Raising the burning red torches he held, the leader of the ski patrol moved forward. About every ten or fifteen feet, another skier followed. Like a mother duck guiding her ducklings, he led them in slow sweeps back and forth across the manicured ski run.
“Ohh,” Rue breathed. “It’s so pretty.”
The line grew as the seventy skiers created the growing red swirl down the slope. Eventually, it was their turn. The driver, seated behind them, turned on his muted green and white lights and they began their own slow descent down the mountain. Eb barely noticed the biting cold, thrilling at the experience. Unable to resist, he leaned over Rue’s head and said to Sandra, “Iloveyou.”
“I love you too, Daddy,” Rue said without looking up.
Sandra’s eyes lit with humor. “Me too.”
“I want to marry you.” The words had just slipped out, and Eb tried not to show his surprise. This wasnotthe way he’d meant to propose. He’d wanted to do something grand and special. Something memorable.
“When?” Sandra surprised him by asking.
“Does it mean you will?”
She answered him with a kiss.
“Daddy! Miss Sandra! You’re squishing me.” Rue pushed them apart but then looked up at Sandra. “Are you going to be my mommy?”
“You already have a mommy, sweetheart. I could be Mama Sandra.”
Rue scrunched up her face. “No. I want you for my mommy.” She leaned forward and pointed at the holiday lights at the bottom where staff had set up a stand for Eb’s speech. Rue asked, “Can I learn to ski?”
“When you’re ready, yes.” Eb met Sandra’s gaze and said, “Soon?”
“Is soon enough to get a tax deduction too soon?”
His heart pounding, he stared at her for a second. “Really?”
Her kissable lips curved up in a slight smile.I love you, she mouthed.
If he could have, Eb would have pulled her onto his lap again and thoroughly kissed her. They wereengaged, after all, and he wanted to shout it to the world. Instead, he took his cue from Rue, who was learning simple American Sign Language words, and made the symbol forI love you,followed by tapping his gloved fingertips together for the wordmore.
Sandra gave an amused groan and mouthed,You wait, and her gaze dropped to his lips. The light in her eyes warmed him right to his toes. How he loved this woman!
“Everyone’s singing.” Rue looked up at him. “But it’s not a Christmas song.”
Then he recognized it as the old Foo Fighters’ songMy Hero.
Eb groaned, “Oh, no, she didn’t.”
“I love it,” Sandra cried. “So many heroes are ordinary folks. But don’t worry about the notoriety. It’ll pass. People treat you normally again, don’t they?”
“They did until this reminds them of it.”
“It’s okay if everyone knows you’re my hero, Daddy.” Rue grinned up at him.
Eb’s throat tightened. It was the cheesiest and sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him.
Gretchen, bundled in a faux fur coat, approached them. “You ready, Eb?”
Giving a resigned sigh, he nodded. Self-conscious, he stepped down and then reached up to help Rue and then Sandra from the sleigh. He’d insisted they be allowed to accompany him not only on the Santa Run but during his speech. He could speak well enough in front of a small group for training, but this crowd was way bigger than any he’d ever presented to. And those hadn’t had cameras. What if he froze up?
Sandra’s gloved hand slid into his, and Rue took his other hand. With these two at his side, he could face anything. Even another gunman.
* * *
With pride,Sandra watched as Eb overcame his stage fright and gave a lovely speech. This tradition of the Santa Run was all about giving to the people in the community and watching out for each other. He’d refused to give any interviews about the shooting, saying it was for the people who’d been in the conference room.
