The Lawman's Holiday Wish

by Ruth Logan Herne

  The deer pounded past Aiden.

  So did the bear.

  Then the deer leaped over the raging creek below, her dainty hoofs scrabbling in the mud on the opposite side.

  The deer was safe, racing deeper into the woods beyond the stream, but failure didn’t make the bear happy.

  Rainey opened her mouth to warn Aiden not to move, but it was too late.

  The boy spotted Spirit and started to race for the field.

  The bear saw the movement and turned in pursuit. As Aiden streaked toward the cleared hillside, the bear assessed the boy’s trajectory and dodged to cut him off.

  “Get him, boy!” Rainey didn’t have time to think. Going on instinct, she dug her heels into Spirit’s sides and charged the bear.

  Spirit responded as if he wasn’t old or arthritic. As if he’d never spent a day lolling in a paddock with fresh green hay. Head down, he aimed for the bear as if he knew what was about to happen, and would risk anything to save Aiden. To save Luke’s son.

  The bear pulled up, surprised, but then aimed for Aiden again, curving upward, determined to take his prey.

  Rainey didn’t even have to move the reins. Spirit charged again, the slippery terrain making it hard to gain speed.

  Rainey yelled with all her might, a battle cry that split the quiet of the remote countryside.

  Her scream unnerved the bear.

  She bellowed again, giving Spirit time to dig his way uphill, and as they drew closer the animal turned, judged the size of the charging steed and the crazed woman riding astride, and turned back toward the woods.

  Spirit followed.

  Rainey urged the horse past Aiden, determined to push the bear far into the forest. “Stay right there. Promise?”

  The boy nodded and she let Spirit’s pounding force drive the bear deep into the leafless trees, until she knew he wouldn’t likely circle around.

  “Whoa, boy. Whoa. Let’s walk, okay?”

  Spirit twitched his ears at the softened command. He slowed, then walked, ribs heaving, mouth open. She stopped him, dismounted, came around front and led him back to the meadow, where Aiden came racing toward them.

  Spirit paused, catching his breath, and Rainey bent low to grab the little boy. She swooped him into her arms and held him tight, thanking God for his safe delivery. They stood like that for long moments, until a break in the clouds leaked sunshine onto the meadow.

  The stream of warmth made Aiden shiver, and Rainey realized the boy had been wet and cold for too long. She pulled off her coat, peeled off her sweatshirt, then removed Aiden’s coat and tugged her lined hoodie over his head. The dry, warm garment would insulate him better than a soaking wet jacket. She rolled up the long sleeves, then picked Aiden up, grateful beyond belief.

  “Come on, kid, I’m putting you up top and we’ll walk Spirit back home together.” She boosted Aiden onto the big horse’s back, made sure he held tight to the saddle horn and led the horse to the shoulder of the road. “It’s not as steep here,” she told the horse. She sent Aiden a smile and a wink, then led them both home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aiden was gone. Lost in the storm. And it was all Luke’s fault.

  What was the matter with him? He knew his son missed being with Rainey and the girls. He knew how well the boy had done since Rainey came back to town, and then Luke had separated the little guy from the first great experience he’d had since losing his mother.

  Talk about dimwitted and shortsighted.

  Luke’s phone buzzed. He hit the cell button on his steering wheel and Seth’s voice came through. “There’s a major tree down on Town Line Road. Take Meagher’s Hill Road to Log Cabin Road.”

  “That’s five miles out of my way. Doesn’t anyone have a chain saw handy?”

  “Live wires. No options. Western Electric is on it, but they’ve got calls everywhere. Luckily, the storm’s letting up.”

  It was. Luke saw the gradual brightening in the western sky, but he knew the outcome of such heavy rainfall in the mountains. Rushing streams and creeks doubled in size. Footing became treacherous. And if Aiden stayed on the road, he could be hit by a car, or a falling tree limb. Or stumble into live electrical wires. The host of traps awaiting his precious son put Luke’s heart in a vise. How could this have happened? And at the worst possible time, when Luke was miles away, saving other people’s homes. Other people’s children.

