Colorado Christmas

by C. C. Coburn

  “The court records will prove that I didn’t show any bias toward your case. You presented a very reasonable argument, so I granted the injunction.” She laughed and said, “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when Jason Whitby sees this!”

  “Ah, hello?” Will waved his hand in front of her eyes. “Care to share the funny part with me?”

  “The development company, through their PR bungling, has slandered me. And you.”

  “But we are lovers. Or were, for one night,” he reminded her.

  “They have no proof of that. I’m going to sue the backsides off those jerks!” she declared and turned to Will, her eyes alight. “By printing this garbage, they’ve exposed themselves. By trying to ruin my reputation and discredit you, and therefore regain support for developing the site, they’ve made a huge mistake. It puts you in a very good negotiating position to buy back the buildings.” She chuckled. “Jason Whitby’s going to freak when he reads this!”

  “I’d better call Mom. She’s worried for you.”

  “Let me call her in that case. I’ll explain everything and set her mind at ease.”

  With Sarah mollified and offering her utmost support, Becky headed off to the courthouse. She had some work to do for herself this morning, starting libel proceedings against the development company. She rubbed her hands together, enthusiastic about taking charge of her career and her future. There was no way she was going to let anyone get away with maligning her character and disparaging her decisions.

  SHORTLY BEFORE NINE, Becky pressed the send button on an e-mail to Jason Whitby, then entered the courtroom for the morning’s session.

  At 9:05, a message was passed to her. Jason Whitby wanted to speak to her urgently.

  She returned to her case. Jason Whitby could wait.

  There was a larger-than-usual audience and Becky surmised that many had come to see if she’d make a public statement.

  During her first recess, Whitby called again—apparently he’d been calling every few minutes. At first he tried his smarmy lawyer approach, flattering her, apologizing profusely for his client’s stupid mistake, begging her forgiveness.

  Becky enjoyed hearing him debase himself, then cut him off midsentence. “Mr. Whitby! In future you can communicate with me through my lawyer.”

  At the interruption, he turned nasty, threatening her with dire consequences to her career if she didn’t drop the suit. At any other time, a threat like that would have Becky seriously thinking of backing down, but her ire was up and she was out for blood.

  “You wouldn’t by any chance be making a direct threat to a judge of the Colorado courts, would you?” she snapped.

  “No, of course not, Becky, er, Judge. I merely wanted to warn you that you were in an untenable position.”

  “I think you should be using those words to your client.”

  “Oh, come on! Surely we can do a deal that protects your reputation and my client’s. You don’t want the sordid details of your affair with a defendant splashed all over the Denver papers, do you?”

  And now he’d returned to form. He was so predictable. “For a start, there is nothing sordid going on between me and Will O’Malley. I employed him as a caregiver for my son during the holidays. If you want to make a big deal out of a male taking that role, then bring it on. I’d be only too happy to point out that this is a small town and it was difficult to find suitably qualified caregivers. I’d also point out what a remarkable difference I’ve seen in my disabled—” Becky put the emphasis on the word, although she hated to use it to further her ends “—son, during the short time Will O’Malley has been caring for him. I’m sure you’d like to take on all the groups that represent people with disabilities and tell them just who is and who is not suitable to care for their children.”

  “There’s the photo—”

  “What photo? The one with me smiling at a joke Will made?”

  “It looks like you’re smiling at more than that.”

  Becky sighed to indicate she was bored with their conversation. “If you say so. I’ve wasted enough time talking to you. I’ll have my lawyer contact you.” She hung up, grinning with glee. Now she needed a lawyer. Someone local would be perfect and would send the message that she had nothing to hide, nothing to defend. Using a big-city lawyer of Jason Whitby’s ilk might suggest otherwise.

  Mike Cochrane had recently moved back to Spruce Lake and was looking for clients. She liked his easygoing yet competent manner. After putting a call through to his office, she returned to the courtroom.

  But as the next session got under way, the courtroom gradually cleared. Becky noticed that a note was being passed among the audience and was tempted to ask what was going on.

  By lunchtime, the audience consisted only of family members of the defendants.

  Her phone rang as she entered her office. Tempted to let it ring, since she didn’t need any more grief from Jason Whitby, she instead snatched it up and barked, “What?”

  “Whoa, there!”

  Becky relaxed at the sound of Will’s voice. “I’m sorry,” she said with a smile, picturing him. “Can we start again?”

  “If you’re having a bad day, Judge, then I suggest you take a lunchtime walk down to the old buildings.”

  She decided to do just that. Ten minutes later, Becky was having trouble getting through to the site, as the street was jammed with honking vehicles and outside-broadcast vans from Denver and national television networks.

  There was a staccato roar. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but the placards carried by nearly everyone told the story.

  Hands Off Our Buildings!

  Hands Off Our Judge!

  Take Your Dirty Tricks and Stick Them Where the Sun…

  Becky didn’t need to read the rest of that one, carried by Frank Farquar. Louella wore a sign around her neck. Becky was trying to read it when Will spotted her and made his way through the crowd, his face glowing with joy. “What do you think of this protest?” he asked.

