The Lawman's Holiday Wish

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “We’ll go.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  The sisters spoke in unison, one fair, one dark, yet united by the stupidity of his overreaction. But then neither one of them had gone through the emotional tangle he’d endured with Aiden’s mother, so they—

  “How we doin’?” Zach came into the barn, sensed something amiss and stopped. “What’s going on?”

  “Luke and Aiden won’t be staying for supper.” Piper made the statement calmly, but Aiden overheard her and stopped cleaning.

  “But Zach’s making us hot dogs. And Rainey made a bean thing I might like.”

  “We’ll have supper at home, Aiden.”

  The little boy stared, then stuck out his lower lip. “I don’t want to go home. I want to stay and have supper with Sonya and Dorrie.”

  “Not this time.” Luke saw Zach send a questioning look to Piper, but she shrugged it off in a “later” gesture.

  Rainey crossed the barn and knelt by Aiden’s side. “How about if I put some of that bean salad in a container to take with you, and you let me know what you think of it next time you see me?”

  “I can’t stay?” Aiden’s pleading tone begged her to offer a different answer, but Rainey shook her head.

  “When Dad says you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go, right? Didn’t we talk about this, guys?” She swept the three kindergartners a look, and each one nodded in turn. Rainey smiled and hugged Aiden close for just a minute, then tweaked his baseball cap. “I didn’t know we were going to practice the lesson quite this soon, but I’ll see you later this week at school, and then Saturday we’ll decorate the booth with the cow stickers. It will be our first official ‘sticker party.’” She didn’t look at Luke, didn’t even acknowledge him with a glance. Focused, she kept her attention fully on the children.

  Aiden reached up and hugged Rainey. Then he proceeded to hug Dorrie and Sonya, and Luke’s chagrin increased even more when the kid hugged Piper and Zach, too.

  “Ready?” The question came out gruffer than Luke intended, but he was already acting like a jerk, so what difference did it make?

  Aiden met Rainey’s encouraging look, nodded, but didn’t pretend to be happy. “I guess.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Okay.”

  Aiden trudged to the car, not arguing, fighting, pouting or whining, a huge and positive step. When Luke reached into the backseat, Aiden waved him off. “I can do my own belt, Dad. Rainey showed me.”

  With a long sweep of his arm, the boy pulled the belt out and around his middle, then clicked it into place. And when Luke attempted to cinch the belt tighter, Aiden’s hands beat him to it.

  “Let me guess. Rainey taught you that, too.”

  He nodded. “She said we were practicing to be indi...indi...”

  “Independent.”

  “Yes.” Aiden smiled that his father got it finally, but Luke’s heart grew more sour by the moment. He’d freaked out over the kids being allowed to work and play in the barn.

  Luke’s father often said that his biggest gift to his children had been teaching them to get along without him.

  Rainey was quietly teaching a similar concept to Aiden, encouraging him to try new things. And what did Luke do in return?

  Turn tail and run.

  He pulled into a fast-food place on Lower Lake Road, ordered a hot-dog kid’s meal and saw Aiden’s look of surprised confusion in the rear seat. “We couldn’t eat hot dogs with Sonya and Dorrie, but we’re buying them here?”

  Luke didn’t have to look any further than his reflection in the mirror to realize the boy’s assessment made more sense than the father’s. Luke had jumped to conclusions, overreacted and gone off on a tangent because he’d let old buttons get pushed.

  Piper was ticked at him.

  Zach probably thought he was nuts, and then there was Rainey. She felt sorry for him, but worse, she felt sorry for Aiden.

  And the worst part of all?

  She was right.

  Chapter Eight

  Luke tried to get hold of Rainey the following day. Lucia answered the phone and politely said she’d pass on the message.

  He called again Monday morning, knowing the dairy store was closed until noon, but Berto said Piper and Rainey were having dress fittings for the upcoming wedding.

  Luke ended the call, took a seat in his cruiser and wondered if he should keep trying. His head said no.