  Doing your job.

  Luke pushed the internal voice aside. His job shouldn’t take precedence over Aiden’s safety. His—

  A beam of sunlight broke through the thinning clouds, the shaft of light broken by the late-day angle and the lessening rain.

  As Luke turned east onto Meagher’s Hill Road, a rainbow blossomed over the rising hills before him, a splendid arc of promise and hope. And as he sped east, the colors deepened and spread, three-quarters of the arc back-shadowed by retreating clouds.

  A rainbow.

  God’s promise to Noah, to his people. A symbol of hope and second chances.

  Luke’s heart cracked open, just a little. Was this a sign or just another scientific anomaly? He’d trusted God once, and God had failed him, utterly.

  Was it God who failed you?

  Or Martha?

  Luke pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to thwart the rise of emotion, but the rainbow deepened as he drove, making him think.

  You’ve carried her death with you for years. And her depression before that, thinking you weren’t enough to make her happy, even though you tried. But maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it just was as it was.

  Could it have been that simple? That Martha made a choice not because of who he was or wasn’t, but because she’d felt powerless to choose otherwise? Maybe it wasn’t all about him, after all. Maybe he wasn’t a failure as a husband.

  You loved her. She loved you. But sometimes love isn’t enough. We need more.

  God.

  That’s what his mother had counseled. That’s what Rainey had said she’d pray for. For him to know the difference.

  And the difference was God.

  He stared at the rainbow, knowing God was infinite. He could watch over Aiden. Send him help. Give him shelter from the storm, as Isaiah had promised long ago.

  Did Luke dare trust that?

  He did the unthinkable. He pulled off onto the shoulder of the road, stopped the car, put his head in his hands and prayed. “I know I’m stupid, God. I get that. And I know You’ve probably been tempted to wash Your hands of me, but don’t. Please. Watch my boy. My son. Put Your arms around him and keep him safe when I can’t, like now. Hold him. Care for him. And teach me how to be a better father, God. A better man. Amen.”

  Luke sat back, shifted the car into gear, then paused, surprised.

  A second rainbow outlined the first, lighter in shade and intensity, but there nonetheless. And as he drove toward the twin arches, they began to fade, the colors slipping away like quicksilver.

  It didn’t matter. He’d seen them. He understood the message therein, the promise of God’s love.

  As he turned up Log Cabin Road, twin Kirkwood police cruisers streamed by him, lights flashing, sirens blaring. Luke made out more flashing lights up ahead, at the crest of the hill, near his home, but as he drew near, something else caught his eye and his heart.

  The cruisers pulled up a quarter mile short of his house. Two policemen climbed out, and as Luke pulled in behind them, he saw Rainey, holding Aiden, both wet and tear-streaked, but alive and unhurt. But then he looked beyond them, just uphill, to the large, prone figure of a fallen horse.

  Spirit. Dead. Gone.

  The old gelding lay quiet, his big roan head resting on soft green grass, his huge heart silenced forever.

  “Daddy!”

  Sorrow
claimed Luke at the sight of his old friend, but hope surged forth when Aiden broke away from Rainey and raced to his side. “I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have run away. I should have listened to Aunt Hillary and you, and I should have just stayed in our stupid old house with nothing to do, but I didn’t and now Spirit’s dead.”

  “Oh, Aiden.” Luke clutched the boy to his heart, feeling the cold in his wet clothes, his chilled skin, the paths of grubby tears trekking down his little cheeks. “We’ll talk about all that later. You’re okay? You’re all right? Nothing hurts?”

  He pulled back, thrilled that his son was all right, but Aiden’s next words made him haul in a deep breath.

  “Rainey saved me. The bear was coming after me, but Rainey and Spirit chased him down. They scared him, Dad. And Rainey can holler really, really loud, like people in those old cowboy movies you see on TV.”

  “Can she?” He turned toward her now, his heart overflowing with gratitude.

  With love.

  While he’d been face-to-face with his past and God’s future for him, God had sent Rainey to save his son’s life.

