Lost Christmas Memories

by Dana Mentink

  She blinked hard. “I need to.”

  “Why, Pockets?”

  His soft tone nearly made her sob as she tried to find the words. “I feel like...like we’re connected somehow, Nan and I. I was there when someone ended her life and she... I mean... I’m responsible for seeing that she gets justice.”

  “That’s a lot of weight on your shoulders.”

  She managed a wan smile. “I can take it. I...” Suddenly a lump formed in her throat. “I helped my father pass from this life to the next, and I can do the same for Nan. I don’t look like it, but I’m strong.”

  His gaze was filled with such warmth and admiration, it almost made her start blubbering right then and there.

  “Yes, you are,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  Somehow they made it to the storage shelter. Cyclone barked and beelined to the same spot as before. Tracy swallowed hard against the bile in her throat. “It’s the one with the broken slat.”

  Mitch and Regina pressed in, scanning the sides of the crates.

  Bryce peered over their shoulders.

  After a moment Regina straightened. “There isn’t one with a broken slat.”

  “There,” Tracy said, breaking from Keegan’s grasp to point to the correct spot. Only she couldn’t.

  There was no crate with a broken slat.

  The container that had been Nan Ridley’s coffin was gone.

  EIGHTEEN

  Everyone’s gaze shifted to Tracy as John Larraby joined them. Keegan clutched Tracy to his side, fearing that her knees would give out.

  “Cyclone’s sniffed out something,” he said. “The crate must have been moved.”

  John clicked his pen until Keegan wanted to break it in two.

  “Did you see anybody doing so? Moving the crate?” John asked.

  “No,” Keegan admitted, “but I wasn’t looking.”

  “We were busy with a couple of loose bulls.” Owen’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient timing, wouldn’t you say? Those bulls getting loose before Tracy could get help?”

  Mitch snorted. “Oh, yeah. That’s a diversion now? Maybe we should call it like it is. This woman is wackadoodle. She’s showed up blabbing about a murder, only there wasn’t one, and now we’re supposed to believe there was a body, but there’s nothing here.”

  “Back off, Mitch,” Keegan said.

  “No, you back off. We put a lot of money and time into the Silver Spurs show, and this girl has tried her best to ruin it for some reason. Maybe she’s looking for a payoff or maybe she’s just crazy, but I’m done with the whole thing.”

  Keegan let go of Tracy. “I’m not gonna let you talk about her like that.”

  Mitch pulled back a fist and punched Keegan in the cheek. The impact rocked him backward a couple of steps but he was up in a moment, ready to go after Mitch, but his brothers each grabbed him by an arm.

  “Easy, Keeg,” Owen warned.

  Bryce and Regina restrained Mitch.

  “All right,” Bryce said. “I’m sorry to have to say this, but I really think you need mental help, Miss Wilson. I understand you’ve suffered a loss recently. John says your father...”

  Tracy bent slightly at the waist as if she was in pain. “Please, don’t say any more.”

  “All right. I have to get back now. We’ve got an opening ceremony to conduct and a horse show to run, and I don’t want one more lick of trouble.” He released Mitch and nodded to John. “If you need anything else from me, you know where to find me, son.”

  Son. Keegan bit back the angry tirade that was itching to burst forth. He shook his brothers off and went to Tracy, but she waved him away.

  “Tracy.”

  Her eyes gleamed with a harsh light, mouth tight. “Please,” she whispered. “I just want to go home. That’s all.”

  Keegan looked at John, who nodded. “I’ll follow up for a statement, but it can wait awhile.”

  Keegan knew John probably agreed with Mitch that Tracy was crazy, but he appreciated the leeway to get her out of there. They walked slowly back to the truck where Grandpa Stew was waiting.

  “What? Did you find her? Is it over?”

  Tracy tried to speak but nothing came out, so he helped her into the truck and quickly filled Stew in.

  Stew’s eyes widened. “What sort of game is this?” he murmured. “Who could have moved a corpse?”

