The Lawman's Holiday Wish

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “His peppered bacon makes a guy wonder why he ever eats anything else,” Zach noted.

  Rainey smiled. “It’s great, right? So that’s it for now, besides the usual. The eggnog, milk and flavored milks will all be in twelve-ounce bottles with easy-open tops, an alternative to pop and cider for folks grabbing food at the festival. I’ve decided not to haul the big stuff, because it’s awkward to carry half gallons to a park. Instead, I’m focusing on building awareness, availability and affordability. And on that note...” She turned to Piper, her mother and Marty. “I was thinking of starting a thrift table in the store. Half-priced items about to go out-of-date. What do you think?”

  Piper exchanged looks with Marty and shrugged. “It’s a great idea and I’m wondering why we didn’t think of it before.”

  “I like it,” said Lucia. “Rainey, what a good idea.”

  “Okay, done.” She stepped back, pleased with their combined reactions. “That’s it for my presentation tonight, but I’m so glad you guys approve.”

  “Oh.” Zach sent her a lazy grin as he reached for another dish of cake, right behind his father and Berto. “We approve. Wholeheartedly.”

  “Do you need help with the baking schedule?” Piper asked, but Lucia shook her head.

  “If Rainey doesn’t mind, I will work on the baking while she makes sure the filling is done her way on Thursday. And we’ll clear out the big back cooler to store the leches cakes. Milk cake is all the better for sitting a day or two.”

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  “It is my pleasure,” Lucia answered, and the way she said it, as if it was a pleasure, strengthened Rainey’s resolve. She could do this.

  You must do this, her conscience scolded. There is a difference.

  Maybe, thought Rainey, but seeing the ring of appreciative faces deepened her insight. She wanted to please these people, her family. She longed for their blessing, their approval, even if it was over something as simple as milk and cake. Those smiling faces meant the world to her.

  * * *

  Awkward? Not awkward?

  Luke weighed the question as he pulled into the McKinney Farms parking lot on Saturday morning. Aiden craned his neck to see who was outside, then yelled to the girls when they raced out of the wide barn opening to greet him.

  Piper strolled behind the girls, and the look on her face said Luke had better be on his best behavior today, or else. He knew better than to mess with a bride one week before her wedding.

  “Good morning. We came to do stickers,” he called politely.

  She pointed to the larger barn with an overhang to her left. “You’re on picnic-table duty. We need those tables lightly sanded and painted so that my wedding guests don’t get splinters next week.”

  “Won’t it be hard for people to slip in and out of picnic tables wearing dresses and suits?” Luke asked.

  Piper’s expression said it couldn’t be helped. “It’s mostly locals and country people, so I’m hoping they’ll be fine with these. Renting tables and chairs is crazy expensive and Marty has already done too much. And we’ve got those portable tables up there.” She pointed toward the farmhouse front porch. “Lucia’s using them today to serve lunch, but we’ll have them for the wedding, too.”

  “Sounds fine to me.” Luke understood her family pride, so he nodded, ready to help, then glanced around, hoping to see Rainey.

  Not a glimpse.

  He buried his disappointment, waved goodbye to Aiden and jogged over to the wide barn doors.

  “More help. Good.” Zach handed him an electric sander armed with medium-grade paper and a set of earplugs. “I should have had you bring Seth along. We could use another set of hands. My hope is to beat the rain.”

  “He’s off today. I’ll phone him.” Luke called his brother, spoke briefly, then turned back to Zach. “He’s on his way.”

  “How do you two manage to have the same weekends off?” Zach wondered.

  Luke lifted a shoulder as he scanned his first table for rough spots. “My mother’s request. She feels better about us both being deputies if we’ve got each other’s backs.”

  “That’s lovely, Luke.”

  Rainey.

  He turned, wanting to make sure she didn’t hate or mistrust him. Maybe even see a glint of happiness in her eyes, reflecting his emotions.

  But she kept moving, up the steps and into the dairy store, the screen door slapping shut behind her.

