The Lawman's Holiday Wish

by Ruth Logan Herne

  She was wrong, but Luke refused to carry the argument further. He’d been as much to blame for Aiden’s behavior issues as Hillary, more so because he was the boy’s father. But seeing the quick results of Rainey’s methods, he understood he no longer had a choice. He might have to find a different after-school sitter for Aiden on the days he worked late. “I have to do what’s best for Aiden, Hillary. You know that.”

  “I thought that’s what we’d been doing.” She challenged him with a cool look that said his words insulted her. Worse, she was probably right to be affronted. “You’re letting an ex-con direct your son’s life.”

  “Hey—”

  Hillary shook her head and moved toward the door. “I know what the papers said. I know she got herself cleared, blah, blah, blah. But that doesn’t negate how she and her buddies caused problems wherever they went. Smoking, drinking, picking on others. And here you are, ready to roll out the red carpet for her as if she’s mother-of-the-year material. Are you forgetting how she left those adorable twins for her mother to raise for three long years?”

  Luke opened his mouth to speak, but Hillary held up a hand to stop him. “I see her in church every week. And she’s beautiful, so I get the attraction. But no matter how sweetly she bows her head, no matter how penitent and contrite she seems, a zebra can’t change its stripes, Luke. You might want to think about that.”

  Hillary pushed through the door, let it bang behind her, and strode to her car, shoulders back, chin up.

  “Dad? Why is Aunt Hillary mad at you?”

  Luke started to say she wasn’t upset, but stopped himself. “Come here, Aiden.” The boy complied and he lifted him in a big hug. “We’ve got to change a few things around here, and Aunt Hillary isn’t sure it’s a good idea.”

  “Like the furniture?” Aiden looked around the room, puzzled. “You want to move the couch again? And the chairs?”

  “No.” Luke sank onto a kitchen chair and cuddled his son, wishing wisdom had come quicker. “I want you to try new things. Maybe do some fun work-sheet stuff at home like Dorrie and Sonya do.”

  “I like those,” Aiden told him. “Piper used to give me sheets to do when I was over there.”

  And if Luke had followed Piper’s example, Aiden might have been more prepared to participate in school. But there was no sense treading old water. The time for change was at hand. “It will mean more playing and less TV in the afternoons.”

  “Like at Grandma’s.”

  Luke smiled, knowing his mother would be relieved that he’d finally come around to her way of thinking. “Yes. Like that.”

  “Aunt Hillary doesn’t like to play, though.” Aiden leaned back and his puzzled frown made Luke long to hold tight and let go at the same time. “She works on her computer while I watch TV, and sometimes she’ll read me a story.”

  Another lightbulb moment. Keeping Aiden safely tucked inside meant Hillary could work on her laptop. Or hang out on social media.

  Dumb, Luke. Just plain dumb. He massaged his temples, then set his son on his feet and went about making supper. Luke warmed up the chicken his mother had given him the day before and put out a bowl of fresh green beans he’d grabbed on his lunch break. The two of them ate at the table, with the TV turned off.

  It felt weird. And quiet.

  Too quiet. And as Aiden reached for his hand to say grace, as they had at Rainey’s, Luke understood himself a little more. Background noise alleviated the need to talk and interact with others. They could be together, eat together, yet be totally separate because the television was on, drawing their attention.

  Aiden touched his hand, waiting, but Luke wasn’t going to pretend to pray, even for his son’s sake. He squeezed Aiden’s hand, smiled and handed him the beans. “I got these special for you today.”

  “Thanks!” Aiden grabbed a handful for his plate and seemed to leave the idea of grace alone now that they were eating. That suited Luke. He’d prayed as a kid, then doubted as a teen. Then he’d thanked God for his healthy son, and prayed when his wife’s illness threatened everything he held dear.

  No heavenly aid came forth in those troubled years, and Luke had learned to depend on himself. He’d been raised to be strong and capable, and that’s what his son needed most—a dad who looked out for his welfare. He’d gone a little overboard, but he was determined to fix that now.