  Keegan’s eyes roamed the gathering. Who had been close by to hear Tracy’s discovery? Someone strong who could have let out the bulls and moved the crate in the time it took to secure the animals, maybe loaded it into a vehicle? Or perhaps it had been two people working together?

  Bryce Larraby.

  Mitch Arnold.

  Regina Parker.

  Any of the stable hands.

  As he helped Grandpa Stew in beside her, Keegan saw his father take the dais in the outdoor amphitheater, the guests seated on hay bales to watch his talk.

  Bryce gestured to a slender woman, striking and stylish, hair short and sleek, and two neatly groomed teen boys, who joined him on the stage. Bryce curved an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “I’d like to introduce you to Marie and our two sons, Danny and Clark, the lights of my life.”

  Keegan watched John, who stood with arms folded, listening.

  Two sons. The lights of my life.

  As the phrase echoed, John turned away, walking to his squad car.

  Welcome to my world, Keegan thought, and he wanted to revel in the fact that his half brother understood what rejection felt like. John deserved to suffer for all the misery he’d heaped on Keegan, the constant reminders that John was accepted and Keegan was not. Instead, as he watched John walk to his car with slumped shoulders, he experienced only a hollow sensation in his gut. Sorrow perhaps, or regret, Bree might have labeled it, but to him it felt like an endless ride to a place he no longer wanted to go.

  The laughter of the crowd rose and fell as they hung upon Mayor Bryce Larraby’s every word. Loose bulls and lost corpses would do nothing to derail Bryce’s meticulously planned event. The mayor, the small-town benefactor, a father figure to the whole town would set things right. When the darkness in Keegan’s heart threatened to choke him, he jammed his hat down on his brow.

  You’ll have your chance later, Keegan. Take care of Tracy. He got behind the wheel and took the road out of town.

  Tracy was silent, staring at her fingers twisted together in her lap.

  Grandpa Stew shot him a questioning look.

  He shook his head. I don’t know what to say, either.

  After a moment he cleared his throat. “How about we stop at the Gold Bar? I—”

  “No,” Tracy said. “I want to go home.”

  The way her voice trembled when she said it, barely a whisper, made his gut hitch. “Okay.”

  By the time they reached the lonely property in the foothills, he prayed that he’d figure out something, anything, to break through the wall of shock and grief that now stood between them.

  “There’s no danger anymore,” she said when he unlocked the cabin door and ushered her inside. Grandpa headed to the kitchen and began to rattle the coffeepot. “I’ve been proven crazy in front of everyone. Maybe I am crazy.”

  He gripped her arms. “No, you’re not. You saw Nan Ridley murdered, and someone at the center is hiding the truth.”

  “That’s what you want to believe,” she said, eyes burning. “Because you want to see your father brought low.”

  “Not true.”

  “Yes, it is.” Tears glimmered in the weak light. “I can see it in your face when you look at him with more passion than you...”

  Look at me? Why did he have the feeling that was how she meant to complete the sentence?

  “Tracy, what I feel for you is... I mean, I...”

 
; “What?” Her hazel eyes demanded an answer. “What is there between us besides your need to protect me and punish your father?”

  He did not know how to answer. Confusion warred with affection, devotion, angst, fear and everything in between. He thought they’d had an understanding, but now he felt as if he understood nothing. All the words got tangled up inside his mouth, so he did the only thing he could think of. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her long and slow. She kissed him back, tenderly, so sweetly it both broke his heart and mended the jagged pieces together in that one delicious moment in time. It felt so wonderful, so unlike anything he’d ever experienced, that he drew back so he would not be lost in it altogether.

  What was she to him? A means to an end? A woman who needed protecting? A woman who’d roped his heart? The kiss left him unable to come up with a single answer.

  * * *

  The kiss was warm comfort, a balm to her ache, and Tracy let herself feel it in every cell of her body until he pulled away. Her breathing was uneven as she stayed close to him for a minute more until her doubts intruded again.