  Zach’s laugh said Luke wasn’t fooling him, but Luke refused to make eye contact. If he sanded long enough and hard enough, maybe he’d forget she was two hundred feet away, taking care of customers in the quaint store.

  * * *

  “Food break.”

  Smoke-gray eyes met his nearly three hours later. The team of men had lightly sanded, wiped and painted a dozen tables. Moose Braeburn had come over to help from a neighboring farm, Marty took two hours off from the harvest, and Vince Hogan, a neighbor from up the road who’d just sold his farm to Marty and Piper, stopped in, as well.

  Rainey motioned to the buffet table on the porch. “You guys must be starving. Mama made breakfast sandwiches, latkes, stuffed sugared pancakes, and there are samples of the cakes I’m serving at the festival for dessert.”

  Did her eyes linger on Luke longer than anyone else?

  No.

  Did she sneak a surreptitious glance his way?

  Not even a tiny one.

  Was he about to go stark raving mad?

  Absolutely.

  But he wasn’t about to acknowledge his problem. He washed up, made sounds of appreciation over the food and followed her lead. If she could be this adept at ignoring him, he could do the same. She was simply following the rules she’d set originally. Nothing wrong with that, right?

  They gathered to eat around the folding tables on the porch. Piper and the children joined them, but the kids refused to sit. Instead they ran about, nibbling bits and pieces, then tore off to visit the dwarf goat, the baby calves and the pup that lived next door.

  And except for Rainey ignoring him, it felt...good. Natural. Like a Campbell gathering, with folks here, there and everywhere, kids romping and screeching, having the time of their lives.

  “Hey.”

  His heart skipped a beat as Rainey slipped into the seat next to him. “Hey, yourself. I thought you were ignoring me.”

  She sent him a cool, amused look. “Deputy, despite your inflated yet adorable ego, it isn’t always about you.” She gave the dairy store a quick glance. “I have a business to run, milk to process, and I work on Saturdays, so if your male ego took a burn because I wasn’t on hand to admire your handiwork, let me fix that now.” She waved her bottle of tea toward the tables and offered a salute. “Awesome job, Luke. And Seth, Moose, Vince and Zach. They’re beautiful and wedding-worthy.”

  “And you won’t have to fancy them up for next year’s ice cream season,” Luke noted.

  She turned his way and nodded, then held her hand up to bump knuckles with him. “Perfect, right?” She touched her fist to his in a show of friendly solidarity. “We’ll stow them after the wedding and be ready for spring. Being ahead of the game is never a bad thing around here. And I’m hoping Mother Nature gets all this rain out of her system this week, leaving us a beautiful sunny weekend for the wedding. Otherwise I will spend my one day off this week cleaning the barn.”

  She stood to go, but he reached out a hand to stop her. “We’re having a family thing at my parents’ place tomorrow and I wondered if you and the girls would like to come.”

  “I, uh—”

  “I checked with your mother and she said you’re not working, and it’s scheduled for midday, so after church is perfect. Say yes and I’ll let you get back to work. The girls love coming to my parents’ place.”

 
“So they said.”

  “And you can meet my family.”

  Her eyes darkened slightly, and he read the hint of apprehension. He squeezed her fingers gently. “It will be fine. I promise.”

  * * *

  She should say no. She knew it. He knew it. But the look on his face, his hopefulness, matched hers, so she nodded and pulled her fingers free. “Yes.”

  “Yes? Good.”

  “What time should we come?”

  “I’ll pick you up at one.”

  “No, Luke, we can drive. I’ll—”

  He held her gaze, and the gentle intensity of those blue eyes kept her in place, her heart beating a mile a minute. “I’ll be here at one.”

  “Okay.”

  He reached out a hand to hers again, a featherlight touch, a gesture that called her closer.

  Her heart softened, seeing his look. Reading his emotions. Growing, just like hers.

  “Rainey?” Marly’s voice broke the spell.

