Donald looked nervous standing over them with two large packages, one in each arm and two smaller ones on top. "Here's a couple of presents," he said to the children. "These two on top are from Uncle Bud." Emily went over and grabbed the smaller ones, while he bent awkwardly, placing the others beside the tree.

He stood for a moment, looking as if he might bolt, but then took a chair. "Nice decorations," he said stiffly. It was an uncomfortable moment with him trying to make a normal conversation.

"Emily helped us chop down the tree," Nathan said on his knees now, grinning so wide you could see his back teeth.

"We made some treats," Maria said. She jumped up, took the plate of various desserts from the coffee table and brought it to him.

He stared at the selection, and it appeared he would turn her down, but then he picked up a sugar cookie.

"My favorite too," Maria said, taking one herself as she returned the plate, and took seat.

He nodded, holding it over his free hand so no crumbs would fall on his dress pants.

"I... I remember how my mother used to decorate a tree with popcorn and candy canes." His voice came unexpectedly and everyone waited for his next words. "The year... uhm," he cleared his throat, "before she died, she bought me a bicycle. It was black, and shiny..." He stopped suddenly, a red shade spreading across his face.

Emily wondered if there was some hope for him, if he'd turned a new leaf. Grandmother Rezell once told her that there was a little good in everyone. Maybe this was it for him. At least he was making an effort.

Then, just like that, he stood. "Well, I'm meeting someone," he said, moving swiftly to the door.

Maria sat up and watched him walk away. "Merry Christmas, Father."

He stopped at the steps and turned back. The cookie sat like an orphan in his hands. Emily thought of the moment in the same way she pictured her grandfather in church, awkward, and wondering how he got there. "Merry Christmas."

They watched him disappear, and then turned without a word back to the fire.

Silent Night played in the background for some time before anyone spoke.

"You know he loves you," Emily said. She wasn't sure why she said that, except for the first time she thought that probably somewhere inside that crustiness he did. The problem was that he loved himself much more.

Maria nodded. "Probably so."

Nathan kept his eyes on the present his father left, and Emily couldn't resist. "So, you wanna open your father's present tonight?"

Nathan dashed for the tree before she could change her mind. He shoved Maria's over to her, and then pulled his to where he'd been sitting.

"Opening presents already?" Otto said as he walked in carrying gifts.

Maria jumped up, took the gifts out of his hands, and set them under the tree. "We're just opening the ones from Father," she said, returning to her spot on the floor.

Nathan had his hands ready, waiting for Emily's okay. "Us three made you a couple of plaques," he told Otto.

Emily chuckled and handed Otto his present. "Might as well join in. Go on, kids, start opening."

Nathan dug his fingernails into the wrapping and had his present open before Maria took the ribbon off hers. When he saw what it was, he leaped to his knees. "I got my train. Yippee! Remember, Mommy always promised me one of these?"

Maria looked over. "Yep, it's a Lionel, all right, just like she said."

Nathan was pulling out the cars and railroad tracks from the box as Maria lifted the lid off a large square container. "Uuh... a new playhouse. Just what I wanted. Oh, Emily, can you help me put it together?"

"Of course. But we'll do it up in your room, otherwise it'll be too bulky to carry up."

Otto held up his plaques, looking them over. "You made them yourselves, huh? You sure did a good job. Thank you."

Nathan looked up from his track building. "We put hooks in the back if you want to hang them."

"Oh, yes, I see," Otto said, turning them around. "And I've got the perfect spot to hang them."

Helen came in with ham sandwiches, and a plate of sliced vegetables and dip. Otto sat back, looking pleased at the three sitting by the fire, talking and listening to Christmas music. Later, after he left, the three curled up in their blankets.

"Emily," Maria said as Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer began to play, "this is the best, don't you think?"

"Yep, it really is. I think it's the best Christmas I've had for... uhm, thirteen years."

"Well, it's my best since Mommy was here."

Nathan yawned, pulling his blanket up under his chin. "Mine's even better since I got the train she promised."

Emily woke before the others. She stoked the fire, and then went to the kitchen to make a light breakfast. When she returned with a tray, the children were sitting with their presents piled around them.

Their excitement reminded her of how she felt when her grandmother used to walk in the kitchen early Christmas morning, already dressed for the day of turkey and pies, always with a gleam in her eyes when she saw her granddaughter sitting by the tree with her gifts set around her. After she died there was an attempt to keep the Christmas trend alive, but it finally dwindled into a present left by the fireplace that she knew came from Steven. Sometimes, he would help her find a tree, but if not, she would go herself. And then on Christmas Day Aunt Francine came to help with dinner. It was never the same as when Grandmother was there, but still, once the tree was up and decorated, the cookies and pies were made, even the men perked up.

