The Lawman's Holiday Wish

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Do you have appropriate electrical setup?”

  “We do.”

  “And backup generator power?”

  Piper made a face, but Rainey nodded, confident. “Yes, I do.”

  “And you know the temperature range for cooling dairy products has to be respected at all times?”

  Rainey patted her side pocket. “I have my food handler certification from the state of New York right here.”

  The committee chairwoman smiled, and Rainey blessed Piper for making her take the three-day course at the community college before summer ended.

  “And you have enough staffing for both booths?”

  “Marly Peterson, Julia Harrison Morse and I are handing the dairy booth.”

  “Marty Harrison and I are on the farm-product booth,” Piper added.

  “Well, it sounds like you’ve got the bases covered,” the chairwoman said, and for just a moment, Rainey thought they were done.

  But then a hand shot up from a seat across the room. The chairwoman nodded her way. “Laura Spelling.”

  The woman stood, her chin thrust out, her back rigid. “Anyone with a lick of sense knows it’s a hazard to have glass bottles on the park grounds. You’re just asking for accidents to happen, and if she—” a hooked thumb and a tart tone indicated Rainey “—gets distracted, then we have problems. I, for one, am tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.”

  The chairwoman offered the speaker a quiet look of confusion. “Distracted? What do you mean, Laura?”

  “Busy.” The woman sniffed audibly, then folded her arms across her chest. “When you appropriated space for my ‘premium’ level booth on the main walk, it was across from McKinney Farms. Now—” she sent a mean-spirited look across the room to Rainey “—it’s directly opposite her.”

  “Your booth hasn’t been changed, Laura. The McKinneys simply added a separate stand for their dairy store. So really, nothing has changed. Same footprint, same allocation, same traffic flow.”

  “But it’s not the same.” Laura pulled up her shoulders as if spoiling for a fight. “I didn’t pay good money to have a premium stand for my yarn goods and handmade crafts right across from a criminal. That changes a lot, Tess.”

  Tess looked caught, as if she couldn’t believe this was happening.

  A movement from the back of the room drew the chairwoman’s attention. “Have you got something to say, Luke?”

  “I do.”

  Rainey turned and saw him tucked in the back of the room. She hadn’t thought about Luke being here, but he’d mentioned he was running a petting zoo at the festival.

  He smiled at her, then at Tess. “I have a premium site for my petting zoo about a hundred yards south of Laura’s. If she’s so inclined, I’ll trade my spot for hers. That way she’ll have a prime location for her goods and I’ll take the site across from Rainey’s.”

  “Laura.” Tess turned back to the yarn-goods dealer. “Will that work for you?”

  “Yes.” The woman maintained her ongoing displeasure with the possible solution, however. “That means you’re putting a draw for children directly across from her booth, but if the committee is okay with that, who am I to say it’s a stupid idea?”

  It was all Rainey could do to keep Piper from charging across the room. But she held her sister’s arm and whispered, “Humility first. Always.”

  Piper’s face said she had other ideas of what Rainey could do with her humility, but then Luke took another step forward in a reassuring fashion. “We won’t let the kids or the animals mess with Rainey’s stuff. I promise.” He gave Laura a nod of reassurance, deliberately misunderstanding her ploy, and then winked at Rainey and Piper. “We’ll keep things under control.”

  Laura snapped her mouth shut and said no more. Seeing her expression, Rainey was sure she hadn’t heard the last of it, but Luke had saved the day. As the meeting drew to an end, he moved across the room, his brother Seth at his side. “Ladies.”

  Piper aimed a mutinous look at Laura Spelling’s back. “Vindictive snot.”

  Rainey shook her head. “She’s protecting her investment. I’m paying off past mistakes. That’s how it goes, Piper.” She turned her attention to Luke. “Thank you.”

  His grin said more than words ever could. “None needed. I just engineered two days of being within a few feet of you and didn’t have to lay out an extra dime. I’d say I’m the winner here.”

  Rainey shook her head, bemused but gratified, and stuck out her hand to his brother. “You’re Seth. I know this because your picture is in Luke’s living room.”

  “Nice to meet you, Rainey.” He shook her hand, then shrugged a shoulder toward the angry woman’s retreating back. “You handled that well. I noticed that Piper wanted to go on the attack, but you held back.”

  “I’ve learned restraint the hard way,” she admitted. “I didn’t expect to come home to find an ‘all is forgiven’ mind-set,” she said, as the crowd thinned. “But I didn’t know it would be as bad as it is.”

  “Oh, Rainey.” Piper hugged her. “It will get better with time.”

  “It will,” she agreed quietly. “I pray for that every morning. And every afternoon. And then double-time in the evening, because I know that actions have repercussions. I just want God to give me the strength to handle those waves when they come.”

  “Well, Zach and I are arranging security throughout the bicentennial year,” Seth told her. “Between the three of us—” he gave his younger brother a punch in the arm “—we’ve got your back.”

  “Thank you, Seth.” She smiled up at him. “That means a lot.”

  “To both of us,” Luke advised his brother. “And I’ll be glad to let you know when your help is needed.” His direct look sent a message that made Seth smile.

  “Got it.”