  “Overwhelming,” she said with a grin and pointed to the signs. “Were you responsible for these?”

  “I wish I could take the credit, but most of them were done by Miss P. and the folks at the Twilight Years.”

  Becky spotted several seniors in the placard-carrying group.

  “The article has really brought people out in support of you.” Will gestured at more signs. Our Judge Fights Fair! Dirty Developers No Match for Honorable Judge. Spruce Lake Supports Judge Becky!

  Becky couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “Oh, my,” she finally murmured.

  Several protestors saw her standing on the edge of the crowd and a cheer went up. The television cameras swung her way. Being the center of attention was not what she wanted.

  A microphone was shoved into her face and a reporter asked, “Judge McBride, what was your reaction to the piece in this morning’s local paper?”

  She managed to swallow the lump in her throat and said, “The protest to save the old buildings on this site has brought out the very best in people, and the very worst in others.” She bit her tongue, not mentioning the mayor, Jason Whitby and anyone who wanted to destroy the heritage of this very special town. “I’m grateful for the support of the people of Spruce Lake. This is a wonderful, caring community and I shall continue to serve the citizens of Spruce Lake to the best of my ability until my term ends in a few months.”

  A barrage of questions from other journalists followed, but Will insinuated himself between them and Becky, effectively protecting her. He took over, allowing Becky to slip away, back to the courthouse.

  She concentrated on breathing in the fresh mountain air and replayed the sight of the protest in her head, feeling a tiny thrill at the community’s support. It also helped her come to a few decisions regarding her future and Spruce Lake.

  Back in her chambers, she put through a call to Judge Stevens. By the time she’d finished, Mike Cochrane was waiting to see her.

 
“JUDGE MCBRIDE?” Her assistant interrupted Becky’s thoughts as she wound down from the afternoon session. “Will O’Malley’s on the line.”

  Smiling, Becky picked up the phone and was assailed by noise and cheering. She could barely hear Will above it.

  “Get your glad rags on, Your Honor, we’re celebrating tonight!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The development company is pulling out and they want to sell us the buildings!”

  “That’s wonderful, Will! Congratulations.”

  There was a pause. “I’m sorry about the article in the paper. It tipped everything in our favor. But I feel bad for you.”

  “Don’t. I’ve had quite an eventful day and come to a few decisions regarding my future.”

  “I hope it includes me?”

  “We’ll see,” she said enigmatically.

  “Oh, the judge is teasing me,” he said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. “Care to join us all at Rusty’s for a celebratory drink?”

  “Just try and keep me away. Where’s Nicolas?”

  “Right here beside me. Sash and Daisy, too. They’re on to their second round of root-beer floats. I’m amazed the little guy hadn’t tried one till I took him to Rusty’s the day school ended.”

  Becky experienced a pang of regret at all the things other kids probably took for granted and Nicolas had missed out on. All of that was going to change!

  “I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes,” she said and hung up the phone.

  RUSTY’S WAS NEARLY BURSTING at the seams when Becky pushed through the door. A rousing cheer went up when the crowd became aware of her arrival.

  Will bounded up to her. Becky was afraid he might kiss her in front of everyone, but he seemed mindful of the television cameras present and instead clasped her hand and shook it.

  “I’m the one who should be shaking your hand,” she yelled above the din as Will drew her away to a quieter corner of the bar. “When I first met you in court, I didn’t think you and your protest group would have a snowflake’s chance in hell of getting the development company to back down. The fact that they’ve also agreed to sell to you is quite a coup, Will. Well done.”

  He grinned and leaned close. “You can kiss me later.” He leaned back again and frowned as he examined her face. “You look different. What’s going on?”

  “I’ve made a few decisions regarding my future.”

  “You dodged giving me any details when I phoned. Fess up.” Will took a long draft of beer, then put the bottle on the bar and braced his arm against the wall behind her.

  “Okay, if you must know, I called Judge Stevens this afternoon.”

  Will stiffened. “You’re leaving?”

  Placing her hand on his chest, she could feel the strong beat of his heart beneath her palm and it gave her strength. “No, I’m staying.”

  Will grinned. He was about to say something but she held up her hand.

  “When Judge Stevens returns to work, we’re going to job share. She’s enjoying being a mom too much to want to return to work full-time. But she does want to work. So we’ve figured out this scenario, pending official approval. That way I can spend more time with Nicolas. I’ve missed too much of his childhood already and I don’t want to miss any more. I can live here very comfortably on a part-time judge’s salary.”

  “But you had your heart set on a promotion in Denver.”

  “I did. But the events of the past few days and a few things your mom said at the barbecue have made me rethink what I really want from life, and it isn’t power, position or even money. I want to be happy and I want Nicolas to be happy and have friends. I think I’ve found where I want to spend the rest of my life.”

  Will’s face broke into the broadest grin. He was about to pull her into his arms, but once again she put a staying hand on his chest.

  “I want to say something before you congratulate me on realizing what’s really important in life.”

  “O…kay.” His agreement was measured.

