Page 12 of Colorado Christmas Carol

“I’m great! Are you learning a lot here for your job?” She grimaced. “Sorry. I guess you don’t really need to learn a lot more. You’re awfully smart!” She looked up at him and grinned.

He was breathless. He’d been undervalued by most people in his life, abused by some, ignored by others. But here were these two females, a child and a woman, and they both looked up to him. In fact, they liked him, and it showed. He didn’t know how to respond to praise. He’d rarely ever had any.

“You’re embarrassing the man, Mellie,” Duke chided, but gently.

“No!” Dean exclaimed, catching his breath. “Oh, no, it’s not that. You see, I don’t . . . well, most people don’t like me . . .”

“Why not?” Mellie asked belligerently. “They must not be nice people, then.”

“Absolutely,” Essa agreed. “You’re just different. Smarter than most people, and that makes them jealous, so they ignore you or put you down.”

Duke’s eyebrows arched. “You’re more perceptive than most people.”

“Indeed you are,” Dean added. He smiled at her. “I wish I’d known you—someone like you,” he corrected gently, “when I was young.”

She cocked her head, puzzled, but smiling. He looked young. Perhaps he felt older than he looked. “Thank you. But, why?”

He drew in a breath. “That’s a question with a very long answer.”

“And I’m starved. Lunch?” Duke asked his companions.

“Oh, Daddy, you’re always starved,” Mellie teased.

“Said the girl who ate a whole sub sandwich that she was supposed to half with me,” he muttered.

She grinned and hugged him. “You’re just the best daddy! And I was really hungry,” she added with a chuckle.

Dean, watching, grimaced. It was acutely painful to him to see what a normal family was like.

It pointed out poignantly what he’d missed, what he’d lost. His eyes went from Essa to Mellie, and he hated what was inside him, what would be dangerous to them.

No matter what, he had to keep himself together.

He didn’t dare let loose the demons inside. He had to fight them . . . !

“Are you okay?” Mellie asked him, worried by the expression on his face.

The child’s concern hurt him. He managed a smile for her. “I’m fine. I’m really fine,” he emphasized. “I’m just starving,” he teased.

She grinned at him.

He grinned back, touched.

* * *

They ate sandwiches and then ice cream at a table in the hotel where the workshop was being held.

“This stuff is really interesting,” Essa said between bites. “I’ve read about things like blood spatter and facial reconstruction for years, but it’s different when you get to see it in person.”

“It really is,” Duke said. “I used to do it for a living. Sometimes I miss that part of my life. Now all I do is track down fleeing fugitives and hunt deadbeat husbands,” he added with faint distaste.

Dean seemed to relax a little as he said that. He laughed softly. “I suppose that would get boring. What do you do?”

“I’m with a detective agency,” he said, sighing. “I thought it would be as exciting as working for the bureau.” He looked up and grimaced. “It isn’t.”

“His boss is mean to him, too,” Mellie said belligerently.

“Mellie,” her dad cautioned.

“But he is,” she argued. “You shouldn’t let him yell at you, Daddy. You should yell back.”

“Yelling rarely solves problems,” Dean commented absently. “In fact, it often precipitates them.”

“Absolutely,” Duke agreed. “And neither does beating a child,” he added coldly, his eyes on his coffee.

Dean seemed to draw into himself, as if he could feel welts across his body. In fact, he could. It brought back horrible memories of his insane stepmother, who was the soul of kindness around his own father but cruel when nobody was looking.

“Children can be reasoned with,” Dean agreed after a minute. “Hitting children only provokes resentment and injustice. And those often translate into crimes.” He glanced at Duke with a wan smile. “I imagine you’ve run across a number of victims of child abuse who became murderers.”

“All too many,” Duke said, and his voice softened as he looked at Dean. “The world can be a cruel place to a child.”

“Not this one,” Mellie sang out, laughing. “Daddy never hits me.” She glowered at him. “But he takes away my video games.”

“Just punishment,” Duke said with a grin. “Effective, too!”

Everyone laughed.

Dean finished his coffee. “If you aren’t happy in your job, you really should find one that does make you happy,” he told Duke. “Life is . . . very short.”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “Short, indeed. And good advice, also.”

Dean flushed with pleasure. These people made him feel of worth.

He liked them. It made what he’d done harder.

It made living with it almost impossible.

He’d done something insane in response to two insane acts.

He hadn’t meant to. It had been impossible to draw back, to stop himself. It had been an act of passion.

He’d thought about Essa and Mellie since he’d left the hotel. He’d missed both of them. He could hardly believe it when they walked into this hotel. He’d been looking for a way to get back to them. And here they were.

But now he was in a quandary. He didn’t know what to do. Wasn’t it dangerous for them to be near him? If he’d done something totally insane once, couldn’t he do it twice? Could he stop himself?

He didn’t want to hurt either of them. He hated himself. He didn’t understand the stranger who’d taken over his body. How was he going to go on living? He looked at the child and shivered inside.