A Blessed Blue Christmas
Page 7
To Sloan, the man sounded unhinged. Then it hit. He was obsessed. No doubt Rusty imagined Carrie needed him instead of Ken and took matters beyond the norm.
“So now I don’t care how you do it, even a ‘stray’ bullet would work. Here.”
“That’s quite a wad you got there. Five thousand, you say?”
“That’s what I said. And ten after the job.”
“What did you say the farmer’s name is again?”
“Kenneth Delisi.”
“Let’s move, Deputy.” Sloan jumped out of the corncrib, gun in hand.
Chet took a stance on Ewing’s other side.
The deputy unsnapped the strap on his gun holster.
Ewing cursed.
“That about sums it up,” Sloan said. “U.S. Marshal at your service.”
The guy kicked Sloan in the shin with his cowboy boot heel and took off at a run, surprising them all.
That’s what Sloan got for letting his guard down by thinking of Dahlia.
Chet stood at the open car door.
The deputy pulled his firearm.
Sloan reached Ewing first with a flying tackle.
Ewing punched him before Sloan grabbed for Ewing’s flailing fists.
Chet held Ewing’s ankles and slammed down his shins, yanking one arm behind him.
Sloan grabbed the other arm, jammed a knee in Ewing’s back, and cuffed him.
They hauled him to his feet.
Sloan and Chet took an elbow and the deputy opened the van slider.
“Rusty Ewing, you are under arrest for the solicitation to murder.” Sloan said, relieved he could wrap up this case. “Let’s take a ride.”
The ride couldn’t be over quick enough.
The man screamed obscenities. He jabbed his elbows and cursed and carried on all the way to Lincoln.
Dahlia better trust Sloan now. He had stood by his promise to keep Ken safe.
Was that enough?
****
“Oh, my goodness. Hello again, Sloan.” Her mother hugged them both before they removed their wraps. “Happy New Year! Dahlia, you’re a bit late. It took everything I had not to scald the milk in the broccoli cheese soup.”
“Sorry about that,” Dahlia said, sliding out of her cape. “Guess I forgot to tell you I was going to church with Sloan.”
“Church again? Better watch out. It could become a habit. A good one I fully endorse.” Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “Ron, did you hear that?”
“I’m right behind you. It’s about time, honey.”
“Thanks, Dad. Yes, thanks to Sloan, I’ve returned to my first love, Jesus. My second love, Sloan, if he’ll have me, and my third love, worship music. Hope my violin is still around here somewhere.”
Sloan pulled her to his side and kissed her temple. “As much as I’d like to get into my being your second love, I’d like to talk to all of you.”
“Come on in and sit. Ken is finally getting out of the house, lazing around has made him antsy. Carrie has been great putting up with his moods. Tonight, she’s the one restless enough to have ants in her pants.”
“Mom, that’s such an old cliché.”
“Well I have some news that should help everyone go into the New Year on a positive note,” Sloan offered.
Nothing sounded in the room except for the crackling fire.
Dahlia went to her brother, kissed the corner of his yellow and purple bruised eye, trying to ignore the tingles Sloan’s hand created as he guided her to the floral loveseat.
Excitement tinged the air, along with the heat from the fireplace.
Sloan took his seat next to Dahlia, at an angle where he could see all of them.
Her father reached for her mother’s hand, where they’d settled themselves on the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table.
“What’s your news, son?”
More tingles for Dahlia, hearing her dad address Sloan as son.
“You know I’m a U.S. Marshal with Lancaster County Sheriff’s Office Criminal Division. Ken, the ammonia explosion was not an accident. And you couldn’t have done a thing to avoid it.”
Dahlia’s mother smothered gasped.
Her father sputtered.
Ken sucked in a breath.
Carrie put a restraining hand on his thigh. “Wait.”
“Second, I actually met Dahlia because of Carrie’s connection to an obsessed criminal. Your only fault was talking to a patron of Hickman’s.”
Ken peered at Carrie with a frown of disbelief and then shot Sloan a questioning look.