  His heart said otherwise.

  He’d hurt her by not trusting her with his son. Instead of thinking, he’d reacted. Cops couldn’t afford the luxury of unplanned action, but when it came to Aiden, his academy training went out the window. He needed to fix things. But how?

  Saturday.

  He needed to trust her to care for Aiden on Saturday, even though it might be the last thing she wanted to do. She’d invited the boy. Surely she’d still welcome him to the sticker party, even if Luke’s presence wasn’t requested.

  He pulled into the crushed-stone parking lot late Wednesday and spotted Rainey as she turned the key in the lock of the dairy store. Marly saw him, whispered something, then backed away with a wave and smile. She got into her patched-up car and headed home, leaving Luke and Rainey alone.

  * * *

  Rainey turned toward Luke and planted a polite smile on her face, not realizing he’d gotten so close.

  Very close.

  Close enough for her to see the cloudless blue of his eyes, the wave of his dark blond hair, the strong jaw and late-day stubble. She went to step back, create distance between them, but her heel caught the edge of the wooden step.

  “Easy.”

  Strong arms prevented her fall. Strong arms belonging to a man whose doubting nature made her question herself, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. Not after all her hard work. She’d stand tall and strong—and alone if need be. But no matter what, no one was allowed to bring her down. Not ever again.

  “You okay?” Concern deepened his voice, made it husky, and his eyes were questioning. Eyes a girl could lose herself in... For just a moment, safe in the circle of Luke’s arms, she longed to relax into the here and now.

  “Fine, thanks.” She pulled back, but his arm resisted her movement. “If you’ll—

  “I don’t think so, Rain.” He whispered the words as his mouth found hers in a sweet, gentle kiss that offered too much and promised too little. But she didn’t want to pull away. She wanted to linger in the present, forget the past and ignore the future.

  “Mom? Are you done at the store? We’re ready for story time!”

  “I—”

  “Rain, I—”

  “Don’t.” She put the flat of her fingers against his mouth. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “I disagree. And if you can forgive me for being a first-class jerk the other day, Aiden would like to come for the sticker party. If I didn’t spoil everything, that is.”

  Rainey’s gaze lingered on his face, his hair, his eyes, before she stepped back. “You can’t spoil something that doesn’t exist.” She waved a hand between them. “We made rules for a reason.”

  “And if that reason no longer applies?”

  “It does apply.” She moved around him and down the two steps, then turned back. “Nothing erases the past, Luke. Can you imagine how angry and protective you’d feel if someone came along and said hurtful things to Aiden because you were with me? He’s an innocent child, and if you’ve got reservations about letting him loose to play on his own, I can’t imagine how you’d feel the first time someone makes him cry because his father’s hanging out with an ex-con.”

  “Rainey—”

  She quickly headed toward the house as Dorrie’s voice called again. “Saturday is fine. And if you’re not
working, you’re welcome to stand guard. Oops, I mean, hang out.”

  Would her comment anger him?

  It didn’t. Rueful, he clapped a hand to the back of his head and nodded. “Saturday. First thing. And then one week until the wedding. Will you save a dance for me?”

  “Maids of honor have no time for dancing. We’re too busy taking care of the bride, but thanks for thinking of me.”

  * * *

  That was all he’d been doing lately. Thinking of Rainey. Morning, noon and night. He drove to his parents’ home on the lake, and another round of guilt hit when he saw how tired Aiden was.

  “Luke.” His mother looked up when he came through the back door. “I was just going to take him home to bed. Sorry I couldn’t be at your place with him today, but the washing machine repairman didn’t come until late afternoon. Although the irony of being married to the owner of a hardware store and calling a repairman should not go unnoticed.”

  His father winked at Luke. “And if I could figure out a way to be in two places at once, that would be fine. Think of it as aiding the local economy.”

  “To the tune of nearly two hundred dollars,” Jenny announced, but she gave his dad’s hair an easy ruffle as she walked by. “Luckily, it gave Aiden and me a chance to see how repairmen work.”

