Prett parked in front of the county sheriff building. He and his brothers exited the truck, and Jane hurried to match their strides to the front door.

Holly had called soon after lunch. All Prett could discern through her sobbing was that she'd been arrested.

They found her sitting in the lobby, chatting with a deputy. Holly had calmed down in the twenty minutes it had taken them to arrive. But when she saw Prett, her relief was palpable. She threw herself into his arms, tears renewed. Prett patted her head.

"She's free to go," the deputy said as he stood. "I spoke with the county attorney, and she says it's a civil matter. She won't file charges."

"Charges for what, Joe?" Prett asked. "What's this all about?"

Holly lifted her head. "Lee—" she choked out before dissolving into sobs again. She buried her face in Prett's shoulder.

"Hell, Prett," Joe the deputy said, "her husband reported his car stolen. We got an anonymous tip saying it had been spotted at Country Skillet."

Prett and Val exchanged glances.

"Denver police confirmed the theft report, and I stopped Ms. Littleton here when she pulled onto Highway 14," the deputy continued. "The car's not registered in her name, just her husband's. But like I said, the county attorney says it's a civil matter. Seeing as it's a marital property dispute. Still have to impound the car, though." He shrugged. "And we can't release it to anyone but the registered owner. Her husband."

"No problem," Prett growled. "The letch can come get it himself."

***

"But I promised Cady I'd get there before two," Holly said, her voice quaking. She sat between Jane and Prett in the truck's back seat as they returned to Prairie Creek. "Her class starts at three. I don't want to be late."

"You're in no shape to Nana-sit right now," Prett said. "Vel will drop us off at home and he'll take your place till you've collected yourself. We don't need GiGi riled up more than usual."

Holly twisted her purse's leather strap. "Why would Lee do that? Why would he say it was stolen?"

"Do you want me to answer that?" Prett didn't mask his anger.

Holly ignored him, now wrapping the leather strap around and around her hand. "What am I going to do about a car?"

"Buy your own."

"But I don't have any money. Lee cut off my cards, too. I've got nothing."

"You don't have 'nothing'. I've withheld six years of your Christmas checks, remember? It's in the trust. Around eighty grand now. Enough to buy one sweet ride."

"Lee was so mad when you stopped sending that money."

"I'm sorry he took it out on you," Prett said more gently. "But I wasn't going to fund his abuse. I told you that."

Holly quieted her hands. "Yes, you did," she whispered.

The anger left Prett's face, replaced by sorrow and sympathy. "Holly," he said, with such emotion it reminded Jane of the night he'd said her own name like that.

Holly looked at Prett and immediately crumpled. She put her head onto his shoulder, sobbing anew.

***

"Oh! It's wonderful!" Holly exclaimed when she stepped into the mens' apartment with Val and Jane.

Danny had dropped them off just as a crew arrived to measure for the hotel's kitchen countertops. Prett had left Val in charge of the women while he'd gone to deal with the fabricators.

"I knew it would be," Holly gushed, looking around the living room. "Oh my gosh, is that the sandpit at Nana's?" She hurried closer to the black and white snowscape hanging on the wall by Prett's bedroom door. "Did you take this?" she asked of Val.

Jane recognized the flash of panic that crossed Val's face. Like when Prett disappeared. And when I cut my lip.

Val answered with a nonchalant nod.

"I knew it." Holly turned back to the photo. "You make everything beautiful. I always said you were gifted." She gave Val a beaming smile.

He colored. Glancing at Jane, he indicated he would go help Prett and exited the apartment, leaving the women alone.

They smiled awkwardly at each other a few moments before Jane offered, "I can give you a tour."

"That would be great," Holly said. "This place has been such a mystery to us. The guys never let anyone in."

"So I've heard." Jane started with Prett's bedroom, relating how she'd just spent several days laid up there.

"Oh, you poor thing," Holly said with genuine sympathy. "P.J.'s so good, though, isn't he? Once I had a miserable cold and he brought me chicken noodle soup and rented some DVDs. He even watched them with me." She ran her finger on the master bath's marble countertop. "But that was before I was married."

Change the subject before she starts crying again. Jane led her through the rest of the rooms, continuing her commentary on the apartment's features.

"Oh my gosh!" Holly exclaimed when they entered the dining area. She scurried around the table to stare at the black-ink botanical illustrations hung on the wall. "I can't believe it. He framed them." She examined them closely before glancing at Jane. "Val and I did these at Mahoney State Park. Fourth of July picnic." She added sadly, "We don't do that anymore." She touched the frames. "I drew this one and this one. Val did these two. I don't remember the others for sure."

"You've known the guys a long time," Jane said.

"What? Oh, yeah." Holly tucked a blonde strand behind her ear. "I remember the first time I met them. At their mom's funeral. In Kentucky. I was six or seven. They had this rope tied with knots that they used as a swing over the pond. They showed me how to swing out and drop in the water. Except when I tried it, I let go too soon and landed on the bank."

Holly's face winced with the memory. "I sprained both my ankles. But I swear, I had barely landed on the ground when P.J. just scooped me up and ran me into the house." She giggled. "He's always been my hero for that. But I don't think my mom's ever quite forgiven him. Wasn't his fault, though. That I got scared and let go too soon."

Jane showed her the remainder of the apartment. "This is an absolute Gingery paradise!" Holly said of the downstairs theater and game room. "Why haven't they ever had us over? It doesn't even look like they use it. Do they?"

"Not since I've been here."