  “Good. Did you girls walk down?”

  Piper shook her head. “We were running late, so we drove. And, Luke, thank you again.” She reached out and hugged him. “You’re a good friend.”

  He turned Rainey’s way with a look of expectation. “No hug?”

  She frowned and tapped his chest lightly. “Rules, remember?”

  “You won’t let me forget.” His amused but wounded glance said he’d like to set the rules aside.

  “Then it’s good that one of us is paying attention.” She slid into the passenger seat of the car, fastened her belt and waved. “Thanks, guys.”

  “You’re welcome.” Seth’s voice followed her, amused.

  “See you Saturday, Rain.” Luke’s tone sounded determined, as if the man had made up his mind to challenge the guidelines they’d set weeks before.

  The thought of thwarting those rules tempted Rainey’s heart. What would it be like to give this relationship a chance to grow?

  You left your children for years, you’ve just come home, now you’re contemplating changing things up again? What’s wrong with taking things slow? Step by step? Wasn’t that your plan?

  But what if God’s plan included Luke and Aiden?

  Laura Spelling’s look of revulsion came back to her, a woman so disgusted with Rainey’s past that she didn’t want her in her field of vision, afraid she would taint her business.

  The phone was ringing when they walked into the house. Rainey picked it up without looking at the number, then slapped it back down quickly.

  “Telemarketer?” Piper frowned as she tossed her jacket onto the back of a chair. Then she turned Rainey’s way. “Not a telemarketer.”

  Rainey bit back tears, determined to stay strong. “Laura wanted me to know what she really thinks of me in words she didn’t dare use in public.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Piper asked, steaming. “Rainey, you paid your price and then some. You never even committed a crime. And Laura threw her kid
out of the house because she discovered she was pregnant last year. The church and the ladies’ auxiliary have been helping support Laura’s daughter and granddaughter because Laura disowned them. You want to talk sinful behavior? That’s it right there. I will never understand hypocritical behavior like this.”

  Rainey understood too well. “Guilt by association. It’s simple. It takes a lot of good things to build a solid reputation, and one bad thing can ruin it. I messed up repeatedly, so I’ve got a lot of work to do to scrape off the tarnish. But I’m tough.” She stared at the phone. “And people like Laura Spelling should take a lesson in forgiveness.”

  “But it’s not your fault,” Piper insisted, indignant.

  Rainey gave her a tired smile as she headed for bed. “This time, yes. But I’ll be trudging uphill for a while, Piper. Luckily I’ve got some good shoes on my feet.”

  Chapter Seven

  Luke dropped Seth at his rustic village house in Kirkwood before he headed home on the far side of the lake. The dark front windows said his mother had tucked Aiden in for the night. He stepped into the kitchen and took a deep breath of anticipation. “Lasagna.”

  “Seth called and said you were on your way, so I warmed it up.” Jenny grabbed a jacket from a hook beside the door and shrugged into it while she talked. “Aiden ate a little, not too much, but he did wolf down fresh green beans and cottage cheese.”

  “He’s discovering new things every day.”

  “Seth mentioned some trouble at the meeting.”

  “Yes.” Luke withdrew a fork and knife from the drawer and moved to the table. “Folks aren’t making things easy for Rainey.”

  “Evening up the score.” Jenny frowned at the thought. “If we all minded our own business, the world would be a better place. Or if we looked out for one another.”

  “Rainey thinks she deserves it.”

  “She’s wrong.” His mom’s expression matched her quick tone. “She made mistakes when she was a kid. Most people understand that and move beyond. Laura Spelling is always looking to assign blame, and it’s never at her own front door.”

  “I moved the petting zoo across from the McKinneys’ stand,” Luke told her. “Unless Seth already filled you in.”

  Her nod said he had.

  “It’s better that way, anyhow,” Luke went on. “We want the kids to feel like they’re helping with the festival, so if we’ve got a crew of adults around, that will make it easier to let them work here and there.”

  “I won’t be much help to you that weekend,” she reminded him. “Dad and I are working with the fire department booths and the ladies’ auxiliary pumpkin pull.”

  “We’ll be fine. The kids are painting the boards for Rainey’s booth this weekend.”

  Jenny raised a brow in approval. “Luke, I’m proud of you. You’re giving Aiden a chance to breathe on his own. Well done.”

  Luke couldn’t argue the point, because he had his mouth full of lasagna, the best food he’d had all day. “This is awesome.” He mumbled around a forkful, and she waved as she walked out the door.

  “Luckily, Aiden and I said grace for all three of us.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Luke waved at her retreating back. “You pray enough for half a dozen Campbells, Mom. And I know you’ve got my back.”

  She turned at the door and her look reminded him of all those times she’d been right when he was a kid. “God’s got your back, son. But I’ve got Him on speed dial as needed. Good night.”

  “Night. And thanks again for watching Aiden.”

  She waved and climbed into the small SUV she used for tooling all over their mountainous county, and Luke sat back, contemplating her words.

  God had his back?

  Not likely. Never had, never would. But as Luke finished the plate of delicious, hot food, Rainey’s words came back to him, how she prayed morning, noon and night. The image of a young mother bowing her head in prayer made him pause.