  “Duty calls.” Rainey hurried back to the store, eager to be away but unwilling to leave, a clutch of emotions tight in her chest. When she got to the door, she turned and saw him watching. Waiting. Hoping she’d turn.

  And she had.

  And if she hadn’t fallen for Luke Campbell before, she did then.

  Chapter Nine

  The Cosgrove family had changed pews. So did the Appletons.

  They had migrated to the far right, not far from Laura Spelling. Piper’s low hum said she was holding back a storm of displeasure. Lucia and Berto seemed unaware as they filed in behind her.

  Rainey couldn’t help but notice. She kept her eyes trained ahead, refusing to concede the change with a glance around. Help me, God. Help me to stand tall, not proud. I’m nervous. This whole thing with people’s rejections makes me tense inside. And now going to meet Luke’s family? His parents? Help me to be the kind of woman You want me to be, and to accept what happens with grace and dignity.

  A woman came through the right-hand side door and walked back a dozen pews.

  Hillary Baxter, Aiden’s aunt.

  She took a seat in front of Laura Spelling, next to the Cosgroves and behind Mrs. Appleton. They formed a contingent in their corner, while Rainey sat in the now less populated section on the left.

  If Luke’s sister-in-law had joined forces against her, why was Rainey going to a family gathering today? More derision? More ridicule? Would Luke intentionally set her up for that?

  No.

  But even a lawman had only so much power, and sensing the negativity rising from those pews, Rainey felt her heart tighten. Luke Campbell tempted her to trust change. To believe that people could change.

  Not all, Luke. And maybe not enough.

  She wrapped an arm around Dorrie’s shoulders while Sonya pored over a small picture book about Jesus calling the fishermen to help teach God’s love. So different despite their identical genetics, and so dear. She couldn’t take them away from the people they’d loved from birth, and that meant her new start had to be here in Kirkwood Lake. Despite the animosity, she had to make this work.

  “Rainey, so nice to see you again.” Mrs. Smith clasped her hand, then patted Dorrie’s head. “I hear you have some wonderful things for us to try at the festival.”

  Rainey nodded. “I do. I hope everyone likes them.”

  “Some will.” The older woman’s smile offered wisdom and warmth. “And some won’t, but that’s the way of the world, isn’t it?”

  Her expression said she understood Rainey’s plight and sympathized, but her smile said Rainey would be fine. And for some unknown reason, she believed her. “It is, yes.”

  Mrs. Smith patted her hand, still smiling. “Then we’ll let God sort it out. He’s much better at these things than we mere mortals.”

  She settled into the pew ahead, where the Cosgrove family had sat for years. Head high, she gathered up a hymnal, and her choice of seats sent a clear message that she and the pastor welcomed Rainey back into the fold. Their support blessed Rainey, but she prayed the backlash wouldn’t make things hard for them.

  “I love you, Mommy.” Sonya slipped her hand beneath Rainey’s, whispering the words she had longed to hear for three endless years. Words she thought might never come.

  “Me, too.” Dorrie’s little fingers crept beneath Rainey’s right hand. “I’m glad you came back.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. Her hands encased the tiny fingers. She didn’t dare say a word, couldn’t look down, afraid she’d fall apart in a mix of joy and regret, a swirl of emotional overload.

  Just then, bright morning sun broke through the early clouds, flooding the altar with light.

  As Piper handed her a tissue from her purse, Rainey breathed deep, knowing God stood near.

  * * *

  “Good. You dressed for the weather.” Luke swept Rainey’s turtleneck and fleece hoodie with a look of approval as he helped Sonya fix the buckle in the narrow middle seat. “There you go, toots.”

  She preened up at him. “Grandpa Charlie calls me toots, too.”

  “It fits you.” Luke indicated Dorrie’s booster seat with a glance. “It’s tricky fitting three seats back here, and this is a decent-sized SUV. No wonder folks end up with minivans.”

  “Got it!” Rainey high-fived Dorrie after making the seat belt connection. “But I scraped myself in the process.” She shook her right hand to ease the sting of the small cut as Luke rounded the car to take a look.

