.”

      It hurt to look at him now. The memory had haunted her too long. She couldn’t stare into his piercing eyes and see the man who’d caused her to be someone she’d never been before on a night that turned out to be the beginning of the most soul-searching journey of her life.

      But time had changed them both, and today the issue was about Sawyer. Noah’s attention was fixed firmly on his daughter, as it should be. So much so that other than a few tense silences, he hadn’t shown any sign of knowing who Ava was, or who she’d been.

       CHAPTER THREE

      SOMETHING ABOUT AVA was strangely familiar. Noah felt as if he’d known her before, but that wasn’t likely. She wasn’t the sort of woman he was drawn to, though lately his “sort of woman” was becoming a mystery.

      When dating, he tended toward women who had a laid-back personality, were quick to laugh and appreciated his sense of humor. Since his divorce, Noah had dated several women. Coincidentally, three of them had been named Ava. This attractive, but opinionated woman seemed to judge him with a glance and a word. No way would he have dated a woman who sweated the small stuff.

      In one moment Ava had gone from being in control, calm, even kind—a woman who searched for solutions to difficult problems. Now she almost seemed like someone who was hiding something. First, she was looking him directly in the eye and then she was looking anywhere that didn’t include him in her line of sight. Had she changed her mind about keeping Sawyer? That would be okay with him. He would take his daughter home, if he could get her to go.

      He’d been so relieved when the Chapel Hill cop called with information on Sawyer. So, on practically no sleep, he’d left his house figuring he’d race to this little town of Holly River, pick up his daughter and give this parenting gig another try. He’d told Mrs. Filmore to plan on both of them being home for dinner.

      He knew Sawyer didn’t care for the housekeeper, but she’d never liked any of the women he’d hired, four in the last year to be exact. They’d all come highly recommended. Strict? Conscientious? Sure. That’s what he’d wanted in a competent housekeeper, one who wouldn’t let his clever daughter make the rules, and then bend them when they didn’t suit her. He’d wanted a kindly grandmother type who could relate to Sawyer on a personal level but be able to wield a strong sword when Sawyer’s lack of discipline called for it.

      Now he was on the verge of firing this latest woman who, Sawyer claimed, as always, was more wielder than relater. Maybe he’d keep Mrs. Filmore on until Sawyer decided life at the Sawtooth Children’s Home wasn’t any more to her liking than life in Chapel Hill. In fact, she might decide it was far worse. This change of heart might happen in less than a week.

      True, Sawyer didn’t care for the housekeepers, and she’d probably be happier if the only person she had to answer to was her dad, but she’d never complained about the many material things her absentee father’s job provided. She couldn’t have the lifestyle she’d grown used to if she had a parent who was home all the time sitting behind a desk, but couldn’t make enough money to keep paying off a fancy home in an exclusive suburb and credit card debt. Sawyer needed to learn the meaning of trade-offs. He sure as heck had, and it was time his daughter mastered one of life’s toughest lessons.

      And besides, he’d seen enough of Ava Cahill to know that she wasn’t going to be a pushover. Until he’d actually looked at her and found her reluctant to look back, he’d decided Ava was strong, authoritative and the most powerful figure at the home. Her word was apparently law, and Sawyer might decide in a few days that she couldn’t cope with the regimented lifestyle of Ava’s rules.

      As the threesome prepared for the tour, Ava seemed to have returned to her role as by-the-book administrator. She hadn’t looked at Noah since they went out the front door of the administration


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