High Country Cop. Cynthia Thomason

North Carolina and the small paychecks Miranda earned at the hot dog stand outside of town.

      As her father was being wheeled into the ambulance on a stretcher, Miranda had walked beside him, holding his hand. “Be strong, Daddy. Don’t leave us. I’ll make Raymond Cahill pay for what he did to you.”

      And what had Raymond done exactly? He’d offered Warren a substantial raise if he would work in the boiler plant of the paper mill, a position that carried some degree of risk due to the asbestos lining used in the pulp boilers. The last man who’d held the job had retired with no ill effects, and to give his family a better life, Warren had decided the benefits outweighed the risks.

      Only he hadn’t been as lucky as the man before him. After ten years working next to those boilers, asbestos dust and tiny filings settled in his lungs and finally ended his job at the mill and now his life. And there wasn’t really anything Miranda could do in the way of retaliation. The personnel manager at the plant showed her a letter her father had signed agreeing to the terms of his higher-paying job and acknowledging the risks.

      “Is there anything else you’d like to ask me, Loreen, Miranda?” Dr. Jackson said. “If you’re wondering if Warren is comfortable, I can assure you he is. And there should be relief in knowing he won’t be struggling much longer.”

      Miranda had stood, placed her hand under her mother’s elbow and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go sit with him, Mama.”

      Like a wooden statue, Loreen had managed to slide one foot in front of the other, her practical shoes scraping on the polished linoleum of the hospital floor. They’d gone only a few steps when Miranda saw a man coming toward them. Not just any man. No, this was Raymond Cahill, the man she hated most in the world. Raymond was approaching them with a purposeful stride, and he had an envelope in his hand. What was inside that envelope changed everything.

      “Hi, Mom!” Emily bounded into the car, her natural energy seeming to fill the entire space.

      “How was your afternoon?” Miranda asked. She reached into her wallet, handed the young woman she’d hired to watch Emily a few five dollar bills, and thanked her.

      “Anytime, Mrs. Larson,” the girl said. “Emily is such a bright, curious child.”

      “It was so neat,” Emily began as soon as Miranda turned around in the facility parking lot. “You knew about the bird, right? Well, the doctor fixed him. I mean he can’t fly yet, but he will. Right now he’s in a cage and his wing is bandaged, but he’ll be fine soon. I got to watch the whole thing.”

      Miranda headed onto the road that led to the Hummingbird Inn. “I would say you had a great afternoon, Em.”

      “I did. Now I know for sure that I want to be a veterinarian when I grow up. Veterinarians are so smart. They are the only doctors whose patients can’t tell them what’s wrong. They just have to know.”

      “I suppose that’s true. I think you would make a wonderful vet, honey.”

      “Are we going back to our cottage now?” Emily asked.

      “Yes. I picked up something for supper, and I thought we’d stay in tonight.”

      “That’s okay. We can watch a movie.”

      Miranda’s cell phone rang, and she checked the car’s digital screen for the name of the caller. Don’t do it, Miranda, she said to herself. Don’t show your impatience in front of Emily. Unfortunately the last person she wanted to talk to was her ex-husband, Donny.

      “It’s Daddy,” Emily squealed. “I want to talk to him.”

      “Just a minute,” Miranda said. “Let me see what he wants first.” She took Donny off speaker and pressed the connect button on her cell. “Hi, Donny.”

      “Hello, ’Randa. I was grateful to get the text you sent me informing me that you and Emily had arrived safely in Holly River. I must say, though, I would have preferred a phone call.”

      Never a compliment without an accompanying dig. “We were busy unpacking, Donny. I meant to call you later, but...”

      “Never mind. The important thing is that you’re there. Have you seen your cousin?”

      “Yes. He’s got more than a few challenges to face. I’m going to do all I can for him.”

      “That’s commendable, really.”

      Miranda looked for a hint of sarcasm in Donny’s tone. He hadn’t approved of Miranda’s bringing Emily to Holly River. Donny had never thought much of Lawton, and like most people, he’d thought even less of Dale. He’d warned Miranda to keep a sharp eye on their daughter when she was around those “good-for-nothings.”

      “I’ll be with her at all times, Donny,” Miranda had told him, though she never once doubted that she could trust Emily with Lawton. After all, there had been a time or two when Miranda entrusted her own safety to her cousin, and he never failed her.

      “How did you find the old hometown?” Donny asked.

      “The same as when I left it.” In fourteen years, she’d been back only a couple of times. Once was when she helped her mother pack up her belongings for the move to her condo in Hickory, and the second was when the sale of the Liggett cabin went through. Both times Miranda did what she had to do and left as soon as possible. She hadn’t been ready to face her grief yet, or the decision she’d made with regard to Carter. “There is still a warm feeling here...” she started to say.

      “Wouldn’t be for me,” Donny said. “I was glad to leave that town in my rearview. Have you seen anyone you know? Old friends maybe?”