Page 11 of Colorado Christmas Carol

“Yes. He has a branch office here, and he comes two days a week.” He gave Duke the doctor’s name and the phone number of his office. “Your daughter has a very adult attitude toward emergencies,” he added with a smile at Mellie. “Your wife, I daresay, may need sedation.”

Duke just chuckled. “We’ll take that under advisement,” he replied, not correcting the doctor.

Mellie was finished with the breathing treatment. Duke helped her down from the exam table.

“Get that rescue inhaler asap,” the doctor recommended. “The pollen count is pretty bad, even though it’s practically winter.”

“We’ll do that. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

* * *

“Now. Tell me all about it,” Duke said when they were in the car. He’d actually arranged with someone to pick up Essa’s car and deliver it to the hotel and leave the keys at the desk. And this time, Mellie was in the back seat and Essa was in the passenger seat.

“I started coughing and couldn’t stop,” Mellie explained. “Essa tried to call you, but your phone didn’t answer, so she drove me to the hospital.”

“No ambulance?” he asked Essa.

“It was ten minutes away, according to dispatch, and I was pretty sure we didn’t have ten minutes,” she replied. “I got her there very quickly. I’m just so sorry . . . !”

“Nobody knew she had asthma,” Duke interrupted. “And you very likely saved her life.”

“Yes, you did,” Mellie said. She beamed at the woman in the front seat. “You saved me.”

“I just did what anybody else would have done,” Essa said.

“You’d be amazed at how many people wouldn’t have done it,” Duke said somberly. “I’ve been in law enforcement most of my life. You can’t even imagine the things I’ve seen. Compassion in our modern society is a dying thing.”

“Not here,” Essa replied, feeling warm inside as Mellie laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks for what you did,” Mellie told her.

Essa squeezed the little hand and smiled. “You’re most welcome.”

Half the hotel staff poured into the lobby when Duke came in with Essa and his daughter, all relieved that the child was all right.

* * *

Duke just shook his head as they all went back to work. “It’s not like this where we live,” he told Essa.

She grinned. “That’s why I live here,” she replied.

“I wish we did,” Mellie said on a sigh.

Duke didn’t answer her. He just smiled.

* * *

They drove to the site of the forensics workshop the next Saturday. Duke was distracted, nobody knew why. Mellie talked nonstop about what Dean had taught them at the archaeology site.

“I think I might like to do archaeology,” Mellie said enthusiastically.

“Me, too.” Essa sighed. “But I’m not smart enough.”

“You are so,” Mellie said firmly. “You can do anything you want to.”

Essa smiled at her. “You’re very good for my self-esteem.”

“Only when she isn’t brooding about the dog we don’t have,” Duke muttered as he drove.

“We could have just a little dog,” Mellie warmed to her subject. “They wouldn’t know he was in the apartment!”

“It’s in the lease, honey,” he told her. “No pets. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t have a dog, either.” Essa sighed. “The hotel won’t allow it.”

“I saw an old lady with a little puffy dog going up the stairs,” Mellie told her.

“Oh, that’s Mrs. Greeley,” Essa replied. She smiled. “She owns the hotel. She comes every other month to make sure the place is running well and everybody’s happy with their jobs. And their salaries. She’s one of a kind,” she added softly.

“You like old people?” Mellie asked.

“Very much,” Essa replied. “You can learn so much just by listening to them!”

“You do that?” Duke asked.

“I go to the nursing home on holidays and take cookies and pies and cakes,” she said. “The manager donates them. There are so many who don’t have family anymore. All they need is somebody to just listen to them.”

Duke nodded. “One of our agents is retired from the CIA. Boy, can he tell some stories!”

“I’ll bet.” Essa chuckled. “We have a retired Texas Ranger, and she’s got lots of those, too!”

“A Texas Ranger. Wow!” Mellie said.

“I wish we had time to visit,” Duke said. “But I only have a few more days to wrap up my part of this case. Which my boss doesn’t think I’m doing.”

“Why doesn’t he come here and do it if he doesn’t trust his people?” Essa asked, outraged on Duke’s behalf.

He noted that and felt warm inside. She was getting to him. The more he learned about her, the more she attracted him. And her actions with Mellie after the asthma attack were the biggest draw of all. She was one in a million. Stupid local men, he thought, letting a treasure like Essa get away.

He thought of his late wife and how different she was from Essa.

The pregnancy had been an accident. She’d wanted to end it, but Duke dug in his heels.