Emily placed the tray on the coffee table.

After making an attempt at breakfast, they opened gifts, and then, washed and dressed, bundled up for a walk, each of them talking about their favorite memories of Christmas. The children had never seen snowfall before, and loved Emily's story of how she built a Santa Claus snowman with red hat and all in a spot where she could see it from her bedroom window. She told them when the sky cleared, moonlight glittered off its silver button and its spoon-mouth smiled up at her in the same way each year.

Later, as they dressed for dinner, Emily wondered if Donald would be there, waiting for them.

As they entered the formal dining room, she noticed only three places were set. She watched for the children's reaction when it was apparent their father wasn't joining them, but they didn't seem to notice.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

Although winter had been gentle in contrast to what Emily was used to, the final bite of the season came with lissome winds sweeping through the clouds and spreading them out like carpets of melted marshmallows. Beneath the wispy mist, a flock of hummingbirds fattened-up for the haul were beginning their migration north and it was apparent that Spring was on the way.

It looked like any other normal day in February, except for another migration of sorts that was taking place on the front lawn of Donald Schillings' estate. Emily wasn't fully awake when the familiar racket filtered in through her bedroom window. For a dreadful moment, she thought she was back at the farm.

She sat up and shook her head to clear the fuzz. Then she rolled out of bed, went to the window, and gazed upon two dozen or so cows enjoying the acres of endless green grass. Two Belgian shepherds a one just a mere pup a came like bullets through a section of the fence that was down. Emily remembered seeing someone in the area the day before near the entrance of the circular driveway. She thought it was Harold, although it had been too far away to be certain.

"Hey, Emily. Look at all the cows!" Nathan hollered over the sounds of the makeshift barnyard below. All at once, his precarious position from his bedroom window was more of a threat than the mess the animals were making.

Their bedrooms were set in an L-shape and she could see straight across to his window. She weighed the consequences of the bizarre scene that would anger her boss on one hand, but then on the bright side, she saw how it had lifted the boy's spirits.

"Nathan, get back from the window before you fall. Nathan! Nathan! What happened to your screen?"

"I'm going down," he said, and then disappeared inside.

Emily pulled on a robe, thrust her feet in a pair of slippers, and went after him. She made a quick stop to ring for Otto, and by the time she reached the front steps, Nathan was already running across the lawn.

"Nathan, don't get so close!" She was certain he was half-deaf, either that or more stubborn than any young boy his age should be. She was ready to go down and grab him by the collar and send him off to find Otto, but the thought was interrupted by two people on horseback coming around the tree line and over the fallen fence.

There was a boy, probably twelve or thirteen, and a young man around her age; both in cowboy hats, and boots . The boy steered his horse through the herd and began to force the cows back over the fallen fence. And when she saw that the young man was heading her way, she tightened the belt on her robe and made her way down the steps to meet him.

"Sorry about this," he said as he approached. "We'll get 'em out of here in no time."

"Probably a good idea," she said. She was still in a daze and wasn't sure if she should just stand back and let it happen, or demand an explanation.

"Well, I'd better get on with it," he said, and then turned his mount away.

Maria ran out onto the porch, climbed the railing, and dangled her legs over the edge.

Otto was right behind her, and stopped in the doorway, horrified. "For heaven's sakes. What in the world?"

"Isn't this something?" Maria said, smiling up at him.

He sighed and stuck his neck out, looking about, shaking his head. "Well, I'd better start making calls."

When the cows were out of the yard, the young man slid off his horse and strode over to join Emily. This time he shook her hand. "My name's George. George Trutman. The young guy helping out is my brother Jeramie. We live that-a-way, over the hill." He pointed beyond the downed fence to where the land gradually elevated into a hillside. "Say, it's nice to meet you, auuh..."

"It's Emily..." She almost slipped up and said Rezell, as if that even mattered any more. "I'm the nanny."

"Yeah, I thought as much."

Introductions over, they stood looking at the mess. Emily sensed there was something more troubling George Trutman. Finally, he sucked in his breath and began to tell her exactly what that was: "Sure wish I could say Schillings is getting what he deserves... but, what a jackass." He stopped, red-faced and embarrassed.

Emily held back a chuckle, waiting to hear more. "Go on, I'm listening."

He flashed a smile, pushing back his cowboy hat. With his blue eyes shining, and his blond hair curling around his ears, he looked rather pretty for an almost grown man. "I guess, what I should've said was that I'm afraid this... mess he caused will somehow work to his advantage."

"Uhm, George. I'm not meaning to take sides here, but to be honest, I mean, the cows are yours and they're in his yard."