  He did not want to have a relationship with her, not in the way she needed. Ulterior motives, as her grandpa would say. How the knowledge burned, but it was a pain to indulge later. Now was not the time to let her defenses down. She moved away, fighting for calm, and Keegan cleared his throat as her grandpa returned. “Coffee’ll take a few minutes.”

  She nodded and the room fell into painful silence. She felt the worried glances from both her grandpa and Keegan, but she could not bring herself to meet their eyes. Her mind was a numb void, thoughts whirling like startled birds that could not land anywhere, the warmth of his kiss fading away into that dark abyss, too.

  She did not know how much time had passed until she found herself deposited on the sofa with a mug of hot coffee in her hand, which Grandpa Stew had prepared while Keegan lit a fire to warm the cold cabin. She watched Keegan’s back. Had she really shared a kiss with him, or was her mind making up things now to fill in the gaps in her ragged memory? But the tingling of his lips on hers remained, the only spot of comfort, which was certainly what he’d intended. Comfort, protection, justice...but not love. Not that.

  Grandpa fussed around, straightening things and making them even more crooked, restacking the kindling pile only to knock it more askew.

  “It’s okay,” she told him. “I’m okay. I just need to think this out for a minute.”

  He looked dubious. Cyclone paced around his legs, feeling his uncertainty.

  “Why don’t you take Cyclone and see what you think about the fencing?” Keegan said. “Needs refitting in a few places, but the stable looks sound enough with some roof repairs. Can be ready in no time.”

  “Ready for what?” Grandpa huffed.

  Keegan arched an eyebrow. “Horses, of course. You can’t have a horse camp until you get horses. Gonna need to get ’em settled in and used to the property before you start bringing in the little campers. Sooner the better, in my opinion.”

  Her dream of a family camp seemed like a distant memory, but Grandpa nodded and let himself out, Cyclone dancing at his crutches.

  Keegan eased next to her on the sofa and took her hand. “Like ice,” he said, massaging some warmth back into it. He didn’t press her to talk, just sat, warming her, steadying her.

  Was this what love was like? The thought startled her. Bearing one another’s burdens quietly, without even needing to speak? She held on, tears crowding her vision. But this love was one-sided, she reminded herself, a flimsy daydream. Her path was hers alone. She’d be wise to remember that.

  “Keegan,” she managed to say at last. “Am I crazy?”

  “No crazier than anyone else I know,” he said. His smile faded. “Tracy, I believe you saw Nan’s body.”

  “No one else does. They all looked at me like...” She swallowed hard. All those eyes, all that judgment.

  “No one has seen or heard from Nan Ridley since the night you saw her murdered,” he said firmly. “She’s dead, you found her body, and someone hid it. Someone at the center, familiar with the area, maybe a couple of people working together—one let the bulls loose and one snatched the crate.”

  “It sounds far-fetched. Impossible.”

  “John said he’s going to ask the Copper Creek cops to bring in a cadaver dog, but that might take a while.” Keegan snorted. “They’ll try to keep a low profile to protect the event, no doubt.”

  “They might not find anything by then.”

  “Dogs are amazing. They might still alert that there was a cadaver in the storage shelter.”

  “But with no body to be found, there’s no proof. We’re back to square one.” She looked around helplessly. “What should I do? All these plans. I put every last penny into this place. How can I stay here when people think...?” She gulped. “It may never come out what really happened to Nan that night.”

  “Pockets,” he said, pressing a kiss to her palm, “I’m not going to give up until we know the truth. In the meantime...” He looked around. “You should carry on with your dreams, build that horse camp and take care of your rascally grandfather.” He said it like it was the most obvious statement in the world.

  She stared at him, overwhelmed by the kindness, the steadfastness, his belief in her dream. When he put a hand behind her neck and pulled her in for another kiss, she did not resist. She would accept his comfort, if that was all he could give her, and offer her love, though it was a gift he did not want.

