All I Want for Christmas: A Kinnison Legacy Holiday novella

by Amanda McIntyre

  “I have to go potty.”

  Liberty met the gazes of the women around her. Thus far, this had been Rein’s job.

  “Bathroom is ‘round back through the kitchen. The public restrooms are being expanded.” Betty stood to let Liberty and Cody by. “You need Jerry to help?”

  Liberty guided Cody past the chairs and took his hand. “We’re good, thanks,” she said with more bravado than she truly felt. This was brand new territory and while she knew she could probably call on Rein to help, she wanted to…well, to be a mom.

  They arrived outside the cubicle of a bathroom and had to wait for one of the construction workers to finish using the facility. Cody danced, holding his miniscule crotch. At one point, Liberty had considered how private the alley outside the back door might be.

  Once the room was vacated, she flipped on the light and observed the one stool--far too tall for him to reach alone. She figured her options were to have him sit, or hold him up so he could do his business.

  Together they stared at the toilet.

  “Miss Ellie has a step-stool.”

  Fine. That settled that question. He did know how to pee standing up--this was good. Liberty knelt and undid his little jeans, her fingers feeling clumsy and awkward. Finally, she was able to jostle his jeans down over his training pants—a

  marvelous gift that Ellie had tucked in his backpack, and something they would soon need to restock. “Yeah, well, I’m going to have to be your step-stool today.” She flipped open the lid and turned him toward the toilet. “Just hang on, buddy. I’m going to lift you up… like this.” She grabbed him beneath the arms, planting her feet firmly for balance. Liberty waited, trying to be considerate to the fact that he might not be as comfortable with her as with his mother, or with Ellie or even Rein. “Okay, you can go ahead… anytime, Cody. Just aim and you know… fire away.”

  His little legs dangled above the stool, his jeans circled like a dead weight around the real cowboy boots Rein had bought him—heavy little cowboy boots, at that.

  “I don’t think I can. I’m too high.”

  “Fair enough.” Liberty lowered the boy to a height that wasn’t quite so high as when Simba lifted his son to the herd in The Lion King. “Better?”

  “I want the stool.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she said, her shoulders beginning to cramp. “But right now, we don’t have much choice.” It dawned on her that maybe he’d be okay with sitting, which sounded good in theory, but could open up another set of challenges. “Do you want to sit, instead?” She began to lower him.

  “No!” he screamed, wiggling his little body to make his point.

  She nearly lost her grip, which was where her mental state was quickly headed. “Okay, okay.” Sure of how to handle most things in her life—good God, she’d survived a fire, and a paid assassin—her brain scrambled to find a solution. “Listen, Cody. You do know how to pee like a big boy, right?”

  He nodded. “Dad… Mr. Mackenzie showed me.”

  “Yay, that’s great.” So the child wasn’t exactly an old hand at this. “Okay, then, all you have to do is… like what Mr. Mackenzie showed you.”

  “He had a step-stool, too.”

  There was a step-stool in the bathroom? Where had that come from? “Okay, then. So, let’s pretend you have the step-stool.”

  “He said I could call him dad.”

  The muscles in her arms burned. Her days of daily exercise as an exotic dancer in Vegas seemed like a million years ago. “Can you please just try to go, Cody?” She tried not to sound too desperate.

  “I’ll try.” He bent his head as though lining up his target.

  There was a knock on the door before it opened and Rein stepped in. “Betty said you guys might need--”

  Startled, Liberty turned to look at him, too late to realize that Cody—ready to fire--was poised as a human water pistol. A steady stream arched with fair distance for a four-year-old across the tiny bathroom, leaving a trail across Rein’s work boots.

  Rein followed both her and Cody’s stupefied gazes to where a dark line appeared with near precision across the toes of his chamois-colored boots.

  “I did it!” Cody held his arms high in victory. Liberty, nearly losing her grasp, had to grab him around the middle.

  She needed a drink.

  “I peed like you showed me.” Cody’s voice was laced with utter glee.

  Liberty, glad the ordeal was over, repositioned the boy’s pants and lifted him to the sink to wash his hands.