George gave a half-hearted laugh that was a bit of a smirk. "Yeah, I see what you're saying, but you've got it wrong." He pointed to where the back-end of the cows were still moseying around the tree line. "See the fence that's been dismantled? Well, Schillings brought it down. It wasn't us."

She gasped. "What, he just up and tore it down? But... why?"

"Ha! He's claiming the surveyor made a mistake, even had his lawyer send us documents to back him up. But then without waiting until we could understand exactly how that happened, he's already ripping down the damn fence and planning to move it further onto our property. As if that'd make it official. Probably thought we'd just let 'em run us over."

George folded his arms stiffly, working trampled grass back up with the tips of his boot. He clinched his jaw, took in a long breath, and narrowed his eyes. "See over there?" He nodded in the direction of the back yard. "A couple of neighbors moved within a matter of months of each other. And even though I've got no proof of this, I think he forced them out."

"Really?"

"Really. And when we refused his offer to sell our place, he started this... this bullshit. I believe he's gonna try to force us out too."

"Why that's... horrible, forcing people off their own property." Emily glanced around to see where Nathan was. "Listen, George, to be honest, I'm not exactly a fan of the man myself."

"Yeah? Well... I can believe that. But you might be surprised how many people wouldn't agree with you. Then again, a lot of people only see the charming side of him. But me... I know different. One of these days, I tell you I'm gonna..." He glowered at the house, his nose twitching as if he were trying to sniff the man out. He was an inch or two shorter than Emily, nearly as thin as she was, and she thought it was amusing how much he reminded her of an over-zealous puppy trying to protect its ground. He took another breath and pulled his eyes back to her. "The guy gets me so dang worked-up sometimes I can't think straight."

She saw visions of Donald Schillings grabbing him by the neck as George continued to egg him on. "So, what does your family think of him?"

"Oh, my mother feels like I do. See, my grandpa knew Schillings when he was younger, and he didn't think much of him even back then. Now for my father, well... I guess his cushy nature doesn't help us any, probably even makes Schillings bolder."

Emily recalled Beatrice telling her that the Palace was going to be built on top of a hill. Schillings' estate was massive, but it was flat except for a few mounds that didn't amount to much. She scanned the neighbor's property, following the trees to the top of the hill, and then back down again, and contemplated whether to tell George what she suspected. But, if she told him, he'd find out about her stint at the whorehouse, and then she'd have to start explaining and defending herself. She looked at George's pretty, clean face. When he wasn't growling or twitching his nose, he looked so innocent. No, she didn't want him to know what she had been before she came to be the nanny, at least not unless she had to.

"You see, Emily, once the neighbors across the dam moved out, that's when he started his logging business. And to tell you the truth, I've always been curious about that setup. Say, how long have you been living here, anyway?"

"Uhm, around five months, something like that."

"I see. Well, I haven't been here in a while, not since Sylvia..." He stopped when Nathan ran over.

"How you doing?" he said, patting the boy's head.

Nathan grinned up at George. "Thanks for bringing the cows over," he said, then darted off again.

"Anyway, Emily, I'm glad I got a chance to meet you. And, hey, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to come by. It's the log cabin over the hill."

"Oh, thanks. I appreciate that."

He strolled back to his horse and mounted. She watched him ride off, then turned her gaze up the hill again, wondering just how far Donald would go to get the Trutmans out. She felt guilty for not saying something. Part of it was that she was afraid of giving herself away. But she was also worried that George, with that simmering temper of his, might come over and work Donald into such a frenzy that he'd get himself into more trouble than he bargained for. And then there was always the chance he might be wrong about the property line.

By the time Donald arrived home, the yard was back in order. If he'd found out about the cows, he decided not to say anything. Emily guessed this was because he had more important things on his mind.

She was expecting to meet the children for their usual Friday night hot dogs and chips. They'd been in the library, working on homework, and she'd gone out for a walk. When she came in through the foyer for dinner, she found Gabriel still there, and the table only set for one.

"Where're Maria and Nathan?" she asked Pearl.

"In the formal dining room. They're having dinner with Mr. Schillings." She smiled haughtily. "And, some important guests."

Pearl was flushed and buzzed around more excitedly than Emily had ever seen her. The whole thing made her wonder if perhaps Donald was trying to bring about some positive changes after all.

Her hopeful theory only lasted a day or two. Nothing changed at all. And the only reason he had dinner with the children was to impress a California State Senator and his wife. She wondered what they would think if they knew he was harboring a fugitive, and if they knew or even cared about his ties with the Palace.

Over the next few weeks, Donald spent most of his time up in his suite with various people coming and going by way of his private entrance. At times Emily heard distant voices long after the children were in bed. That's when she felt most alone and out of place with these strangers she could hear but not see, meeting in what seemed to be some sort of curious shroud of secrecy.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.