Chapter 41
Riley paused just beyond the light that streamed from the bar. People like Darrell tended to travel in packs, so she wasn’t about to dash in waving a bundle of money.
But everything looked okay. Matt was in his Explorer, talking on the radio with Trevor beside him in the passenger seat. The kid was staring through the windshield as if seeing his future spread before him, an endless road leading to an unknown destination. He didn’t look terribly happy, but he looked thoughtful, which was good.
In the center of the circle of light stood Griff, looking solid and strong with one big hand wrapped around Darrell’s arm. The guy wasn’t bruised or battered, so nobody’d lost their temper.
She was almost ashamed at how surprised she was. She knew Griff was a good man. Matt knew it, too, and she wondered if he’d left on purpose to let Griff prove himself. It made her wonder why she’d taken a few moments of frustration as proof he was irredeemably violent.
Probably it was because he’d believed it of himself—but he looked confident now. Confident and calm and in charge.
Most of the residents of Wynott had come out to watch the excitement, creating a party atmosphere. Sierra had taken the kids back to Phoenix House for a movie, but the Decker Ranch cowboys sat on the tailgate of somebody’s pickup truck while a couple of Ed’s friends sat on a bench outside the bar’s back door. She spotted Fawn Swanson standing under a streetlamp, watching Griff, and glowing with… What was that? Pride?
Riley ignored the pain that pierced her at the thought. She’d lost a lot of things in her life, and Griff would just be one more. She’d get over it. She always did. But he’d be the toughest yet.
As she stepped into the light, all eyes were on her. Well, let them watch. She’d give Darrell his money and get him out of town so they could somehow save Trevor. Her part in that project would be leaving a place for him—a healing place.
Boone’s Hardware had healed her. She’d been lucky to find it. And good luck wasn’t something you owned. You couldn’t keep it to yourself. You had to pass it on.
* * *
A hush fell over the crowd. Griff turned to see Riley in the circle of light, heading right toward him. Maybe he hadn’t blown it as badly as he’d thought—but as she got closer, he saw her eyes were on Darrell, not him. She was fishing for something in her pocket when Matt stepped out of the cruiser and stopped her.
“What are you doing?”
She eyed him warily. “Paying off Trevor’s debt.”
“Didn’t you see Darrell’s fancy new bracelets?” He nodded toward the cuffs. “Trust me, he’s not collecting any debts.” He nodded to Griff, who walked the man to the cruiser. Matt loaded him in the back seat, motioning for Griff to help Trevor out of the front.
Griff didn’t know quite what to do with the Only Heir. The kid was pretty beat up and probably ought to go home. The hardware store wasn’t far, but it seemed heartless to make him walk.
The kid glanced around. “You know where Riley went?”
“She’s over there. You know she brought money over to pay off your drug dealer?”
Trevor sniffed, hanging his head. “Yeah.” He kicked at the snow with the toe of a very damp sneaker. “Riley’s the best. All that stuff my great-aunts say about her… It’s bullsh—wrong.” He glanced around. “Where’s the band?”
Riley joined them. “Yeah, what happened to the band?”
Griff smiled. “They skedaddled. Apparently the marshal made ’em nervous.”
“Shi—shoot,” Trevor said. “That was our first paying gig in months.”
“I thought you said they were some hot Denver success story,” Wayne said.
“Well, they’re pretty good,” Trevor said. “They just—they kind of burned a lot of bridges in Denver. Sometimes the lead singer throws up onstage, and one time, the drummer fell asleep.”
Slowly, the crowd was beginning to file back inside. Griff made as if to follow, but he halted just outside the door and leaned against the building, obscured by shadows. Riley, still talking to Trevor, didn’t seem to notice.
“So the Iron Kings kind of squandered their talent, huh?” Riley said.
Trevor grimaced. “Yeah, it’s frustrating. I keep telling ’em not to party until after the show, but…”
“But they can’t control it,” Riley said.
Trevor shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at the snow, poking at it with one foot. “No, they can’t.”