  Piper’s words flooded back to him. “She’s always had a sacrificial nature. That’s Rainey.”

  Why had he thought loving her could ever be wrong? Why hadn’t he seen that loving her and God would be the best blessing of all?

  She took a half step forward, and her face—her sweet, beautiful, Madonna-like face—showed immense sorrow. “I shouldn’t have taken Spirit. I’m so sorry, Luke.” She pointed toward the barns. “But he seemed insulted that I even thought of taking Star out instead. And now—”

  “Hush. It’s all right.” Luke put his free arm around her and tried to draw her in, but she pulled back.

  “I have to get home.”

  He understood. The emotions of the moment would make it easy to stay with him, and she held back purposely.

  For now, he’d let her. For now they needed to see to Aiden and Spirit, to treat boy and horse with love and respect. But Rainey McKinney had a surprise coming her way, just in time for a blessed holiday season.

  A holiday season he intended they spend together.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rainey watched as a contingent of sheriff’s deputies took their spots at the crest of the south-facing hill the next afternoon. Chins up, gazes tight, they aimed long guns into the air and fired.

  The sound split the late November day, a tribute to a horse, brave and true. A former deputy, laid to rest on the knoll of deep green pasture.

  Dorrie clung to one of Rainey’s hands. Sonya held the other in a solemn grip, but then she started forward, excited. “Oh, Mommy! There’s Aiden and Luke!”

  Her cry drew Luke’s attention. He spotted them and moved their way, Aiden trotting alongside. Sonya broke free, racing from their quiet corner at the edge of the woods, and barreled toward him. “Oh, Luke!” She grabbed him around the neck and gave his cheek a loud, smacking kiss as he held her. “I’ve missed you so much! And I’m so sorry that Spirit died. Luke, I’ll miss him so much. Why don’t you come see us anymore?” she demanded.

  “I was stupid,” he explained, and both Sonya and Dorrie went round-eyed at his use of a very bad word. “But I’m smarter now and I’d like to come see you. If it’s all right with your mom.”

  Rainey’s heart churned. Sonya turned her way, hopeful.

  Dorrie clutched her arm, expectant. “Of course it’s all right, isn’t it, Mommy? We love Aiden and Luke, don’t we?”

  “I know I love you guys,” Aiden added, his round-eyed gaze sincere. “And I miss playing with you. And Rainey’s cakes.”

  Luke stepped closer, close enough for Rainey to see the tiny points of light in his clear blue eyes. He held her gaze, then indicated the girls. “I can meet you all in church tomorrow. If that’s all right with Mommy.”

  Her heart sped up.

  She took charge of her emotions and reminded herself that anyone could go to church. A mere presence meant little. She knew that firsthand, so chose her words carefully. “I’d love to see you guys in church.”

  His smile softened. “I suspected as much. Rainey, I—”

  A crowd of people began moving their way. Rainey grabbed Dorrie’s hand, then reached for Sonya’s. “I need to get them to a birthday party for one of the girls in Dorrie’s class. I promised I’d bring them here first—” her gaze wandered over the freshly turned earth and she couldn’t hold back a sigh “—to say goodbye.”

  “Rain, I need to—”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?”

  The press of well-wishers drew closer, and the last thing Rainey wanted was to talk with people, listen to their praise. If she’d thought things through, Spirit would have stayed safe in his stall and Star would have ridden uphill with her. Her choice...

  As if listening to a horse was something a normal person would do.

  Cost the old horse his life.

  People were calling her a hero. News accounts had been singing her praises.

  They were wrong, so wrong. Spirit was the hero, and now he was gone.

  She grabbed the girls’ hands and ducked away before she got trapped in the crowd of sympathetic neighbors and friends. She would apologize tomorrow. Ask Luke’s forgiveness. Her eyes strayed to the flower-strewn hillside as she pulled the car out onto the road, the blossoms a tribute to a life well spent. Life was all about choices. When would she start making the right ones?

