3 Madness in Christmas River

by Meg Muldoon

  She raised her left eyebrow higher than I’d ever seen anyone raise an eyebrow, defying the laws of gravity.

  The realization suddenly hit me like a train speeding toward hell.

  Oh no.

  My face grew red and I felt like I was suddenly hearing everything under water.

  “People are saying the two of you—”

  “Now just stop right there,” I said, standing up, taking my apron off and tossing it on the counter. “That’s a load of BS, and you know it, Kara. I would never…”

  I trailed off, feeling like I was going to blow my top at any moment.

  I swallowed hard and tried to steady my voice.

  “Just what are people saying?” I said quietly.

  “Well, Gertrude put it this way: when the cat is away, the mice do play.”

  Bile shot up the back of my throat, and for a second, I was afraid it my travel a little further.

  “That old witch,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe anyone would think that. I mean, it’s ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous.”

  “Well, that may be. But the rest of the town’s got a different idea thanks to Gertrude’s wagging tongue.”

  I bit my lip.

  “Goddamn it,” I said. “This is the last thing I need right now.”

  Kara let out a disappointed sigh.

  “So she’s wrong? You’re not having a wild and wonderful affair with Deputy McHale?”

  “No!” I said, probably a little too loudly.

  I glanced over at the dividing door to see if anybody was within ear shot. Nobody was.

  “No,” I said in a controlled whisper. “That’s just… crazy.”

  Kara suddenly looked like a deflated soufflé.

  “Too bad,” she said. “I was hoping you were taking advantage of your last few days of being single.”

  “Kara, I haven’t been single for two years,” I said. “And just because I’m getting married doesn’t mean I would do something stupid like that.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I figured,” she said, shooing me off. “I tell you what, though. That Deputy McHale is the kind of guy who could throw just about any woman off from thoughts of fidelity. He’s just got the cutest—”

  “Don’t go there, please,” I said.

  Kara looked at me again with those raised eyebrows.

  “Well, I’m willing to buy that you didn’t do anything wrong, knowing you. But what was Owen’s patrol car doing in front of Daniel’s house all night? And what were you doing there with him?”

  I rubbed my face.

  When I had invited Owen into Daniel’s house yesterday, I hadn’t given two thoughts to how it might appear to nosy folks in town.

  Sometimes, I forgot just how small of a town Christmas River really was. It was only in moments like this that you realized. Moments when you became the subject of town gossip.

  I sighed.

  “When I got off the phone with you yesterday, Evan was there. He found me walking and wanted to talk,” I said, looking out the window.

  She inhaled sharply.

  “Scumbag,” she said.

  “I know. But then, Owen was randomly driving by, and he saw that I was being harassed, and, well, he pretty much saved me from having to deal with that SOB.”

  “Like a knight in shining armor,” Kara said, her eyes getting glazed over like a little girl listening to a fairytale.

  “No,” I said. “Like a police officer doing his job and protecting a member of the public.”

  “Well, what happened then?”

  “He offered me a ride to Daniel’s house, and I took him up on it. Then, well, I had to talk to him about the case anyway, and me being me, I made dinner. I didn’t…. It wasn’t…”

  “Then what?”

  I sighed, glancing over again at the dividing door, making sure nobody else would hear the next part.

  “Well, he started drinking. Like I haven’t ever seen him drink before. And we started talking, and he asked who Evan was, and I told him all about that. Then he started talking about his own love life, how he had his heart broken and came here to Christmas River to get away from it all.”

  Kara’s face lifted into a surprised expression.

  “No way,” she said.

  I nodded.

  I lowered my voice.

  “And then, well, he got drunker than a skunk and he passed out. He almost cracked his head open on the floor, for Chrissakes.”

  Kara inhaled loudly, and her eyes grew wide.

  “Then what?” she asked.

  “Then I let him sleep it off on Daniel’s sofa.”

  She grabbed my forearm, those bright red nails digging sharply into my skin.

  “What happened then?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “His car was gone this morning when I woke up.”

  “That’s it?” she said. “He didn’t get up in the middle of the night and—”

  “Kara!” I said.

  She frowned.

  “Oh, Cin,” she said, shaking her head. “You know that just about every gal in Christmas River would kill to have Owen McHale in the next room like that? Including a certain blondie sitting here in this kitchen with you.”

  I knew that if Kara had been in the same situation with Owen, she probably wouldn’t have acted on any temptations, even though she said she would. It was all just a front. I knew that John meant too much to her, and that all her talk was just a lot of gas.

  “I don’t care how good-looking you all think he is,” I said. “It doesn’t matter one bit to me.”

  Kara sighed.

  “Well, I would have expected nothing less from you Cin,” she said. “You’re a better woman than me.”

  I got up and threw the bag of unsatisfyingly flavorless baby carrots into the fridge. I got a knife, and started cutting into one of the chocolate pies.