  He called his mother once Aiden was tucked in for the night. “Mom, I need a favor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I may or may not have fired Hillary tonight.”

  A short silence ensued, then Jenny asked, “Would a round of cheers be considered over the top?”

  Luke frowned. “Along with a serving of humble pie for me. It’s not like you haven’t been telling me this for a year.”

  “Why now?”

  Leave it to Jenny Campbell to get right to the point. “I’ve been noticing that when people expect more of Aiden, he delivers. I’m not too late, am I? Have I totally messed him up?”

  “No.” Her quick reply soothed his concerns, until her next comment. “But you’ve managed to create a kid who guilts you into coddling him, because he expects that reaction now. It’s not going to be an easy fix. He’ll act out, you’ll question your sanity, and you’ll be tempted to give in regularly.”

  “Great.” Luke scowled, unseen. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Fun is only one aspect of parenthood,” she replied. “And you’ll have more fun once Aiden becomes more self-sufficient. So yes, I’ll be glad to watch him after school. He loves it here, and I think Hillary needs permission to find her own path. Her bitterness over Martha’s death can’t be healthy for anyone. I’m glad you see that.”

  He should have seen it before. He’d blinded himself purposely, determined to prove everyone wrong, to keep his son safe. Luke’s choices had crippled Aiden’s emotional growth, but then Rainey came along....

  “And bring the girls by again soon,” his mother went on. “Your father gets such a kick out of Dorrie, but I think Sonya wins his heart with her quiet ways. Those big, round eyes.”

  Eyes like her mother’s, Luke thought, but he kept that opinion to himself. “Will do. They had a ball. That’s all they could talk about last night when I drove them home. And Rainey got Aiden to try three new things. Pulled pork, yellow rice and raw green beans.”

  “There’s a small miracle for you.” She choked on the end of her sentence, as if smothering a laugh, and Luke wouldn’t have expected anything else. He’d been a dolt, and she was allowed to have the last laugh. “Have the school bus drop him here. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Will do.” He called Hillary next, waded through the expected tears, reminded her that she was welcome to visit them and ended the call feeling like a first-class heel. But it was high time to shoulder the blame and the responsibility of parenting.

  * * *

  “Yummy cop approaching,” whispered Marly a few days later.

  Rainey saw Luke heading her way in full uniform, and felt her heart speed up. Unfortunately, her head brought her to her senses. No cop wants to be tied to a criminal past like yours, no matter what you’ve done to clean up your act. Keep that in mind. You agreed to work together for the kids’ sake, not yours. Remember?

  She remembered, but it was easy to forget in Luke’s presence. Dark sunglasses covered his warm blue eyes. His mouth tipped up in that inviting, country-boy smile, speeding up her pulse. “Luke, hey. How’s it going?”

  He scratched his left ear, a move she’d noticed the week before, something he did when he was thinking. “I was wondering if you were still okay with having Aiden come here to paint on Saturday, although the forecast calls for rain. I’m working all day, but if you’re tied up, I’ll have my mother watch him.”

  “Saturday’s fine,” she told him. He picked up a shopping basket
and filled it with food as they talked. “Zach’s setting up sawhorses in the barn, so even though they’ll make a mess, it will be in a contained area, so not too bad, right?”

  Luke sent her a grin that put her heart into a tailspin, but she made sure her face stayed calm. She hoped.

  “And look at you,” she quipped. “Stocking up on fresh veggies. I’m proud of you.”

  “Are you?” He removed the sunglasses and locked eyes with hers, and something in her rebelled at the very idea of staying calm.

  “Yes.” She whispered the word, because she couldn’t for the life of her take a full breath.

  He held her gaze, then sighed and smiled, and the combination made her feel as if anything was possible.

  “I’m glad.” He spoke softly in turn, as if they were sharing state secrets. He squared his shoulders, gave her a quirked smile and moved on to the bread display. “Looks like you’ve increased your selection here.”

  She nodded. “That’s part of my problem. I had Ada Sammler supply us with a few extra kinds of bread, and then I had Seb Walker do pastries for us.”

