Holiday Heat: The Men of Starlight Bend

by Ashley Jennifer

  “What are you so damn mad about, old man?” Josh demanded.

  Another gasp. Ty looked heavenward, praying for strength.

  “Language and respect, Josh. That’s your only warning.”

  But the kid had asked a good question. One Ty had asked many times before. But for some reason, this time, in this place, Henry decided to answer.

  “What am I mad about?” Henry repeated, red-faced, eyes blazing. “You want to know what I’m mad about? What really gets under my bonnet?”

  Josh snickered at that, but Kari leaned forward. “Yes,” she said. “I, for one, would really like to know. What grudge have you been nurturing all these years, Henry? Why can’t you just accept Ty for the great man he is?”

  God, she was sweet and loyal to a fault. But she had no idea what she’d stumbled into here, what decrepit reasoning Henry was about to toss out to the crowd. Ty needed to do some damage control before this bad situation became mayhem.

  “Get out your books,” he said to the class. “Chapter Eleven. No one leaves this room until I have five hundred words about how Montana achieved statehood.”

  “Your lack of responsibility,” Henry said, before anyone had a chance to obey. Not that Ty was fooling himself that they would.

  “You just quit this family,” Henry spat.

  “I didn’t quit the damn family, dad.”

  On cue, the students gasped again. Three—no four—swear words in one class. A few of the kids looked worried for him.

  “You took off when you wanted,” Henry went on, too wound up to care about anything but speaking his mind. “You came back when you wanted. I’d be a fool to think you won’t take off again the next time you feel like it. You. Doesn’t matter to you what anyone else wants.”

  The unfairness of it rolled over Ty like snowplow. “Come on, Dad,” he said, no longer caring who heard. “How long are you going to blame me for growing up?”

  “Plenty of boys have grown into men right here in this town,” Henry shouted.

  “Maybe they have,” Ty shouted back. “But I needed to get away from the crazy, Dad. You and grandpa and mom. Jesus, it was like living in a war zone.”

  “Your grandad was a good man.”

  “He was a mean, angry bastard,” Ty corrected. That one didn’t even get a gasp from the students. “He taught you how to be hard. He taught you that forgiveness is fake and you can’t trust the people you love. He drove a wedge between you and mom and between you and me.”

  “I make no apology for who I am,” Henry said proudly, hearing only what he chose to hear. As usual. “And you won’t catch me blaming my parents for all of my problems. That’s what your generation does. Not mine. Millennials,” he said with disgust.

  “He’s no millennial,” Josh interjected. “We’re millennials.”

  Ty glanced at Josh, stunned that he even knew the word, let alone how to apply it. “You’re Gen Z,” Ty corrected. “But nice use of vocabulary.”

  Henry opened his mouth again, but Kari cut him off.

  “Stop it,” she said softly. “Do you even hear yourselves? You’re fighting over something that happened years ago. What’s it matter now? You’re the only family you have left. Why do you make the past more important than the future?”

  “Family sticks together,” Henry said stubbornly. “Stays together.”

  “But you’re the one who’s keeping your family apart,” Kari insisted. “Ty came back to connect with you, and all of you’ve done is push him away even more.”

  “Well, coming from someone like you,” Henry muttered.

  “Meaning what?” Ty demanded.

  “She sold us out,” Henry said mulishly.

  “She has the right to do what she wants. The world doesn’t revolve around you, believe it or not.”

  “Doesn’t revolve around you, either, Tyler.”

  “Come on, Dad,” Ty said. “What do you want? You want me to pretend that leaving wasn’t the right thing for me? Did you really want me to spend my life never knowing what else there is? Running a hardware store that I don’t care about? Was that the future you saw for me?”

  “Don’t you mock my life’s work,” Henry said. “And I’d appreciate you not airing our woes in front of her.” Henry jabbed a finger in Kari’s direction. “And them,” he tacked on.

  “Her?” Ty exclaimed. “Trust me. She knows more about all this than either one of us ever could.”