  Rein had taken a wad of paper towels to clean up the tiny trail Cody had left behind.

  “Sorry, guess I’m new to this part,” Liberty said to Rein’s reflection in the mirror.

  He grinned and kissed the top of her head, then Cody’s. “We’ll do a little target practice at home, okay, buddy? My mom used to float Cheerios in the toilet so we could practice.”

  Liberty caught his sexy grin.

  “You girls didn’t know what you were missing.”

  The three exited the bathroom together, Cody more than pleased with himself. Rein, at ease, kissed her on the temple and went on his merry way, and she felt as though she’d been spun through a rinse cycle. By the time they rejoined the planning meeting, they were nearly through the agenda.

  Aimee, the consummate teacher, scanned her list. “Okay, now is Re--” she stopped suddenly, realizing her near faux pas. “Reindeers… I mean is Santa” --she emphasized the name-- “planning to bring his reindeer to the park this year?”

  Liberty cleared her throat to hide her smile. “We did hear that he plans to be here. Not sure yet on the reindeer, or if he’ll be borrowing horses instead for the parade. You know how nervous reindeer can be around crowds.”

  Cody, nursing a cookie that Betty had given him, looked in wide-eyed wonder at the women as though amazed that they seemed to know the jolly old guy on a personal level.

  Betty judiciously changed the topic. “And hopefully we’ll have the bakery up and running to the point where we can serve my special holiday cupcakes to parade goers this year.” The End of the Line lighted holiday parade had in recent years drawn folks not only from the surrounding smaller towns, but also folks from the city looking for that small-town holiday experience.

  “I like cupcakes.” Cody smiled at Betty.

  She gave him a quick hug. “A boy after my own heart. It’s been way too long since this town had a proper bakery.”

  “Agreed,” Nan said as she smacked her palm to the table. “Those bear claws they have at the Git and Go are the most pathetic excuse for a Godda--”

  “Nan,” Betty warned with a tip of her head toward Cody.

  “Gosh darn pastry,” Nan finished instead. “We need to be able to buy fresh products without all those chemicals and preservatives in ‘em.”

  Nan, who’d started the local sporting goods store with her taxidermist husband the better part of thirty years ago, now ran the uniquely decorated store alone. She was a hard woman, self-sufficient. Few filters. Not used to kids. Never had them. Never wanted them. Still, it fascinated Liberty that Nan was the greatest advocate of the holiday events in End of the Line. It had been rumored that, at one time in Jed Kinnison’s later years, he and Nan had dated a few times. But to this day, it remained pure speculation.

  “You’ll take care of the holiday wreaths on the utility poles again, Nan?” Aimee asked, checking her three-ring, color-coded binder.

  “Will do. And I’ll have Tyler check the lights along the top of the store fronts. Those…darn things look so pretty at night. Great idea Jed Kinnison had.” She nodded. The lights outlined the tops of each building surrounding the square and stayed up year-round, so that only minor repairs and replacements needed to be done on them.

  “What about the tree in the town square?” Rosie asked. “Will we have one this year? I miss that tradition of the lights on the stores and the tree all being lit at once.”

  “Oh,” Aimee finished, chewing a bit of cookie. “Wy
att said he and the guys would take care of it.”

  Betty’s eyebrows rose. There hadn’t been a tree in the square for years…not since Jed Kinnison left this earth. “I don’t know how you managed that, honey. But kudos to you.” She raised her water glass to Aimee.

  “It wasn’t me.” Aimee held her hands up. “It was Grace. She seems to have a thing for Christmas trees this year. Every time she sees one on the television or in a store her little eyes light up. When I mentioned something about the tree to Wyatt over dinner, Gracie clapped her hands and tried to say ‘Christmas tree.’ Adorable, but slaughtered the words. Nonetheless, that was all it took. Wyatt said his baby girl was going to have the biggest, best Christmas tree in the state.” She looked at the others. “And... I’m not sure anyone is going to believe it, but he wants to have a holiday open house out at the ranch this year. Just like Jed used to do.”

  Betty shook her head with a low chuckle. “That little girl has her daddy wrapped around her little finger already.”