“You’re not having much luck controlling it, either.”
She didn’t ask him; she told him. The kid nodded, his shoulders slumping.
She didn’t respond right away, just stood there, watching him. Griff knew what it was like to be watched by those eyes.
The woman could make a rock confess.
* * *
When Trevor’s shoulders began to shake, Riley gave him a side hug, kind of rough but, she hoped, big-sisterly. “Hey, some of what your aunties said was true, okay? I was as messed up as you. More, probably. I know how easy it is to fall and how hard it is to climb out. But it can be done, okay?”
He nodded, still staring down at his toes. “I’ve tried a bunch of times, but all my friends are into it, and I end up caving every time.”
“Your friends are in Denver, though, and you’re here. That really helps, believe me.”
“I can’t stay, though.” He finally looked up. All the nastiness had left him, and what was left behind was a wayward little brother who needed her help. “I’m not going to take your apartment away or your job. I don’t care what my aunties say.” He sighed. “They’re probably going to disown me anyway.”
“About that,” Riley said. “They already know what’s going on.”
Trevor’s eyes widened. “What? You told them?”
“They saw me getting money out of the safe to pay Darrell. I tried to explain it wasn’t your fault. Not entirely, anyway.”
Trevor grimaced. “Don’t know why you’re helping me. I haven’t been very nice to you.”
“This kind of thing’s a bond. We’ll help each other. Friends, right?”
Trevor gave her a quick, shy smile that fled his face so fast she almost missed it.
“Family,” he muttered.
Her heart ached. It was a sweet sort of ache but deep, so she changed the subject before she embarrassed herself by crying.
“If you work hard for Ed, you won’t have time to even think about drugs. That’s what helped me. But your aunties might want to pay for some cushy rehab joint.”
“No.” His chest heaved as he swallowed a sudden sob. “They won’t pay to help me. They probably won’t even let me go home.”
“Then it’s good you’ve got Ed.”
Trevor shook his head, hard. “But you live there. You work there. Your boyfriend—he said I’d better think about what I was doing to you, and he’s right.”
“Griff’s not my boyfriend. And I don’t live here anymore. I’m leaving.” Riley swallowed hard as she said it, but it was true. Fawn had helped him, made him leave the safety of home and get out among people, where he could heal as she had. All Riley did was… Well, all she did was love him. And that wasn’t smart. As it turned out, he could keep his temper leashed, but she’d been much too ready to believe the worst of him. Besides, she’d promised Fawn.
She turned to give Trevor a hug, and there was Griff, right behind him.
Speak of the devil. Or Santa, or whatever.
Her heart fluttered—or was that the butterflies waving goodbye? He looked away, but she was pretty sure he’d heard.
“Where are you going to go?” Trevor asked.
“Back to Denver.” She glanced up at the star-strewn sky as she led him back inside. She should feel sad. There weren’t this many stars in Denver—but there were more opportunities. A whole univers
e full. “I went through a program there that helped me, and I always said I’d go back and pass it on, you know? So I’m going to work for them.”
I hope.
“You’ll see,” she said. “You’ll get better, and you’ll want to do the same kind of thing someday.”
Chapter 42
Riley stopped as she and Trevor reached the bar. “Hey, did you want to go home and clean up?”
“I’ll do it in the restroom,” he mumbled. “Don’t want my aunties to see me this way.”
Riley started to tell him that was a good idea when she realized Griff had followed them inside. He didn’t look happy, so she turned away, pretending she hadn’t seen him.
Somebody in the bar plinked a high note on the piano, then a low one. A couple experimental chords followed, finally forming themselves into a song. Riley smiled. It had to be Eleanor Carson, who played the piano at the Lutheran church in Grigsby.
Sure enough, Eleanor’s thin, high soprano commanded all the merry gentlemen in the bar to let nothing them dismay. Riley wondered what the merry women were supposed to do, but she still couldn’t help chiming in on the chorus.