  “I tell you, if Owen so much as looked in my direction, I’d be all over that,” she said. “Oh, Cin. You really missed your chance. A guy that good-looking only comes around once every—”

  I suddenly noticed a shadow passing over the dividing door.

  I looked over, and let out a sharp gasp.

  Chapter 40

  “Well, I think I ought to get back to the shop,” Kara said, grabbing her purse and slinking away. “I’ll leave you two be.”

  She smiled as she passed him in the door, leaving the two of us alone.

  I stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, wondering how long he had been standing there.

  And just how much of our conversation he had heard.

  After a few moments, I finally snapped myself out of it.

  “Oh, hon,” I said, dropping the knife in my hand, running up and throwing my arms around him.

  I squeezed him tightly and breathed him in. He smelled of pine trees and cold snow and car heaters.

  He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms tightly around me.

  For the first time since he left, I felt like the world was safe and good, and that everything was going to be okay.

  He kissed me, closing the door on all the miles that had separated us.

  Huckleberry hobbled over from his doggie bed, and brushed against our legs.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I was so worried,” he said. “I couldn’t be so far away after what happened.”

  “But the storm… how’d you get here?”

  “I drove. I got out here as soon as I could.”

  “Goddammit, Daniel,” I said, angrily. “You shouldn’t have done that. If I’d known you were out on those icy roads, then I would have… I wouldn’t have told you.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m here now.”

  “I would have been fine,” I said. “I’m a tough girl. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but even tough girls need a little help sometimes,” he said.

  I bit my lip and looked at him, shaking my head.

  He’d been stupid, driving thro
ugh one of the worst snowstorms to hit Oregon in recent years. Completely and utterly stupid.

  I should have been mad at him, mad for putting himself in that kind of danger over something I could handle on my own.

  Mad that he’d do something so risky.

  But in that moment, I wasn’t. I wasn’t angry one bit.

  I was just glad to have him in my arms.

  “You stupid son of a…” I said. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  We stayed like that for a while, him holding me in the doorway. I felt so happy and bright and warm inside. All the loneliness and worry and despair of the last few days seemed to melt away.

  “Now, what was Kara saying? That a guy as good looking as me only comes around once in a blue moon?”

  I looked up at him and started laughing.

  “You would think that we were talking about you, wouldn’t you?” I said.

  “Well, who else?” he said, smiling down at me.

  Suddenly, I heard a noise at the back door. Huckleberry started barking.

  I looked over.

  Somebody had walked inside.

  “Listen, I have something I need to—” he started saying, but stopped abruptly when he saw Daniel.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  Chapter 41

  Owen stood in the doorjamb. A cold draft of wintry wind blew through the kitchen.

  My stomach tightened.

  “Sheriff Brightman, I, uh… good to have you back, sir.”

  I didn’t think Owen could get flustered, but there he was, choking on his words and having a tough time finding the right thing to say.

  He was also looking pretty rough. Dark circles hung around his eyes, and an uncharacteristic stubble sat on his chin.

  I imagined it would be hard to shave with the kind of hangover he must have had.

  “Glad to be back, McHale,” Daniel said. “I hear I’ve missed out on a lot.”

  Owen took off his beanie.

  “You sure have. I’ve been pretty busy here.”

  He said it too earnestly, and it sounded forced and phony, and I knew that Daniel could pick up on it. He wasn’t the sheriff for nothing.

  “Owen, can I get you anything?” I said, only because that’s what I would have normally said. “A cup of coffee or some pie?”

  What was I doing? I hadn’t done anything wrong. But here I was, letting the town gossips get into my head.

  “Uh, no ma’am,” he said. “I just came by to… well, to give you an update about your vehicular break-in. But I’ll come back another time.”

  He started shuffling away through the door.

  “I’ll see you later at the station, Deputy McHale,” Daniel said. “Thanks for holding the fort down.”

  Owen nodded in acknowledgement, pulled his hat back on, and shuffled out the back door.

  My heart finally started beating again.

  Daniel looked down at me.

  “Now what in the heck did you do to him, Cin? I’ve never seen him act so polite.”

  I shrugged uncomfortably.

  “I guess I just have that effect on people,” I said. “Now what can I get you? Coffee, pie?”

  I saw his eyes drift over to the batch of freshly baked chocolate bourbon hazelnuts sitting on the counter.

  “Ah, good choice, sir,” I said, grabbing a plate.

  Daniel pushed his bag out of the way and knelt down next to Huckleberry.

  “Poor little guy,” he said, inspecting his bandaged paw. “Don’t you worry, we’ll catch the bastard who did this to you.”

  Huckleberry wagged his little nub, and licked Daniel on the cheek.

  He glanced up at me.

  “Any developments in any of that?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  I cut a slice of the creamy chocolaty pie, and heaped it onto a plate.

  Daniel stood up and took a seat at the kitchen island.

  “Listen, Cin, I know there are things you haven’t told me,” he said.

  My mouth suddenly went dry.

  He’d only been back in town for all of five minutes, and he already knew what people were saying.