  “We like to stop by his bakeshop in Jamison,” Luke said. “Aiden loves those cream-filled doughnuts.”

  “Me, too. But if they don’t sell quickly, I lose money. So the downturn in business and the excess product has me at a disadvantage.”

  “Can you cut the bakery orders for a few weeks?” Her frown made Luke laugh. “I get it. You can be tough where the kids are concerned, but you’re afraid to hurt Ada’s and Seb’s feelings, right?”

  “It’s easy to laugh when you haven’t been persona non grata for years.”

  Luke made no effort to hide his disbelief. “You’re mixing personal with business. You can’t do that. You can’t afford to do that. Call Ada and Seb, tell them you need to short the orders except for weekends, and then maximize them again as customers increase. And they will increase,” he promised her.

  He made perfect sense and his confidence boosted hers. “I’ll do it,” she promised. “I felt like a loser, increasing the stock, then whining over lack of sales, but you’re absolutely right. I’ll swallow my pride and take care of it.”

  “Good.” Luke put a six-pack of cinnamon rolls into his basket alongside an acorn squash, a head of cauliflower and a pack of Testy O’Brien’s freshly-smoked bacon. “Was it your idea to carry Testy’s stuff?”

  Testy O’Brien ran a meat-smoking business in Cattaraugus County. His wide selection was well-known and appreciated in the tri-county area.

  Rainey nodded. “I’m acting as a middleman for Testy’s full line over the holidays, and we’ve got a gift basket line that Marly’s designing. We’ll start displaying them soon so people can plan on them for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

  “Great idea. I have friends that moved west and the things they miss most are Testy’s smoked meats, Cuba cheese, Sahlen’s hot dogs and Abbott’s Frozen Custard.”

  “It’s funny what you miss when you’re away.” She let her gaze wander the store. Piper had sold a tractor to upgrade the dairy store, and her sacrificial move had resulted in wonders for the business. Until Rainey took over.

  “Hey, do me a favor and hold this—” Luke handed her the basket “—while I grab some milk. There’s nothing like McKinney Farms chocolate milk in glass bottles.”

  He tweaked her nose with a swift touch of his thumb, but didn’t wait for her reaction as he grabbed a half gallon of chocolate milk and a half gallon of whole milk. He followed that with two dozen eggs, a brick of Cuba cheese, a bag of cheese curds and a pound of butter. “Dairy is an essential food group, I’m told.”

  “You’ve been paying attention.”

  He led the way to the checkout counter and didn’t complain when he had to unfold several twenties to cover his purchases, which made Rainey realize something else. Luke could afford all that he’d packed into his baskets because he had a good-paying job with benefits. But what about those who weren’t so blessed?

  An idea bloomed inside her head, the thought of running a thrift table for people who were down on their luck. Product that would have been wasted would be turned into good food for others. She would run the idea past Piper, but it made perfect sense. Not a handout, but a hand up, and that reasoning worked for Rainey.

  Luke pocketed his change, started to hoist the bags with the cheese and milk, then dropped his eyes to the sack of bakery products. “I could use help getting to my car, miss.”

  Marly laughed behind the counter.

  Rainey shot her a scolding look, lifted the bag and started for the door. “Let’s go, Deputy. I’ve got phone calls to make.”

  He opened the trunk of the running cruiser, set his two bags down, then reached for Rainey’s as she moved forward.

  His hand closed over hers. She’d walked outside, determined to offer nothing more than a smile and a wave, but the warmth of his palm against the back of her hand made her sigh inside. “Luke.”

  “Yes, Rain?” The soft question in his voice said he faced a similar problem, one they both needed to avoid.

  His hand tightened over hers. He halved the already narrow distance between them, and she was face-to-shoulder with a blue uniform shirt, a badge and pins of commendation.

  Too close.

  She took a step back, pushing memories away, wishing she’d been different. Better. Stronger. In Rainey’s life, being close to a cop brought up all kinds of bad choices, things she should have done differently.