Oh, tidings of comfort and joy…
She was surprised when Trevor harmonized with a serviceable tenor and even more stunned when Griff joined in, his voice low and masculine but soft, as if he was singing to himself. He probably thought no one could hear him, but the rich, tender tone melted something inside her.
…comfort and joy, oh tidings of comfort and joy.
Their voices balanced so well—Riley’s whiskey-laced alto, Trevor’s sweet tenor, and Griff’s baritone. Around them stood their neighbors; the men who had so recently armed themselves and surrounded Darrell now held their hats to their chests and sang. The women smiled up at their men and at one another, their smiles linking each to each, saying they were one, they were community, they were family.
Riley wished she could put the scene in a snow globe, preserve it forever in a glass dome with a key on the bottom so she could wind it up and hear the sweetness of the carol anytime she wanted.
As they swung into the next verse, most of the men dropped out, and Riley found herself singing almost alone, with only Eleanor Carson’s thin voice joining her. It was embarrassing, but most folks didn’t know the later verses, and somebody had to help Eleanor out. Riley had loved the classic carols ever since she’d found a ragged paperback as a kid that showed all the lyrics. She’d memorized every one. “Joy to the World,” “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing,” “Away in a Manger”… She loved them all, and that little book had been like a bible to her, teaching her about love and giving all year round.
When the comfort-and-joy part came around again, Griff put his arm around her but in a nice way. Brotherly, she told herself—as if it were possible to be brotherly after the nights they’d shared at the ranch. She looped one arm around his waist and drew Trevor in with the other, and as they sang the chorus, she felt a tenderness she couldn’t quite identify. It was almost like they were a family—she the mom, Griff the dad, and Trevor their troublemaking son—but that was silly.
There’d be no family for her. Not with Griff. That was over. And she couldn’t imagine wanting one with anyone else.
* * *
Everyone clapped at the end of the carol. Griff figured they were clapping for Riley, whose singing had stood out so on the last few verses. She really did have a lovely voice, sweet but low, with a Janis Joplin rasp that made it unique.
But when Riley smiled and turned to him, he realized she was clapping, too, her hands high. He shrugged and joined in, and she laughed, her face alight with joy.
“They’re clapping for you, doofus,” she whispered.
“What?”
He thought she had to be mistaken, but he stopped clapping as Wayne came up and smacked him on the back.
“That was something out there,” he said. “Thought somebody was going to get hurt, but you and Matt sure took care of things.”
Someone he didn’t even know shoved a beer into his hand. “Good job, buddy.”
Next thing he knew, he was at the center of a group of men, all of them talking at once about the drug dealer, how dangerous he was, and how Griff had, in the words of various men, “taken care of him,” “shown him who was boss,” and “defanged that MF-er.”
“Some guys come back from overseas all messed up,” somebody said. “But I heard you were a hero over there, and I guess you’re not done yet.”
Another smack on the back gave Griff a reason to grimace, which was just as well. He hated the “hero” label. It didn’t fit, and he knew he was still messed up—but he didn’t want to talk about what had happened.
His stomach started to hurt as the crowd lifted their plastic cups of beer, because he hadn’t been a hero tonight, either. He just hung onto the guy while Ed, Riley, and the marshal took care of business, but everyone seemed happy and a little drunk, so he didn’t protest. After a while, they turned to other things, and he found himself enjoying the Christmas joy that hung in the air like the green and red crepe paper streamers that swayed in the breeze from the heating vents. Every face gleamed with happiness—although the effects of Wayne’s famous Black Russians and the mulled cider he had cooking in a Crock-Pot contributed quite a bit to the festive mood.
Bucky Maines from the feed store shook Griff’s hand. “Matt said he offered you the deputy position,” said Bucky. “I hope you’re going to take it.”
“Thinking about it,” Griff muttered.
Riley turned, wide-eyed. He wished she’d smile, but she just looked shocked.
“Matt’s going to run for the legislature someday,” Bucky said. “That would give you a chance at being town marshal. We’d sure like to see that.” He gave Griff a nudge and a crafty grin. “Saw you with Fawn Swanson. Now, that’s the kind of woman who’d be an asset to your campaign. You need to think about that kind of thing, you know.”