  “You talk about our business to a stranger?”

  Ty laughed. “Number one, you knocked down my door to air our business in front of a classroom full of teenagers. Marianne is probably out there tweeting about every damn thing we say. Number two, I don’t have to share what I’m thinking with Kari. She’s had me figured out since the moment she laid eyes on me.”

  “I wish,” Kari muttered.

  “She’s female, Dad,” Ty went on when Henry didn’t seem to get the point. “She smarter than us both.”

  The girls in the class high-fived. The boys looked bewildered. Definite skepticism lowered Henry’s brows and he seemed completely disinclined to back down. If anything, his eyes looked a little wild, now.

  “You know,” Kari said, speaking softly, making everyone quiet down to hear. “I can’t even remember my dad’s face. When I close my eyes and try to call the memory? I can’t see him at all. I can hear his laugh, though. He had a big one. Loud as all get-out. A little phlegmy—the smoking—but like a summer storm. You could hear it coming in the distance. It never failed to make others smile along.”

  Everyone was watching her, even the two students in the back who’d been asleep earlier. Ty saw her note their avid attention, but she didn’t back off. That mutinous chin of hers went up, and she stared Henry, right in the eye.

  “When was the last time you made your son laugh, Henry? Or even smile? When was the last time you told him you loved him, or that you were proud of him? What do you think he’s going to remember when you’re gone?”

  She turned to Ty. “And you? You came all the way out here to be closer to him, but you never took that last step. You never got closer. He pushed you away, and you just let him. I’ve only known you a couple of months, but you're a man who gets what he wants. I know that much. So what’s your excuse?”

  She hadn’t come here to talk about his relationship with his dad. He knew that in his gut. But the passion in her voice, the hurt in her eyes . . . it moved him. Shamed him, because she was right. He’d come back and called it good enough. Made overtures, sure. But he figured if his dad wanted anything more, he’d have to meet Ty halfway. Deep down, though, he’d known Henry wouldn’t. He’d told himself that he’d done his part by coming home. Why had it taken Kari to make him see his own failure?

  “I would give anything to hear my dad laugh again,” she said. “Anything.”

  In the silence that cloaked the room, strains of I’ll Be Home for Christmas drifted down from the office. Marianne and Principal Baker had probably broken out the eggnog and cookies as they listened to the true confessions coming out of Ty’s classroom.

  “I’ll never have that chance,” Kari went on. “But you two are right here, in the same town. And it’s Christmas, for God’s sake. Whatever is keeping you apart, you need to fix it. Fix it now.”

  Her words resonated deep within him. He met his father’s eyes and saw that she’d managed to penetrate Henry’s thick crust as well.

  “Dad,” he began, when a piercing, electronic shriek cut through the silence. The sound was loud, obviously unexpected, and coming from Kari’s purse.

  Kari froze, a stricken expression on her face. For a moment, it seemed she didn’t understand what the sound meant any more than Ty did. The shriek came again, twice this time, and Kari jumped.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, opening the big purse she carried as it went off again—three screeches this time.

  “Is that your phone?” Lora, a student who had to be told repeatedly to put her phone away, asked in a condescendi
ng tone.

  “No, no, no” Kari said, rummaging through God knew what that she carried in that bag. As it sounded off a fourth time, she grasped something and yanked it out.

  The thing in her hand was about a half inch thick and three in circumference—roughly the size of a hockey puck, but bright red and glowing. A light flashed frantically at the top.

  “What in the devil is that?” Henry asked.

  “A fire alarm,” she said, eyes wide. “It’s one of my dad’s inventions. It’s hooked up to the phone and the smoke detectors in the store.”

  Ty caught on quicker than his father. “The hardware store’s on fire? You sure? Is anyone there?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, we closed early on account of the offer. That’s why I’m here.” She still held the alarm in her hand, shaking her head. “I wasn’t even sure it worked,” she said. “But with my history, I hooked it up anyway . . . .”

  “What history?” Henry demanded.