  Stand straight and tall. Hold your head high. Be the example those little girls need.

  Away from Luke she could believe Paul’s teachings to the Corinthians. His conversion from evil to good had turned Rainey’s life around. If a sinner like Saul could turn into a believer named Paul, then she could restart her fractured life.

  Luke reached out and touched her chin lightly. She had to look up; there was no other option when his finger grazed her skin. “I’ll drop Aiden off on Saturday, okay?”

  She nodded because she couldn’t trust herself to speak. One word might unleash an entire speech about why they should avoid one another, and right now, the last thing she wanted to do was avoid Luke Campbell.

  He climbed into the car, waved and headed to the winding drive leading back to Lake Road. She walked back inside, then held up a hand, staving off any comments Marly might be tempted to make.

  Her coworker laughed, anyway. “You know that scene in Sleepless in Seattle when Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan come face-to-face on the street?”

  “I love that scene,” Rainey admitted.

  “Well, it has nothing on the one I just saw play out right here, right now. Congratulations, Rainey.”

  “Marly—”

  She backed away, then waved Rainey off. “Customers coming in, and you have stuff to do so I’ll say no more....”

  “Because you’ve said enough already,” Rainey noted wryly.

  “The good thing is I know when to stop.” Marly smiled at the customer and dropped a wink in Rainey’s direction. “I’ll call you if we get busy out here.”

  Rainey would love that. Last Saturday had been busier than the whole previous weekend, so maybe things would be looking up as Piper had said. But in the meantime Rainey would do everything she could to help. If the store was filled with customers, she wouldn’t have nearly so much time to think of Luke Campbell, and that would be good for everyone’s sake.

  Chapter Six

  “Now that’s a wonderful aroma,” Piper declared as she banged into the kitchen in her usual quick fashion that evening. “Rainey, what are you making?”

  “Cinnamon milk to sell for the holidays.”

  Nose twitching, her sister moved forward. “It smells great.”

  Rainey made a face. “Well, it’s not quite right. I’ll get Mama’s advice. Don’t yo
u have a bicentennial meeting tonight?”

  “If by ‘you’ you mean ‘we,’ then yes. We have to leave in fifteen minutes, so Lucia will put the girls to bed.”

  “I’m going?” A combination of dread and aggravation pushed Rainey a step back. “Do you really need me there?”

  “Do you want to have your own booth?”

  Tonight was the meeting that required all festival participants to present their final plans to the committee, to kick off Kirkwood Lake’s year-long bicentennial celebration. And Piper’s site plans had been altered to include a separate dairy booth, so the committee might have questions. “I’ll go get cleaned up.”

  Piper glanced down at her farm clothes and grinned. “Me, too.”

  * * *

  The town hall conference room had standing-room only by the time Piper and Rainey arrived. Piper squeezed in to the left of the door, acknowledging friends with a quick wave.

  Rainey slipped in beside her, but focused on the committee. Most folks would act nice in a public venue, but she wasn’t about to chance catching a sour look from someone in the crowd. She needed to be on her game tonight if the committee needed answers.

  And they did, once they came to Piper’s revised booth layout. “Piper, your site plan has been revised according to the email we received last week?” Tess Okrepcki adjusted her reading glasses, then peered over them to address Piper directly.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re doing a farm-products booth and a dairy booth.”

  “That’s right. But within the original site footprint,” she added.

  “And you have enough product to stock both booths for two days?”

  “Yes. The farm booth is a cooperative of McKinney Farms and a few smaller farms that supply us with goods for the fresh foods part of our business. I’ll let my sister tell you about the dairy booth.”

  Rainey turned toward Piper. Piper’s look said she had absolute confidence in Rainey’s ability to carry the moment. She turned, faced the committee and dived in. “The dairy booth will feature our normal products, but it will also kick off our holiday sales opportunities by showcasing the new line of gift baskets and holiday-specific items we’d like customers to try. At this point we’re still developing product lines but we’ll be having folks sample tres leches cake, cinnamon milk and other new dairy ideas for a long, cold Western New York winter.”