The Alpine Christmas by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page A

skip across whichever body of water we were visiting. I waited, expecting him to reach back and pitch. Instead, he turned to look at me, and his face had gone pale under its all-year tan.
    “Don’t come any closer, Emma,” he yelled. “Go up to the car.”
    Puzzled, I stared at him. But his stunned expression, more than his words, urged me to flee. Clutching the greens and the clippers to my breast, I scurried up the bank. I slippedtwice, swore, dropped the clippers, retrieved them, and finally reached the Jaguar. A minute later, Ben appeared, dragging my beautiful Douglas fir.
    “What’s wrong?” I gasped, out of breath.
    Ben righted the tree, shaking snow from its branches. His color was beginning to return, but his face was very grim. Suddenly, I thought of Milo and let out a little squeal. “Ben—what did you see down there?”
    He shoved the tree into the trunk of my car. “Shit.” His gloved hands dangled at his sides. “It was an arm. I swear to God, Emma, it was an
arm
.” He gazed at me as if he didn’t expect to be believed. Along with my shock came the realization that Ben didn’t know about Milo’s ghastly catch. The paper wasn’t out and I hadn’t thought to tell him.
    I stuffed the greens into the trunk and began to wrestle with the ropes. “We have to tell the sheriff,” I said, hearing my voice crack. Abruptly, I began to laugh. Ben stared at me, the horror on his face replaced by mystification at my reaction. I waved a weak hand at him. “It’s okay,” I gasped. “It’s just that … somebody has gone to pieces!”
    Ben didn’t laugh. There was nothing indecisive about my brother as he pushed me into the passenger side of the car and took the wheel. I was still semi-hysterical when we crossed the bridge into Alpine.

Cha p ter Four
    For over twenty years, I had relied on nobody but myself. I took great pride in my independence, my resourcefulness, my competence. On the short ride into Alpine, I chided myself for falling apart. Was it because I had Ben at my side, the older brother who had shielded me from all harm unless he was the one perpetrating it? Or was I genuinely shattered by the discovery of various body parts along the Skykomish River? I didn’t know. But I wasn’t about to go on being such a weak sister, as my mother would have put it. Giving one last sniffle, I showed Ben where the sheriff’s office was located. He pulled the Jaguar into the slush at the curb just as Milo came down the street, presumably from lunch.
    After listening to our recital, Milo looked as if his lunch had rebelled. “Damn,” he breathed, then gave Ben an apologetic nod. “Sorry, Father. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
    “Shit,” said Ben, “I didn’t know that you’d already found a leg. What the hell is going on around here?”
    Milo looked askance at Ben, apparently shocked by my brother’s salty language. Milo had been brought up a Congregationalist, which explained his amazement, as well as a few other matters. Milo said he’d get Sam Heppner, then take his deputy and Ben up to the falls in a county vehicle. Having regained my composure, I insisted that I should go along, too. After all, I was the press.
    “Here comes more of the press,” said Milo, indicating Vida, who was marching briskly down the street, her tweedcoat flapping around her boots. “Why don’t the two of you have a press conference?”
    “What is all this?” demanded Vida, forthright as ever, but testier than usual. Her boots crunched on the rock salt the city had used to melt the ice and snow on the downtown pedestrian walkways. “Well? Did you find the other leg?”
    Milo had gone into his office to get Sam Heppner. “It was actually an arm,” said Ben, reaching out to hug Vida. He knew how fond I was of my House & Home editor, and although he had met her on a previous visit to Alpine, this was the first time he had seen her on this trip. “How are you, Mrs. Runkel? I hear you’re converting from