  His wife, Martha, had never taken charge of things. And she’d never talked about prayer, even though she insisted on going to church each Sunday.

  He was ashamed to admit he’d been married to the woman and didn’t know if she prayed or not. How crazy was that? And he’d gone to church with her, but because he was supposed to be there. The Campbells had all been raised in the church, steeped in faith, then allowed to find their own way.

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” Rainey had used that expression on him the week before, and he’d sloughed it off, thinking it was just another phrase. But it wasn’t, not to her, and not to his mother or father.

  He stood, loaded his plate and silverware into the dishwasher, and stared at the night sky. Encroaching clouds promised rain by morning, enough to make the farmers groan during harvest. But the dark skies had nothing on the shadows in his heart.

  * * *

  Puddles dotted the farm drive as Luke headed toward the dairy store parking lot late Saturday afternoon. He’d dropped Aiden off that morning, dressed in old clothes, perfect for painting. And when he’d said goodbye before going to work, Aiden had barely acknowledged him.

  Which was good, right?

  You want him to stop clinging. Isn’t that the goal here? To give him wings?

  Yes, but Luke couldn’t deny the hint of loss he’d felt as he drove away. Aiden didn’t need his father, not as much, anyway. But that was Luke’s problem, not his son’s. He pulled to a stop under a wide-branched maple tree, ready to see what the day had brought.

  Piper headed his way as he exited the car. Zach was lighting the grill behind his house next door. Through the dairy store window, he saw Rainey taking care of customers.

  What he didn’t see were the children.

  He moved toward Piper. “Are the kids in the house with Lucia?”

  “They’re in the barn,” she explained. “Cleanup time.”

  “With Berto.”

  Piper shook her head as Rainey came through the door of the dairy store. “No, Berto and Marty are in the milking parlor.”

  “Then who’s with the kids?”

  Piper hesitated, then addressed his question in a slow, overly careful voice. “No one. I left them on their own to rake up the straw we used under the painting project, but I made sure to spread freshly sharpened pitchforks around first. After I left the keys in the tractor, of course. And the gate to the bull’s pen is wide-open, but they’d never venture in there, right?” She scowled and crossed her arms. “What’s your deal, Luke?”

  “My deal is you left my kid alone in a barn filled with dangerous animals, tools and a ladder to the loft.”

  Piper didn’t shrink back, but then, she never did. Usually Luke liked that about her, but not today.

  Rainey stared at him as if he’d grown two heads in seven short hours. “Come with us.” She and Piper led the way to the barn, and Luke tried to calm down, but the thought of Aiden alone, possibly in trouble, with no one around...

  He felt as if someone had grabbed hold of his heart. What if—

  “Hey, Dad!”

  “Luke! Come see what we did!”

  “Hi.”

  Sonya blinked up at him with fawnlike eyes while Dorrie jumped up and down and Aiden pumped his fist in the air. “We got all the boards painted and next week Rainey is going to let us put stickers on them!”

  There wasn’t going to be a next week, Luke decided, but he’d tackle that later. Right now he wanted to grab his kid and hit the road.

  “Come on, Dad.” Aiden put his hand in Luke’s, but not to be led. No, this time, Aiden was leading, tugging his father to the side wall. “These are the boards. Zach put them over here to dry when we got them done.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Luke told him. They were anything but beautiful, but they were painted white, looking fresh and clean, and the
splotches of paint would do no harm once dry. “Good job, guys.”

  “Thanks!” Aiden went to pull away, but Luke held tight, ready to go before he exploded. “We need to head home, son.”

  “Dad, I have to stay,” Aiden insisted. “It’s cleanup time, and Rainey said we don’t get ice cream if we don’t help with cleanup.”

  Aiden was begging to help, a welcome change. The boy’s earnest look pushed Luke to let go of his hand. “Okay.”

  Aiden dashed back to grab his child-size rake, and he and the girls made a show out of gathering the straw, then piling it into the wheelbarrow. Luke sighed, glanced around, then realized two sets of cool, indignant eyes were trained on him.

  Right then, he didn’t care.

  “As you can see, there are no dangerous tools.” Piper drawled the last two words, letting him suffer at length. “No wild animals, ready to eat small children.”

  “And please make note of the hay pile at the bottom of the ladder, because we did ladder climbs and hay jumps earlier and your sweet baby boy loved it.” Rainey’s cool, clipped tone said she didn’t appreciate his implication of neglect any more than her sister did.

  Luke noted the distance from the floor to the loft above. Twice the distance Aiden climbed to his tree house. The loft had a fence rail running the full length, except for the ladder area, and the tall pile of hay at the base made him think of simpler times. Childhood play at his uncle’s farm outside of Olean. He’d loved going there, romping with his farm cousins. And they’d had the occasional bump and bruise, a few stitches here and there, but they’d survived. Thrived, even.

  “Now you can either stow your wounded ego and stay for supper, or go home. But Aiden’s earned an ice cream and he should get it.” Rainey met and held Luke’s gaze, and he realized that when it came to criticism of her mothering skills, the lady in question didn’t take it lightly. “Your choice.”