  I started to explain what had happened the night before, that the things people were saying weren’t true, but he interrupted me.

  “I want you to tell me everything about what’s been going on here in town,” he said. “From Marie disappearing to Huckleberry getting hurt. Don’t leave a single thing out.”

  I wiped a droplet of sweat off of my forehead.

  It wasn’t because the kitchen had gotten hot, either.

  Chapter 42

  I told Daniel everything.

  But he left before I got a chance to tell him what people were saying about Owen and me.

  I didn’t know how to bring it up, and after he’d heard more about the crime that had taken place in Christmas River over the past week, he immediately got into his Sheriff’s mode and left for the station. He always had a laser-like focus when he got into that mode, and I didn’t want to bother him with silly town gossip.

  Or maybe I was just a coward, afraid of what he’d say. Afraid of what he’d think.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon sweating in front of the oven, baking enough pies to get us through the next morning. The shop was packed and had a holiday frenzy about it that had only been intensified by the power being out the day before.

  At some point, I made the mistake of going out to the front of the house to help Chrissy and Tiana behind the counter.

  Meredith Drutman, a local relator whose face along with her realtor husband’s was all over the For Sale signs in this town, ordered two plates of the Sour Cream Pumpkin Pecan pie for her and her daughter. As I cut and placed the slices on the plates, I could hear the two of them whispering quietly to each other.

  Whispering, I realized, about me.

  I handed them their plates of pie, trying to ignore what they probably were saying about me.

  “Aren’t you getting married to the sheriff soon?” Haley asked abruptly, grabbing the plate from me.

  Haley Drutman. Once the Christmas River High prom queen, now Deputy McHale’s stalker.

  She gave me a sharp, adolescent stare that was typical of about every popular high school girl there ever was.

  The only thing was, Haley wasn’t in high school anymore.

  “Yes,” I said, not sure what business it was of hers.

  “Then why are you cougaring out on Owen?” she said, raising her voice over the sound of the clamoring dining room.

  My jaw dropped open.

  I could have sworn that everyone in the establishment stopped talking and fell into a hush.

  “Haley!” Meredith said quickly, scolding her and glancing at me apologetically.

  I didn’t buy it, though. I knew Meredith Drutman was one of the town’s worst gossips, and she’d probably said worst things about me behind my back then her daughter could ever say to my face.

  “It’s a valid question, Mom,” Haley said, looking at me with a sour face. “You’re too old for him.”

  I wiped my sweaty hands on my apron, trying to come up with something to say, but nothing came out.

  “I…” I started, struggling for words. “Nothing hap…”

  My heart started racing. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, waiting for my answer, knowing full well that my response was going to be all over town by dinner time.

  And, as I stood there, facing the Haley inquisition, I knew there was nothing I could say that would absolve me of what they thought I did.

  Nobody would believe the truth. Not when the gossip was this juicy.

  Cinnamon Peters, once the victim of adultery, now the perpetrator of it, just as she’s about to be married to the town sheriff.

  The gossips of Christmas River wouldn’t let something like that ever die.

  No matter the fact that there was no truth to it.

  Haley put her hands on her hips and looked at me with a bitter, ugly, hate
ful expression.

  I just shook my head, and took off my apron.

  I took a deep breath and glanced around the room.

  “Nothing hap—” I started saying.

  “You’re way out of line, Haley,” Chrissy said, standing next to me and coming to my defense. “If you were an adult, I would say something worse. But you’re not an adult. You’re a nasty little girl. Which just about everyone in town knows. Including Deputy McHale.”

  Haley’s expression turned from one full of hate, to one of shock.

  Her mom didn’t say a thing.

  I glanced over at Chrissy, and nodded appreciatively.

  I didn’t care if Haley was a young, immature girl in love. She couldn’t come into my pie shop and do this.

  And I was glad to have Chrissy to say just the right thing at just the right time.

  Haley and her mom placed their plates back on the counter, and left the shop in a huff. After a moment of shocked silence, loud chatting resumed in the dining room.

  I knew everybody was talking about the scene that had just played out in front of them.

  And I knew that even though I might have won that battle, I still had lost the war.

  Everyone thought I had cheated on Daniel with Deputy McHale.

  I went into the kitchen, grabbed my coat off the coat rack, and zipped it up. I picked Huckleberry up, and left through the back door.

  I got into the car and drove away. I held the tears back until I had passed through downtown.

  Chapter 43

  “I hadn’t ever seen such a beautiful bride,” Warren said, looking over my shoulder at the old photo album. “And I’m not just saying that because she was my daughter. I’m not the sentimental type. But that day, your mom looked like… like an angel.”

  After my showdown with Haley, I’d driven home and changed into a comfortable pair of fleece penguin-dotted PJ’s and a bathrobe. I had brought back the old photo album from Daniel’s attic, placing it on the bookshelf next to all of our other albums, and I quickly found myself pulling out my mother’s old, weathered ones.