  “Never mind,” Ty said, taking Kari’s arm as he pulled out his phone. Now all the students took action, jumping from their seats as if to follow.

  “Absolutely not,” Ty shouted. “Sit down.”

  At that moment, Principal Baker rounded the corner. “Marianne said an alarm was going off.”

  “Fire at the hardware store,” Ty said. “Can you watch my class?”

  “Was just about to announce early dismissal. This storm isn’t letting up. You’ll have a time getting anywhere in it. Be careful.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Principal Baker’s prediction turned out to be accurate.

  Kari sat in the front on the bench seat, sandwiched in between father and son as Ty navigated the treacherous roads with both hands on the wheel. While she’d been at the school, the skies had simply opened up and dropped several feet of snow—all at once; everywhere. It came down so fast and furious that Kari couldn’t see two feet in front of her. She didn’t know if Ty kept the truck on the road or not, because she couldn’t even see the road. She’d stuffed the screeching, flashing PA—Pocket Alarm, though it was too big for a pocket—back into her purse and put it under the seat, but every thirty seconds it shrieked, keeping them all on edge.

  She’d called Simone as soon as they’d left the school and broken the news.

  “Don’t worry,” Simone said. “Even if the whole place burns down, it won’t impact our deal. We hardly have any merchandise left anyway. The damage will be minimal.”

  Kari knew it was true. And the deal Leimann’s offered was for the brand they’d built and the designer contacts they’d made—even if they lost everything on the shelves, it would only be a blip. But her worries were for the businesses on either side of the store. What if they caught fire, too?

  Starlight Bend’s fire department was a volunteer organization, but they’d assembled like pros and were already there by the time Ty pulled up to the store.

  “The fire’s out,” the Chief—who also happened to be Stan, the cantankerous bartender—told them. “Looks like the old Timberlake sign shorted out, started an electrical burn. Most of the damage is in the ceiling and the kitchen. How’d you even know it was burning? No one’s here and Ed’s place next door closed down yesterday so he could go see his daughter in Pittsburg. Elaina on the other side left town last week.”

  Numb, relieved, and feeling that somewhere in this snowy, freezing storm there was another sign that she’d somehow missed, Kari pulled out the flashing PA. She’d finally managed to quiet the screeching, but not shut off the lights.

  “My dad invented it. It’s like a pager. It goes off when the smoke detectors do.”

  And not only had it worked, it was one of the few things her father had actually patented. She hadn’t been the only one in the family who’d had troubles with things bursting into flames.

  Stan asked if he could see it and was soon surrounded by other firefighters, discussing the contraption. After a moment, one of them tromped inside, and the bleeping smoke detector shut off. A few seconds later, the PA quit flashing.

  “Thank God,” Kari muttered.

  “That little thing there, it might have saved this whole street,” Stan said. “You should sell them.”

  With a brisk nod, he joined his comrades in packing up the fire truck. Henry had gone inside to inspect the damage. Now, he came back out. “Couldn’t even tell there was a fire if you didn’t know what to look for. Except in the kitchen, and it was worse for the wear anyway. Smells smoky back there, too, but I don’t think any of your fancy jeans are ruined. A little airing out is all that’s needed.”

  The three of them stood in the shelter of the entryway, shivering and uncertain about what to do next.

  Finally, Henry said, “You used some pretty strong words earlier, missy. I guess you have to when you’re talking to someone who’s got a hard head. I want you to know I heard you.”

  He cleared his throat and faced his son. “This here isn’t the place. The way I see it, you need to settle other business first anyway.” His pointed glance at Kari left her in no doubt what that other business was. “But after you get that squared away, maybe we could have a drink. Cup of coffee. Whatever.”

  “I’d like that, Dad.”

  Henry nodded, his eyes over-bright. “Fight the good fight, son,” he said with another glance at Kari. Then he joined the fireman as they climbed aboard the truck. “Think I could hitch a ride home?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  They were both quiet when they entered Ty’s house. There’d been no question about where they would go. Kari’s rental was too far away and the storm too fierce to make the journey. Every business in town had closed down. The wind and snow owned the world now.