Bucky had it all wrong. There was only one woman Griff wanted, and he needed to convince her that he was, in fact, her boyfriend and talk her out of leaving town.
As the crowd around him thinned, she put a hand on his arm. He smiled down at her, hoping she wanted what he did. If she went home with him, maybe she’d change her mind. There was a lot of comfort and joy to be had back home at the ranch.
But she nodded toward the bar and gave him a push. Looking up, he saw Fawn Swanson perched on a barstool, looking right at him.
She looked adorable but like she was trying a bit too hard, with every hair in place and perfectly applied makeup. She was wearing one of those ugly Christmas sweaters, but you could tell it was one that had been made to order, not something cool she’d found in a Goodwill store. In contrast, Riley’s hair was tangled from her run to the hardware store, her cheeks pinked by the cold, her eyes alight behind lashes still damp from the snow. And she was still wearing the green felt elf costume. How could Fawn compete with that?
When Fawn caught Griff’s eye, she patted the stool beside her. All the seats at the bar were taken, but that one was occupied only by her purse.
Dammit, she was saving him a seat.
“Go ahead,” Riley said. “She’s been watching you all night, and you know she’s hoping you’ll say yes to Matt. If you’re really going to do that, you two have a lot more than Christmas to celebrate.” She bumped his shoulder with her own and gave him a wink. “Go get her, tiger.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Griff, come on.” Riley rolled her eyes.
“I’m with you tonight,” he said. “Fawn came on her own.”
Riley laughed. “Come on. I saw her whispering sweet nothings in your ear when you walked in. You were together. And honestly, I don’t mind.”
“I was just being polite,” he said.
She gave him an eye roll. “I’ve seen you be polite to he
r before.”
“That wasn’t…”
“Never mind. That was catty.” She shook her hair out of her face, making the elf bells ring. “I’m heading back to the store with Trevor. The sooner he faces Carol and Diane, the sooner he’ll be able to get on with his recovery.”
Griff took a sip of his beer, then set it on a nearby table. “I’ll go with you.”
“No need,” she said. “Fawn’s waiting, and you don’t owe me a thing, okay? I know you two belong together, and so does everyone else. You heard Bucky, right? And you know you’ve been crazy about her half your life.” She punched his arm. “So go. Have fun.”
He looked down at her. His mouth was moving, but no sound would come out. Why did she keep shoving him at Fawn? Was it her way of saying she didn’t care? He didn’t believe that. He’d felt the emotions that surrounded them when they… Well. Those feelings were real, and he’d been sure they went both ways.
At least, he’d been sure until Riley went to leave the ranch. Maybe he’d killed any love she had for him when he’d manhandled her.
Maybe.
But he didn’t think so. There was still an openness in her gaze, an honesty in her smile, so maybe it was just that she was so used to loss that she expected him to move on. Sometimes she seemed to see herself as less than Fawn, which was ridiculous. Or maybe she was punishing herself for past misdeeds and thought she didn’t deserve happiness.
But she did. And Fawn Swanson would have to enjoy the company of her purse until she gave up on Griff and let some other man sit beside her.
Chapter 43
When Trevor came out of the men’s room, Riley gave him a smile and a thumbs-up. Smiling wasn’t easy after what she’d heard Bucky say. He’d looked right at her when he’d said it, and some of the men with him, the ones congratulating Griff, had looked at her, too. She understood those looks. She got them all the time.
Griff needed a woman who was more like Fawn—one who’d been born in this ranch community, with a background that was blemish-free. One who’d be “an asset to his campaign.” But knowing it was true didn’t make it hurt any less, so Riley was glad to have Trevor’s troubles to distract her. There was no hiding that shiner, but he’d combed his hair and washed his face, and he looked…better. She slung an arm around his shoulders and gave him a friendly shake.
Blue Sky Cowboy Christmas Page 24