Sloan answered with a nod and slid his gaze from one person the next, including them all. “I’m officially letting you know I was on the case of a person rumored to be looking for a killer for hire. Carrie’s name came up because the perp spent time at the Trackside Bar. Before he made contact with our undercover deputy, who posed as a hit man, Rusty Ewing cut through the hose at the rear mount of the tractor, in hopes the ammonia explosion would kill Ken and pass as an accident.”
“Who’s Rus—”
Carrie broke in and cupped Ken’s face, speaking into her husband’s eyes. “Kenny, believe me, I did nothing to encourage him. He picked up on something needy in me and thought he could save me somehow. But we know it’s OK, now. You know how much I love you.”
Ken’s leg bounced underneath Carrie’s hand.
Dahlia’s mother covered her mouth and scooted closer to her husband.
Dahlia’s father pulled her mom in where she nestled at his side.
“Carrie’s not to blame. More will come out as we go along. Ewing was fixated on her. Deputies found a mirror plastered with Carrie’s photographs.”
Sloan had described the sting in a matter-of-fact tone. But he put off tension in waves that surrounded them both.
Dahlia’s body touched him from shoulder to thigh, and he felt more like an old iron tractor seat than human flesh.
Through the whole telling, Dahlia thought how she’d wronged Sloan by not believing in him to do his job and keep Ken safe.
“Enough,” Mom said. “We’re here to usher in new beginnings. Let’s eat.”
They all stood.
Ken and Carrie exchanged whispers.
Hand in hand, they turned to their family and their faces broke into smiles as they said together, “We’re having a baby!”
“How much can a heart take? Congratulations.” Dahlia hugged Sloan first.
“Hey, I’m not having a baby, but thanks for the hug.”
“I’m just so happy.”
The news put joy back in her family and they ate dinner with gusto.
Once the cleanup was done the night wound down.
Dahlia’s parents went to bed, admonishing them to turn out the lights when they left.
Ken and Carrie sat and talked for a little while, but it was obvious they were tired, too.
“Are you ready to head back to Lincoln?” Sloan asked.
Dahlia nodded, noting the relief on Carrie’s glowing face.
Sloan wrapped her coat around her, and they stepped out the door. Outside, they held hands and moseyed along the walk.
The night shone clear, and one star in the eastern sky appeared the brightest.
“Well, it was kind of a blue Christmas for my brother,” Dahlia said, fighting tears, “but thanks for adding a New Year’s blessing.”
“I’d say the blessings have nothing to do with me. Come on. It’s cold. I sneaked out and the pickup should be warm,” Ken said.
She hadn’t even noticed it was running, but now she saw vapor from the exhaust rising in the chill air, alive with the promise of Christmas miracles, followed by new beginnings.
Sloan made sure her coat wasn’t in the door before he closed it, and then he ran around and climbed in his side.
A beautiful song played on the radio.
They listened, holding hands, enraptured by the words. They both wiped tears.
“I’m pleased to see you’re not too tough to cry,”
she said.
“It gets me every time I hear about a little boy giving his dying mother red dancing shoes for Christmas. May I plan to spend all the rest of my Christmases with you? If you’ll have me, my beloved, blue Dahlia.”
“That could be arranged. The same as spending the rest of my nights with you. Just look out at that magnificent, midnight blue sky.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and they gazed into the night sky.
“Before we head home, I’d like to pray.” Sloan clasped her hands and held them at the base of his throat. “Thank you, dear God, for knowing us. For bringing us together, for showing Dahlia I love her. Be with Ken and Carrie as they plan their future with a new baby. Bless us as we plan to spend the rest of our days and nights together. And thank You for our families.”
“Sloan, I love you. Despite the circumstance that brought us together again, I’ve had a blessed Christmas because I learned to trust God again. And He has enabled me to find my way. Forgive me for not believing earlier? I want to spend the rest of my Christmases and New Years with you. I will trust you for the rest of my life.”
“How about for the rest of our life?”
“Our forever life, together.”
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AMDG