  “A teachable moment.”

  “Have you been reading or is that another Rainey-ism?” Jenny asked.

  “Rainey.”

  “I’m missing those little girls,” Charlie announced from the recliner. “Why don’t you bring them around Sunday for the family birthday shindig?”

  “That’s a great idea.” Jenny turned back toward Luke. “Ask her, Luke. See if she and the girls are available.”

  After she’d brushed him off tonight, Rainey would most likely say no, but Luke wasn’t about to go into details with his parents. A guy had to cling to some shred of dignity. “I’ll ask, but she might be working.”

  “They alternate Sundays,” his mother said as she packed a sandwich for him to take home. “I usually stop in to stock up after church, and she’s only there every other one. But I know they switch up sometimes.”

  His mom’s open look didn’t fool Luke. She liked Rainey. It was clear in her gaze, her tone, her invitation. Jenny Campbell always cheered the underdog, she loved the Christmas tree in A Charlie Brown Christmas and she wasn’t afraid to champion an unpopular cause. Right now the unpopular cause was her son, but she didn’t know that.

  Had the kiss ruined things? Luke had no idea, but he knew it was unforgettable, and if he’d had a hard time pushing Rainey from his thoughts before, it was nearly impossible now. “Hey, bud. Can you get your coat?” he asked Aiden.

  Charlie tossed his grandson the jacket from the foot of his chair. “Need help with the zipper?”

  “Nope.” Aiden fumbled and worried his bottom lip as he worked the zipper mechanism, but once he got it locked in, he pulled down tight with one hand and up with the other. “I can do it myself.”

  “Excellent!” Jenny handed him a miniature candy bar. “This is for working so hard to be independent. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Grandma!” He grabbed his backpack and ran to the car, climbed in and worked his straps into place without a word of complaint.

  “I don’t know or care about whatever else might be going on....” Jenny turned to Luke with a pleased expression. “But whatever you and Rainey are doing seems to be working. He’s becoming much more self-reliant and less sulky.”

  Luke gave credit where it was due. “Rainey, mostly.”

  “Tell her to keep up the good work. I’ll tell her myself if she comes along on Sunday. I’ve never seen Aiden so anxious to do well. It’s an answer to my prayers, Luke.”

  “Which means Rainey’s the answer to your prayers.” He started to leave, then turned back. “Though most of the town would disagree.”

  “Not most. Some,” Jenny replied. “That will happen anywhere. But kids make mistakes. That girl had the courage to take someone’s place in prison to save an unborn child being born behind bars. She turned in a band of dirty cops and her whistle-blowing brought down a multi-county drug ring. I’d say she’s one amazing young woman, but then I like girls who think for themselves.”

  “I wonder why,” his father muttered from across the room.

  Luke laughed, but saw the truth in her words. Rainey did think for herself. She’d said so the day they’d met and then proved it in multiple ways. Where Piper dived into a problem, Rainey quietly assessed, then took charge. Luke liked that about her. “I’ll ask her about Sunday.”

  “Good.”

  “And about the babysitting, I keep meaning to put an ad in the paper, but—”

  His mother waved that off. “Why not leave things as they are for the moment? Between the festival and the holidays, we’re going to be busy. When did you think you’d have time to interview people? And starting a new sitter at holiday time probably isn’t the best idea.”

  “Time’s a problem,” Luke admitted.

  “So leave it alone for now, let Aiden continue to come here after school and we’ll tackle it after Christmas. If that’s okay with you.”

  “It’s great. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “Wouldn’t offer if I did,” she told him. “Now go. Get that kid home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “G’night, Mom.” He reached out and hugged her, knowing if he didn’t she’d chase him down. No one put Jenny Campbell off easily. Most didn’t bother trying. “Good night, Dad.”

  “See ya,” Charlie called from his recliner.