  “Not too bad,” he judged as he helped her up into the front seat. “Just needs a kiss.” And with that he proceeded to kiss Rainey’s hand in front of the kids.

  Giggles greeted the action. “My daddy kissed your mommy!”

  “I know! I saw it!”

  “It was just a little kiss because she got hurt,” Sonya explained in a quiet voice of reason. “Do you want me to kiss it, too, Mommy?”

  “Yes, please.” Rainey shot Luke a look that said he was in trouble, but he didn’t care. Seeing the children’s reactions reminded him of how the Campbell kids had greeted their parents’ displays of affection as youngsters.

  Sonya kissed the hand, then Dorrie, then Aiden, and when Rainey was finally able to turn around in the front seat, Luke sent her a sideways glance. “I’m not sorry.”

  “That I got hurt?”

  His smile deepened. “That I kissed you. And—” he lowered his voice as he leaned closer, making the turn onto Lake Road “—I plan on doing it again. Just so you know.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then eyed the children in the backseat and seemed to think better of it. For the moment, she’d stay silent.

  “Rainey! I’m so glad you could make it!” Despite the brisk wind off the water, Jenny Campbell hurried outside to greet them after Luke parked the car. With no hesitation, she hugged Rainey, then turned her attention to the three five-year-olds. “Hey, you guys. Grandpa Charlie’s got a project going on the front porch. Go see. After a hug, of course.”

  They hugged her in turn, then dashed toward the lakeside of the house. Rainey stared after them, tempted to follow. She felt safer with the kids around. Their presence meant she could bury herself in their wants and needs, and minimize adult interaction.

  “You don’t need them for battle armor here,” Luke advised as he grabbed a box from the back of the SUV. “My mother’s been reasonably nice to my dates in the past.”

  Dates?

  She turned to offer a quick rebuttal, but his smile said calling her his date made him happy. And seeing him happy made her long to reciprocate. But he hadn’t been to church that morning. There had been lines drawn in the sand during the Sunday service, but Luke hadn’t witnessed it. Maybe if he had, he’d be more cautious. About his feelings. About her.

  “Come on in
. That wind is biting today.” Jenny took Rainey’s arm and led her into a bright, spacious kitchen. “The kids are right through there, so you can see them from the front room.”

  “This is gorgeous,” Rainey told her. The ivory kitchen balanced natural wood and paint with splashes of color from historic artifacts that hung from walls—old tools, framed magazine covers, advertisements of products long gone. The room welcomed the present while heralding the past. “You’ve got a great eye, Mrs. Campbell.”

  “Call me Jenny,” Luke’s mother told her as she drew Rainey forward. “Luke, get this girl something to drink, I think some of that hot cider would take the chill off.”

  “Rainey?”

  His arched eyebrow questioned if she was okay with his mother taking charge. She smiled and nodded as Jenny led her down two stairs. “Cider would be nice.”

  “Rainey!” Seth hailed her from a room to the far left, and three heads poked out from the lowest level of the house. Sounds of Sunday afternoon football provided background noise. “How’s it going? Glad you could make it.”

  “Hi, Seth.”

  A younger woman with milk-chocolate-colored skin and green eyes came up the four steps and moved their way. “Rainey McKinney?”

  Rainey’s poise nearly deserted her, but she nodded. “Yes.”

  “I’m Luke’s sister, Cassidy.”

  “Oh.” Rainey tried to cover her surprise and extended her hand. “Hi.”

  Cassidy brushed off Rainey’s reaction with a grin to her mother. “Do not feel pressured to remember all of us instantly.”

  “All?” Rainey lifted a brow.

  “There’s seven of us.”

  “Whoa.”

  “God sent us four, which might have seemed like a big family to most,” Jenny explained as she settled into a chair. “But I always envisioned being Mrs. Walton. The TV show, remember?”

  Rainey shook her head, but Jenny just laughed.

  “They had seven kids on the program. When my body decided that four was enough, Charlie and I decided to adopt three more.”