  * * *

  Rainey sensed the attention aimed her way when she slipped into the beautifully decorated church the next morning. Deep green garlands looped from window to window. Wide red ribbons marked the upswing of each loop. Tiny white silk flowers were tucked beneath the bows, while clear twinkle lights lit the strands from within.

  Tall, broad evergreens stood on either side of the sanctuary, and a smaller version stood in the narthex, a giving tree, filled with names of people who needed help this Christmas. She let each girl pick a paper angel from the tree, and she would use her small stash of money to take them shopping for the needed items. Teaching the girls to give to others meant a great deal to Rainey. Learning to do without while appreciating what they had was a valuable lesson.

  As she settled her daughters with their matching books about the first Christmas, Uncle Berto stepped out of the pew so Luke and Aiden could slide in.

  He’d come.

  He’d promised, yes. She’d heard him. And she saw a warm light in his eyes, a light that seemed brighter than she remembered. But it was Christmastime. Everything seemed brighter at Christmas.

  “May I?” Luke let Aiden wriggle in alongside Lucia and Dorrie, then opened the music issue to the number posted on the vintage oak board up front. “We’re low on books, it seems, but you and I can share. Right?”

  He turned his attention to her, his eyes bright and trusting, filled with light, and his look said he’d come a long way from the doubt-filled man she’d left weeks ago.

  Could that be possible?

  With God, all things are possible.

  Rainey believed that, but...

  Luke’s voice, deep and low, joined in the hymn of Advent. Berto’s off-pitch bass chimed in from behind them. Lucia’s deeply accented soprano rose to their right. And in the middle, the tall, blond sheriff’s deputy sang with genuine warmth and gusto.

  Hearing him, imagining the boy that used to sing these same songs, now a man, coming back to God.

  Rainey’s heart filled with a joyous song that had little to do with music.

  * * *

  Luke sent her flowers on Monday, two beautiful poinsettias, perfect for the farmhouse living room.

  On Wednesday he stopped by with cheesecake from a Buffalo bakery, an unexpected treat that went a long way to winning the entire McKinney clan ba
ck over to his side.

  Friday afternoon a Christmas tree arrived, a full, gorgeous Norway spruce, the deep green branches perfect for decorating. And on Saturday morning a note came, inviting Rainey and the girls to help him and Aiden decorate their home after church on Sunday.

  “I have to work,” Rainey declared as she read the note in the dairy store. She purposely ignored the way her mother rolled her eyes. “Marly is studying for her finals.”

  “You don’t, and you know it,” Lucia retorted. “I will be here, and Noreen has offered to help, as well. We love having you around, but we do not need you tomorrow. Go and help this man who tries so hard now to show you his faith. His love.”

  Rainey sat down on a tall stool, angry with herself. “I can’t. I killed his horse. I should have known better. I should have—”

  “You saved my son’s life.”

  Rainey turned, startled.

  Luke stood just inside the store entrance, his sweet face dark with concern. “Rainey, you’ve given me so much. How can you not know that?”

  His deep voice and gentle empathy drew the attention of some shoppers.

  “Luke, I—”

  “You answered a call for help with no thought to your own safety.” He walked toward her, counting on his fingers as he moved, and more customers caught the drift of the sweet drama unfolding. “You fought your way through a wretched storm, saddled a horse and rode into a squall to save my son’s life. How can you think I’d be anything other than grateful? On top of loving you beyond belief?”

  “I...”

  Their conversation had now drawn the interest of most everyone in the dairy store, but Luke kept his eyes on her. Just her. “When you saw Aiden in danger, you and Spirit chased off a charging black bear, with no concern for your own safety.”

  Customers nodded, clearly impressed.

  Lucia backed away slightly, but not before Rainey spotted the broad smile on her mother’s face.

  “You challenged me to meet God, and I did, Rain. On my way home that day, He reminded me of something I used to know. That while God watches over us, and loves us, people have the gift and responsibility of free will. I forgot that after Martha died.” Luke reached out his hands to clasp hers. “I was so busy shouldering the blame for her death that I forgot to put it in God’s hands. Only He can see the heart and soul.”