  Luke got Aiden tucked into bed with half a story, then laid out clothes for the morning. Grabbing a lined flannel shirt, he walked the perimeter of the barn to check the animals. Once he decided all was well, he looked up at the clear night sky and sighed.

  Ten years ago he’d envisioned a different reality. He’d started his marriage as a “probie” in cop terms. Year by year he’d built a reputation, a place in the community.

  It had all come crashing down after Aiden’s birth. Everything he’d had dissolved into a puddle of emotional upheaval.

  He’d prayed then. Tirelessly. Endlessly. He’d gone to church, lit candles, sat in the pew like the good Christian his mother had raised him to be, knowing his world was turning inside out and he was helpless to stop it.

  But God could help. He’d believed that then. And when no help came, he realized that the comfort of church was the communal meeting, not the Everlasting Father. Because if there was such a being, He’d have stepped in. No merciful God would ever have put a kid in that position, therefore He couldn’t exist.

  But standing there under the sky, a blanket of flickering lights, Luke thought of the lessons he’d learned as a child. Christ the teacher, explaining His father and His father’s purpose. To love, shelter and forgive.

  Christ the healer. The miracle worker. The sage who called the little children to come to Him, stand by Him.

  But Luke had no real answers. Just more questions. Because in his world, God should be the greatest protector of all, the “megacop,” the enforcer. And when Luke had needed Him most, He hadn’t been around. And that made believing not just hard. It made it impossible.

  * * *

  “Okay, sample time.” Rainey passed out tiny cups of ice-cold cinnamon milk at the Friday-night farm meeting. “Blended, pasteurized, homogenized, packed in chilled twelve-ounce bottles. What do you think?”

  She studied the group as they tasted, then breathed relief at the circle of smiles. “Worthy to sell?”

  “Wonderful,” Lucia told her. “And the perfect balance of sweet to spice. The price?”

  When Rainey quoted the figure, Piper whistled. “A little high, but in line with chocolate milk and less pricey than eggnog. And you br
ought Testy in on this?”

  “For the maple syrup,” Rainey explained. “Most places use honey, but I didn’t like the aftertaste. The maple syrup will please folks, it’s locally produced and it’s a perfect match for cinnamon.”

  “It’s a winner,” Marty announced. “What’s next, and please tell me it’s whatever I see in those dessert cups on the counter.”

  Rainey laughed and nodded as she procured the tray. “Tres leches cakes. The pink cups are the traditional recipe, the blue cups are the apple-eggnog variety for the holidays, and the bright yellow are the tropical version, a blend of coconut and pineapple.”

  Lucia’s brows shot up at that, and Rainey wondered if she’d offended her mother by changing the basic family recipe. But when Lucia tasted the tropical cake, she beamed. “I have never had better.”

  “Really?” Lucia’s approval made Rainey grin with delight. “I kept testing varieties on Marly and Uncle Berto. Uncle didn’t mind a bit.” She winked at him as he patted his rounded middle. “But Marly threatened to charge the store for a weight-loss program if I didn’t stop. Still, she gave her approval to these three.”

  “Well, she’s right.” Zach reached for a second sample of the apple eggnog version. “This is amazing. I’m not a coconut fan so that one wouldn’t tempt me, but this?” He reached out to bump knuckles with Rainey. “You crushed it. This has just become a new holiday favorite.”

  “Sweet!” She laughed and checked out her sister’s opinion.

  “No complaints here,” Piper told her. “They’re marvelous. How are you going to get them ready for the festival, though?”

  Rainey whipped out a printed schedule from her left hip pocket. “Baking on Monday and Tuesday. Then I’ll freeze the sponge cakes. We fill them Thursday and Friday while the guys set up the booths. The cinnamon milk will be blended and bottled on Thursday. Marly and Noreen will be there to help get things ready. And I’m thinking of little custard cups, too, but I’m not sure if I have the time to pull it off. Those might have to wait until next year. We’ll see. We’ve done up sample Christmas baskets for display. I’m carrying Testy’s smoked meats in the cooler—”