He wanted the baby more than anything. She could have it, and he’d have to raise it, she said hatefully.

She wasn’t being tied down to diapers and bottles and sleepless nights. Fine, Duke had said. He’d do all that.

And he had. Her death several years ago hadn’t been the tragedy most people thought it was.

She’d had nothing to do with her little girl.

She was irritated by the noise the child made, reluctant even to change a diaper, and she hated the constant crying.

The child cried when she was wet or hungry, but his wife never seemed to connect those things.

He held down a full-time job and was a full-time dad, while his wife went out with her girlfriends day and night and left her child in his care.

He never understood why she was so angry.

When she got cancer she refused treatment.

She had nothing to do with Mellie even then.

Duke buried her with her parents. Mellie was only five years old.

Then he thought of Essa, rushing his daughter to the hospital, staying with her, bawling because she was afraid of what might happen to Mellie—that was incredible to him.

He rarely dated, because once women discovered that he had a child, they wanted nothing to do with him. The fact that he was a widower didn’t even give him points, because any woman he married would be raising another woman’s child.

His own wife didn’t want her own child. But here was Essa, who adored Mellie, and it showed. It was also mutual.

“One thing, and we won’t discuss this outside the car,” Duke said when they got to the site of the workshop and parked.

“Nobody leaves the premises with Dean. Is that clear? Under no circumstances whatsoever,” he added, emphasizing every single word.

“And we didn’t know he’d be here, also. Got that? ”

They both nodded. Essa wanted to ask questions, but Duke’s expression deterred her.

Mellie and Essa exchanged puzzled looks, but they didn’t argue.

Mellie was left with a prearranged babysitter at the site, to her utter disgust, but Duke was firm. He also cautioned the woman, who was middle-aged and formidable, that Mellie was not to leave the premises without his express, personal consent. In person. She smiled and promised.

Duke escorted Essa to the workshop, handing her a program as he picked up one for himself.

“They have some heavy hitters here,” he murmured as they scanned the handout while participants came into the room around them. “One of these is a former FBI forensics supervisor.”

“Do you know him?” she asked.

He looked down at her, smiling. “No. I was just a case agent when he was there.”

She smiled back. He was so incredibly handsome. It made her heart sing just to look at him.

They stared at each other until a loud cough interrupted them.

They turned.

“Dean?!” Essa said, giving a good impression of absolute surprise. “What are you doing here?!”

He chuckled. “I can’t get enough of these workshops. Why are you here?”

“I didn’t get to go to the one at my hotel. Duke saw this one and offered to drive me.” She made a face. “My car won’t make it past garages. I’d be on the side of the road hoping for rescue if I’d tried to drive here.”

“Well it’s good to see you,” he replied. “Did you bring Mellie?”

“She’s with a babysitter, complaining that we shut her out of essential learning for her future.” Duke chuckled. “She wants to be a forensic anthropologist. She said you impressed her that much,” he added with an easy smile.

Dean flushed. “She really said that? About me? Gosh.” He looked odd. “Tell her thank you. That’s, well . . . that’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever had.”

There was a speaker at the podium, calling for quiet.

“Better get to my seat,” Dean said. “Want to get coffee at the break? They have a nice café attached to the hotel across the street.”

“Good idea,” Duke said. “We’ll wait for you at the intermission.”

“Good deal,” Dean said, smiling at them both.

They all sat down, and the program started.

* * *

The workshop went on until lunch. The first hour was a presentation by a blood spatter expert who explained the patterns and how they helped forensics examiners pinpoint the particulars of an assault in murders.

The second hour was a talk by the man from the FBI forensic lab and included information about how even a grain of pollen or a fleck of paint could help solve a crime.

Then it was time for lunch.

“My head is swimming,” Essa said, shaking it as they left the auditorium. “I’ve never in my life been more fascinated with anything.”

“It really is fascinating,” Dean said. “I’ve studied it for years and it never gets old.” He had a faraway look. “It’s just . . . well, sometimes I seem to lose myself in it.”

“That’s not a bad thing when it’s your career,” Essa teased.

He chuckled self-consciously. “I suppose so.”

Mellie spotted them and jumped up leaving the babysitter behind, who quickly disappeared. “It’s you!” she exclaimed when she saw Dean. She ran to him. “I didn’t know you’d be here! I’m so happy to see you!”

He looked very strange, as if he were choking on something. He swallowed hard. “Mellie,” he replied, and smiled. “It’s good to see you, too. How are you?”