  Aimee smiled. “Yeah, I saw that coming the day the doctor laid her in his arms.”

  Liberty felt a tug on her sweater and realized the meeting had dragged on longer than she’d expected. “Okay, email me a list of the stores participating in the Christmas window decorating contest. I’ve got a little guy here who needs his afternoon nap.”

  Cody waved at the ladies as they left. He was nodding off as they pulled up to the house. Carrying him inside, she let her purse fall just inside the door and carried him upstairs to his room and lay down on his little bed, drawing him close as they both drifted to sleep.

  ***

  The following Tuesday, Rein eyeballed the space as he and Clay positioned one of the cabinets that would become the bakery’s prep area. With Liberty’s design help, he’d taken out the wall separating the two kitchen areas, providing a better utilization of storage and refrigeration for both businesses. That, however, wasn’t what was on his mind. It’d made him uneasy to leave Liberty alone at home to deal with Ellie coming to pick up Cody—she was taking him to visit his mom for a few hours. The woman had a right to see her son, of course, and he knew very little about her, but didn’t Cody have the right to a normal childhood and a safe and happy home? Had his mom provided that when she made the choices that landed her in the pickle she now found herself in?

  “It’s starting to come together. You, on the other hand, look like you’re hanging by a thread.” Clay Saunders, Rein’s college friend and recent addition to End of the Line, worked with Rein’s growing construction business. He’d married End of the Line’s music teacher, Sally Andersen, this past year and the two were presently awaiting twins sometime after Christmas—or so they hoped.

  “Guess I didn’t get as much sleep as I usually do,” Rein confessed, not adding that “alone time now” came later than usual, which also meant the alarm went off much earlier.

  “I’ve been reading up on raising kids.” Clay tapped the base of the cabinet with his boot, shoring it against the wall. He shook his head. “Man, it makes this” --he gestured to the construction mess--“look like a piece of cake.” He eyed Rein. “Caring for someone else’s kid, I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

  “We’ve made some adjustments, but he’s a great little guy,” Rein replied. Cody had indeed been an unexpected addition to their lives at a time when he and Liberty were in the business of trying to have a family. They’d gotten the green light from the doctor after Liberty lost a child at four months. Their hopes had been dashed since with a false positive reading. A believer that practice makes perfect, he and Liberty had become creative with their lovemaking. Hot. Spontaneous. Comparable to the torrid little summer fling they’d engaged in just after her arrival to the ranch a couple of years ago.

  It was tough. But for his wife, he was up for it.

  “True,” Rein said as he removed the wrapping on another cabinet. “But damn, son, if half the fun isn’t getting there. Am I right?”

  Clay chuckled. “I’m trying to remember, dude. About the closest I get to my wife these days is to rub her feet. Sex is out. Twins can come early anyway, I guess. Doc doesn’t want to start any contractions too early.”

  Rein blew out a breath. “What we do to make our wives happy, eh?” He thought about Liberty at home, probably utilizing her quiet time to design the nursery for Clay and Sally. He pushed away the idea that it wasn’t their own nursery, but one of these days it would be. “Come on, with any luck we can get the rest of these cabinets in today. The appliances are coming Monday and we’ll have more help with Dalton, Wyatt, and Tyler next week.”

  Clay nodded. “We may just be able to knock this out for Betty’s holiday opening.”

  Betty walked through the back room with Jerry at her side, leaning heavily on his cane. Thankfully, the mild stroke had only slowed his speech and a bit of dexterity on one side. He suffered only from tired legs if he stood too long. During the design planning, Betty had requested that Rein widen the walkways in the back to accommodate Jerry’s aging. “I don’t know what the future is going to bring,” she’d told him. “But cooking is his life. He loves this café,’ and he’ll be at that griddle until he no longer can be.”

  To help keep Jerry cooking for years to come, Rein had designed and built a new two-level stove top and griddle able to be converted when necessary.

  “It’s looking wonderful. You boys have made my every Christmas wish come true.” Betty swiped at her eyes as she scanned the new bakery’s kitchen.