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. You’re not obligated to date me or spend time with me or Nicolas just because we’re going to be permanent residents of the town. I’d hate it if you ended up resenting me or feeling that having me around is cramping your need for freedom, to be yourself. To…date other women.”

  “Are you kidding? Sweetheart, I want to be with you! This is the best news I’ve had all day. It even trumps the development company pulling out.” He hauled her into his arms and kissed her long and hard.

  “Am I interrupting anything?”

  Matt’s voice did indeed interrupt something, but Becky was grateful. She was also grateful the rest of the bar couldn’t see her and Will locked in their embrace, since Matt was blocking anyone’s view.

  “Come and join the party, you two, before those cameras find you slinking around in dark corners,” he said.

  There was much handshaking and backslapping as the bar swelled with more well-wishers, and Will related to his parents and to Becky the reason for the development company’s turnaround. “Their official line is that in the face of such well-organized opposition, they didn’t see any growth worth pursuing in the town in the foreseeable future.” He rolled his eyes. “The unofficial line is that they overstepped the mark, assumed they could walk all over the citizens of a small town, destroy its heritage and defame their judge—” he pulled Becky close “—and get away with it. The delays incurred by further protests and a pending lawsuit meant it wasn’t fiscally prudent for them to stay in the town.”

  Becky smiled to herself. She’d tell Will later how she and Mike Cochrane had struck a deal with the development company. She’d drop the lawsuit if they agreed to sell the buildings back for what they’d paid for them. The development company was only too glad to get out of Spruce Lake, since their public profile had taken such a battering. They’d wanted to make a profit, but Mike had stood his ground and convinced them any profits they stood to make would be swallowed up in a further lawsuit, and their reputations would be irreparably damaged as a result. By midafternoon, the deal had been struck.

  The protestors had won their fight, with a little help from Becky.

  Looking around at the happy faces at Rusty’s, she felt her heart ache. Although the O’Malleys had made her and Nicolas feel welcome at their family gatherings, she didn’t belong here. Not yet, anyway. She didn’t know how to put down roots that would go deep enough to be permanent and bonds that would never break, no matter how difficult the hardship, no matter how testing the circumstances. She’d never had the opportunity to be part of anything really worthwhile—apart from her relationship with Nicolas.

  But Becky knew she wanted this, wanted to feel a sense of belonging, to someone, to a community. All evening, she was intensely aware of Will beside her.

  “Kiss me,” he murmured, while the crowd sang, appropriately enough, “O, Little Town of Bethlehem.” His hand cupped her chin, turning her face toward his.

  “I don’t—” she began, interrupted when Will’s mouth covered hers, warding off all conscious thought. Her only awareness was of Will’s lips on hers, and, oh, they felt so good. He brushed his lips over hers, then deepened the kiss.

  When the crowd cheered, they sprang apart like a pair of schoolkids caught making out behind the gymnasium. Becky could feel herself blushing. She looked around. Everyone was smiling—even Luke O’Malley.

  So much for keeping what was happening with her and Will a secret!

  She glanced over at Nicolas sitting in a booth with Luke’s daughters and Miss Patterson. He held up his hand, his thumb and forefinger joined in an okay sign as he beamed from ear to ear.

  “I’VE GOT AN APPOINTMENT at the bank tomorrow,” Will said as they walked home together. Nicolas, at Sarah’s insistence, was spending the night at the ranch.

  It had started snowing. Fat, lazy flakes drifted down, and Becky decided it was her favorite type of snow. She loved walking in it and
would always associate it with Christmas in the Colorado Rockies.

  “I’m arranging a loan to buy back the old buildings, using my ranch land as collateral. They’ve generously agreed to let me develop the land myself, rather than having to sell it off to someone else.” He put his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her closer. “I get to write the covenants, and the wildlife will be protected. It’s turned out better than I could’ve hoped.”

  She kissed his cheek, no longer caring who saw them or what they thought about it. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

  “Why, thank you, ma’am.” Will offered her a deep bow, then straightened. “Although I think the development company shooting themselves in the foot helped speed matters up.” He bent to scoop up some snow and attempted to fashion it into a ball, but the snow was too dry to stick and it fell apart.

  “I have people wanting to be tenants of the old buildings once they’re restored. Others want to buy into the condos and houses.” He shook his head in astonishment. “I can’t believe how fast word has spread about the plans for the site. I suspect Jack’s been doing some campaigning of his own. Frank told me tonight he’s moving back to town and wants one of the Victorian houses. I have it on good authority that Lou and Charles approve of the move.”

  Becky smiled at the vision of Louella lounging on the front porch of a Victorian home. “I’m delighted he and Edna seem to have put their differences aside. I saw them sharing a booth tonight and they looked very contented in each other’s company.”

  Will nodded. “Maybe we should be thanking the development company, after all.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “For a start, we wouldn’t have met, which means I might never have met Nick and you wouldn’t have adopted Dugald. Frank and Edna wouldn’t have had the protest movement to throw them together. I wouldn’t have found out what an astute investor I was all those years ago—Hey!” he protested as Becky punched his arm lightly. He grabbed her elbows and tugged her toward him. “And I wouldn’t have found a job that interests me enough to stay in the town.”