A Knights Bridge Christmas by Carla Neggers

overt—not as it had been yesterday with Randy Frost. But it was there, the whiff of “we know you’re a heartless bastard.” Logan figured their judgment, fair or unfair, had more to do with their ideas about doctors, city doctors, people who lived in the city—any or all of the above. That didn’t bother him so much, since they didn’t know him well and he was what he was. What got to him—and took him by surprise—was the Sloans’ faint but unmistakable suspicion of his motives for being in their town, helping his grandmother.
    “Daisy’s beloved in town,” Christopher said. “Every firefighter who’s served in the town fire department as a professional or a volunteer would do anything for her. A lot of firefighters from neighboring towns would, too.”
    “Good to know,” Logan said.
    Christopher wasn’t done yet. “Your grandfather’s a legend in the area. I don’t know if he saved as many lives as you have in the ER, but he saved quite a number during his years with the department. He also prevented injuries and deaths with inspections, education, drills. He wasn’t a hot dog who got a rise out of fighting a big fire.”
    “It’s good to know he’s well remembered,” Logan said, drinking some of his coffee.
    “He stayed active after he retired,” Eric said. “Right up until the end. Losing him was hard on Daisy. She didn’t want to give him up.”
    “I know she didn’t,” Logan said. “None of us did.”
    “The two of them had a good run,” Justin added.
    Logan nodded. “They did. I’m glad you three think so well of her. She likes company. I’m sure she’d welcome visitors.”
    “Tom never wanted to go into assisted living,” Christopher said.
    The Sloan breakfasts arrived. Eggs, bacon, a mound of home fries, toast dripping with butter. They’d probably burn it off before noon. Logan thought he was beginning to understand their ambivalence toward him. “It was her idea to move,” he said. “She was lonely at home, and the house became too much for her, even with assistance. She wants to sell it. We want her to be content and safe, and to respect her wishes, of course.”
    “So it was her decision to move,” Eric said, obviously skeptical.
    “Yes, and it’s one we all support. That it’s a choice instead of a necessity helps.” Logan’s breakfast arrived—even a short stack of waffles was more than he would eat in one sitting. “My grandfather isn’t here. I wish he were. Gran has to make her own decisions.”
    “He didn’t make decisions for her,” Christopher said. “He wasn’t that kind of guy.”
    “I know. They made their decisions together. But we’re all aware she’d never have gone into assisted living if he were still alive, and we’d have found a way to make that happen if at all possible.”
    “Our grandmother’s still on her own,” Justin said. “She says she’ll walk into the woods on a cold night and go to sleep before she’ll move into assisted living.”
    “She has a bad attitude,” Eric said with a grin.
    “I get where you’re coming from,” Logan said, spreading a glob of melting butter over his waffles. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. “You all live in town. You know my grandmother and knew my grandfather well. In some ways, better than I ever could, since I’ve never lived in Knights Bridge.”
    “You don’t come around much,” Christopher said.
    “Not in recent years, no.”
    “Are you sure Daisy isn’t telling you what you want to hear?”
    “There’s no way to know for certain. I am sure she is clear on her options and has chosen the one she believes is best for her.”
    Eric dipped a fork into his eggs. “That’s a careful answer.”
    “I’m not asking you to trust me,” Logan said, keeping any edge out of his tone. “Talk to her yourself if you’d like.”
    Justin leaned back in his chair. “Didn’t we throw you into the Frosts’ millpond once or twice?”
    Logan picked up the small dish of