  “When are your tenants due back home?” Rein asked, pointing to the apartment above the bakery. Clay had gone to pick up Hank a few days ago and they’d been staying out at the Kinnison Last Hope Ranch in one of the cabins until yesterday.

  “Hank took Julie and the boys out to California to see some friends and to finalize a couple of things with the divorce,” Clay said. Clay and Hank, friends since college when the two hung out with Dalton and Rein, had rescued Julie and her two young sons from a dangerous standoff with Julie’s abusive ex. Convincing his sister to move to End of the Line and live on the ranch hadn’t been difficult for Clay. With a relationship blossoming between Julie and Hank and her boys being happy in town, Betty, sensing an opportunity, offered Julie a position as manager of the new bakery. It appeared that his sister and his nephews were ready to put down roots and start a new life in End of the Line. In addition, every weekend since Julie’s arrival, Hank had been bouncing back and forth between his job in Chicago and visits to End of the Line.

  Betty poked her head in the new cabinets, clucking with delight at the progress that had been made.

  “I guess they discussed the possibility of Julie and the boys going to Chicago over the holiday to meet his family,” Clay said as he helped Rein lift a cupboard into place.

  “Sounds pretty serious,” Rein said. “Betty, can you hand me my drill, please?”

  She handed him the tool. Concern was etched on her usual jovial face. “That boy’s not going to steal my new manager away from me, is he?”

  Rein set in two screws, allowing the cabinet to stay secure in place. He glanced at Betty and, after setting the drill down, took a sip from his travel mug that Betty had just warmed up with fresh coffee. He leaned against the counter. “Hank spends more time here than he does in Chicago. Besides, he knows how much Julie and the boys need family right now.” He lifted his mug to Clay. “As long as the big guy is here, I imagine your new bakery manager isn’t about to budge.”

  Clay grinned. “And with Sally due, she’s already mentioned wanting to be around to help out.”

  Rein shrugged. “I’m thinking we’re going to be helping Hank remodel a new house in town here before too long.”

  Clay rubbed a hand over his chin. “Hank’s a good guy. He’s been great to Julie and the boys.”

  “Are you having reservations about him?”

  Clay shook his head. “I just want Julie to be sure. Hank’s got that proverbial white knight thing going on. I don’t
want to see either of them get hurt.”

  Rein nodded. “You do remember the secret crush he had on your sister, right?”

  “Yeah… yeah, I do. I saw it on his face the night I showed him a recent photo of her back at the Buckle Ball.”

  “They’ll be fine. They’re both level-headed adults, right?”

  Clay’s brow rose with his half-smile.

  “Fine. Julie’s level-headed. One out of two ain’t bad.” Rein grinned.

  Betty smiled, folding her arms with a contented sigh. “All this talk of romance and all the new little people in town reminds me of your Uncle Jed at this time of year. Lord, that man loved Christmas like no one I’ve met—before or since.” She frowned, appearing to reconsider. “Except maybe your sister-in-law Aimee.”

  Rein nodded. “That’s a fact, --the woman does love Christmas.”

  “She has certainly changed Wyatt on the topic.”

  Rein chuckled as he returned to the cabinet. “I don’t know what happened to him that winter when all those kids were stranded out at the ranch, but now he seems driven to fill that house with a herd of children.”

  “Liberty was telling me today at our meeting that Gracie’s new infatuation with Christmas trees has inspired him to volunteer to find us the biggest and best tree to decorate the town square. We haven’t had one in years.”

  Rein tossed a look at Clay. “Which means we best get our butts in gear, because my brother is going to need help with this task and I’m fairly certain who he plans to ask.”

  A slow bass beat thumped out the first notes of Tone-Loc’s “Wild Thing,” and Rein scrambled to wrench the phone from his pocket. He caught Betty’s shocked expression and Clay’s half smile. “It’s my wife. Sorry, got to take this.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Betty muttered as she shooed Jerry back to the restaurant.

  “Hey, I’m going to run home and check on Sally,” Clay said, slipping into his work jacket. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so.”

  Rein sent him a nod of approval. “Hey, sweetheart, how’s your day going?” he said into the phone.