  Ty’s house was warm. When he turned on the light to combat the murky shadows, the Christmas tree came on too, sparkling happily in the corner. Buttercup dashed out to say hello, her floppy ears and wagging tail a welcome sight. Kari knelt down to show her some love while Ty shed his coat, turned on the coffee maker, and immediately started a fire in the hearth.

  When she looked up, Ty was watching her.

  “I know what you came to the school to tell me,” he said, surprising her. “And it wasn’t anything about my dad. You’re leaving. You made your choice.”

  Still on her knees with Buttercup in her arms, she nodded, stopped. Shook her head. “I don’t want to leave.”

  Her voice wavered over the words, betraying her feelings. She felt naked, exposed, and so very afraid of what he’d say next.

  “What?”

  “You were right about me. I came here—to Starlight Bend—with one goal, Ty. Launch. That’s it. Launch the business. Launch myself to the next stage, whatever it might be. But that day we met, I think I started to change right then. And I don’t think our meeting was an accident or just a fluke. It was fate. I needed to meet you. I needed an anchor, if only for a minute. I’ve been riding the waves from one point to another, thinking I was getting what I wanted. Working to reach something I thought would be meaningful. But when the call came in and we got the buyout offer—I wasn’t even happy. And it made me realize that I haven’t been happy in a very long time. Except when I’m with you. You make me happy.”

  He stared at her, his expression closed, his eyes alert, but shuttered.

  “Yes, you ground me,” she rushed on. “But you also help me see everything that I’ve missed because I’ve been moving too fast. You make me enjoy living. You’ve made me see that I took . . . I took my memory of my parents and somehow twisted it all up into this . . . plan of mine. This Rule the World strategy that I thought would set me apart—make me different, better than they were. But that’s not what I want, deep down.” She placed her hands over her heart. “Here.”

  “What do you want, Kari?”

  “You. All of you. I’m in love with you Ty. Can’t you see that?”

  He narrowed his eyes, shook his head.

  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to figure it out. I just thought I had
to choose. You or me.” She sniffed, smiling through her tears. “I know how stupid that sounds. I just couldn’t see how to make it work, though.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I can. Loving you doesn’t mean I can’t still be me. Yes, I want to create something. Something sustainable. Something real. I still want to succeed. I still want to be the best. But I want a life, too.” Her voice cracked again. “I want a life with you, Ty. Here, in this little town that has magic on every corner. I want to contribute and be known. I want to be known as the woman who belongs with you.”

  “Why?” he asked simply.

  “Because I love you. Because you already know more about me than I do about myself. These past few days without you? I’ve never been so miserable in my life.”

  Ty let out a sigh and looked away. Kari felt as if her world had just opened up beneath her feet and she was sliding down, sliding into the swirling miasma of a life that couldn’t be complete. Not without Ty.

  “I’m too late, aren’t I?” she said.

  Ty shook his head and gave a soft laugh. “I fell in love with you in about ten minutes, Kari. But I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you. Not even if I tried. These past few days of waiting for you. Of wondering if you were ever going to . . . . And if you did—for how long? How would I ever keep you?”

  “You don’t have to keep me, because I’m not going anywhere. This is what I want. You are the only man I want to be with.”

  “But for how long?”

  “You fell in love with me in ten minutes,” she said softly. “What’s to stop you from falling out of love just as fast?”

  “That’s not who I am.”

  “What’s your guarantee?”

  “There’s no such thing.”

  “For anyone, Ty. Not even me. All I can tell you is that there’s a hole in my heart right now that only you can fill. You’ve made me feel things that I didn’t think I was capable of feeling. You held a mirror for me, you made me see who I am, made me realize that I didn’t have to define myself by success. I love you, Ty. I’m standing here, stripped down to my heart. And I give it to you. You don’t have to keep it or worry that it will run away. It’s already yours. I am already yours.”