"I think they've gotten more introverted the past few years," Holly said with sadness. "Even Danny-hop. His time in Iraq must have changed him more than I thought."

"Danny-hop?"

Holly formed one hand into the sign for 'd' and hopped it across her palm. "Danny's sign language name. His initial and the sign for 'rabbit'. Because he couldn't ever sit still as a kid. Always hopping around like a bunny." She grinned, her blue eyes brightening with merriment. "You ever need to remind him he's not all that, just call him Danny-hop."

Jane grinned back. I've seen the guys call him that. No wonder he wouldn't tell me what it meant.

The women returned to the apartment and settled in the living room.

"It's really peaceful here. The colors are so serene." Holly sighed. "Mom and Dad were driving me nuts. Treating me like I was five again. I'm so glad P.J. suggested I stay with Nana instead. Till I figure out what I'm going to do." Her face fell at the reminder.

"Cady has a full schedule this semester," Jane said in an effort to change the subject. "I know Prett's glad someone will be there when she isn't."

"Are you dating him? P.J.?"

"No!" Jane moderated her tone. "No. He just hired me to paint."

"Oh," Holly said, sounding unconvinced. Or disappointed.

"Why?"

"Oh, no reason. Just wondered."

Jane couldn't let the opportunity pass. "It's because he doesn't date, right? Because he never brings a girl home."

"Yeah. We thought you might already be married to him."

"What!"

Holly giggled. "Well, you have to understand. The first time P.J. brought a girl home, she was his wife."

"He told me about getting married spur-of-the-moment."

"That's not the half of it. When he brought her to meet the family they'd already been married two years and no one knew it."

"You're kidding."

Holly shook her head. "We met her at his grandpa's funeral. P.J. comes in the door with this girl. And she was very pregnant." Holly curved her hands up and over her belly in demonstration. "Auntie Meg was mortified. She didn't believe him when he said they were married. But he'd brought the license to prove it. They'd gotten married two years before and hadn't told a soul. Can you imagine! My mom's never gotten over that, either."

"What was she like—his wife?"

"Oh, gosh." Holly furrowed her brows as she thought. "I only met her the two times. She had long, dark hair. Tall. Pretty enough. Except...how do I say it? She had these hard edges. Hardly talked to anyone. And when she did she sounded defensive. Angry. I thought maybe it was because we were all shocked about the marriage and the baby, but she was still like that at Auntie Meg's funeral, too. Truthfully, I never liked her. I thought P.J. could've done better." Holly dropped her shoulders. "That's terrible of me to say."

"How is it you've known them for so long?"

Holly's forehead wrinkled. "Well, they're—"

The apartment door opened and Holly startled, her eyes wide. Jane turned to see Prett enter, and when she looked at Holly again, the latter had visibly relaxed once more.

"I have a job for you ladies," Prett informed them. "Val needs help taking down the Christmas decorations."

"Absolutely!" Holly jumped up from the sofa. "That'll be so much fun, won't it, Jane?"

"It's usually more fun to put decorations up than down," Jane countered.

"Sure it is, but putting them away makes you look forward to putting them up again next year." Holly clapped her hands. "And you get to remember all the great Christmases of the past all over again."

She was true to her word, for as they packed away lights and ornaments, Holly chattered happily about her childhood memories. Jane shared a few of her own. Prett and Val remained quiet.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And comment! I love comments!😊

Fun Fact: Sometimes the smallest event can have a huge impact on a person. Prett commented on that in an earlier chapter when he told Jane we're all here for a purpose, even if we don't know what, yet. I've long been fascinated by this theme due to my own experience.

I was ill all through my high school years. (I had cancer, but the numerous doctors I saw didn't figure that out till much later.) As a consequence, I spent most of my teenage years sick in bed.(Which gave me ample opportunity to daydream stories. 😁) On the rare day I felt well enough to attend school, I was ostracized. I was the girl no one knew, the one no one talked to unless it was to bully me.  

One day as I was walking to class—as usual my head down, my books clutched to my chest—my brother's friend spotted me. Bobby (and my brother) had already graduated and moved on to college, so I was surprised to see him. He started walking with me, saying he had popped in to say hi to his former teachers since he was in town. He asked about me, and we chatted until we came to the end of the hall, where he went his way and I went mine. 

A simple one- or two-minute conversation that I'm sure he thought nothing about, and decades later would never remember. But I do. I remember how this college-age guy took the time to talk to a lowly high school freshman who no one else ever noticed. I already knew Bobby was kind and considerate, but this cemented in my mind that he was the nicest guy in the world. I suppose Prett is based in part on him, for he also has the same kind heart. So here's to you, Bobby Beckman, where ever you are. 💖

Why bring up this story? Well, Holly's little anecdote about her sprained ankles had a profound effect on a couple others that day. A young Val saw his older brother scoop her up and dash her to the house to receive aid. 

Always rescue the girl. That is the lesson ten-year-old Val learned. After all, it was his older brother who jumped in to save the pretty blue-eyed blonde, not her own older brothers, who stood around dumbfounded. 

Always rescue the girl. You'll note Val did just that a couple chapters back. 😉 

And he gets another opportunity to rescue the girl—but to say more would contain spoilers. 

The Holly-sprains-her-ankles incident also affected Holly's older sister.  Adair Gingery has a much different spin on those events, one not so sweet and carefree. But that's Adair's story, which is an entirely different book than "Marvels" and one that I have yet to write. 😅

Be sure to vote and comment! ⤵