  The comfort in that joining was so precious, so tender, that the tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks. He kissed her once more and then wiped a thumb along her face to catch them.

  Love circled and frolicked in her heart. How her feelings had shifted from friendship to something much deeper, she could not pinpoint, but that kiss kindled something inside she could not deny. Whatever else happened, she knew Keegan would be in her soul forever. The secret both thrilled and pained her.

  He smiled, tugged playfully at a strand of her hair. “Like I said, it’s gonna be okay.”

  They heard her grandfather coming noisily up the walk, purposefully making a ruckus, she suspected. She did not know exactly when Grandpa had switched from loathing Keegan to possibly respecting him, but she didn’t care much when the transformation had occurred, only that it had.

  Maybe somehow she could keep the friendship of this good man, if she could not have his love. The fullness of her heart forced the horror of the day back, one stuttering beat at a time.

  Keegan stood and headed to the door to open it for Grandpa. On the way he scanned the dreary room. “Know what, Pockets? This place needs something.”

  “It needs a lot of things,” she said, brushing her sleeve across her face.

  Grandpa stamped in, cheeks reddened with the cold.

  Keegan continued to gaze around the dim space.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

  Grandpa sat heavily. “Uh-oh. That’s gonna be trouble.”

  Keegan gave both of them a wink. “Trust me,” he said. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  NINETEEN

  Keegan discussed his plan to surprise Tracy. Jack and Owen loaded up his truck with supplies, offering help when their ranch duties allowed. Barrett would typically be the lead on such matters, but he was distracted, his normally perfect beard untrimmed and a bit of wildness showing around his mouth.

  “Doc says it will be soon, anytime now,” he said for the third time. His coffee sat ignored on the kitchen table while he drummed his fingers over and over until Owen told him to knock it off.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Ella said, squeezing him around the shoulders. “Mama knows how to take care of Betsy, and I will be there with Shelby if the baby comes while you’re away for any reason. She’s got my cell and everybody else’s.”

&nb
sp; “Right.” Barrett still looked dazed. Keegan understood it was not just first-time-father jitters. He’d lost Bree in the most violent, unexpected way, and he would likely never fully trust that Shelby, too, might not be stripped from him in a moment. God had enabled Barrett to open his heart to another woman, and Keegan would always be in awe of that, but fear lingered somewhere down deep in his brother.

  Keegan squeezed Barrett’s shoulder. “Hey, man. With all of us around, we’ll get her to the hospital faster than an ambulance could.”

  Barrett toyed with his mug. “Uh-huh. But Doc says her blood pressure is high. I told him she should be admitted, but he didn’t listen.”

  “No, a doc probably isn’t going to take advice from a cowboy,” Jack observed.

  Barrett got up. “I’m gonna go check on her. She sleeps best in the afternoon. I made her promise not to get up at all while I was gone, but I’m not sure she always does what I say.”

  Evie and Ella laughed at that one. “What a news flash,” Ella said.

  “Okay, go check on her, Barrett, but don’t wake her,” his mother cautioned. “She says she can’t get a moment’s sleep with you prowling like a panther.”

  But Barrett was already out the door.

  His mother handed Owen a box. “This goes to the barn. Candles for the ceremony. I’m going up to the attic to find the bassinet, just in case that baby shows up tonight.”

  Owen quirked a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ella kissed Owen. “I have to give Betsy her medicine.”

  “A double wedding and a baby,” Jack said after the women left. “Mama’s over the moon.”

  Keegan realized Owen was studying him. “Got something you need to get off your chest?”

  Owen’s stare, always intense unless he was with Ella, sharpened. “Sonny B’s still in town, looking to settle a score with you.”

  Keegan shrugged. “I’ve got wilder horses to rope.”

  “Do you? I would think that after what happened...it being so public and all, Tracy wouldn’t want anything more to do with the show or the center.”