by Kim Redford
“They’d have a reason to be smug if they were putting this whole shebang over on us.” He glanced out into the parking lot, but didn’t see the Gladstones’ dirty white van. “Something else. I noticed a lot of back-road dust on their vehicle.”
“Good point. What I want to do now is—”
“Let’s not spook them. Plus, you’re in Wildcat Bluff County, not Dallas County. If you agree, let me run this by our police chief. If need be, he’ll alert the county sheriff.”
“That’ll take time.”
“But if you go off half-cocked, we might lose them.”
“I won’t do that. But I bet there’s incriminating evidence instead of collectibles in their van.”
“Requires a search warrant.”
“True.”
“Our law is as frustrated and anxious to stop these fires and catch the culprits as we are.”
“I wish we could put a police tail on that van.”
“Maybe we can.”
“Should we warn Ruby?”
“Not yet. J.P. and Charlene may be innocent. Let me make a call.”
She nodded in agreement.
Trey wanted to run out and confront the Gladstones as much as Misty did, but they had to handle the situation intelligently. He pulled his cell out of his pocket. The entire police department, augmented by sheriff deputies, was on duty during Christmas in the Country. He’d try to get hold of the police chief first. Harry was an old friend, and Trey had his cell number.
He kept calling till he finally got through. “Harry, it’s Trey.”
“Trouble at the chili cook-off?”
“No. All’s fine here. Look, I’ve had an idea about the arsonists.”
“Now? In the middle of Christmas in the Country?”
“Timing’s lousy, I know.” Trey ran a hand through his thick hair. “But it’s the perfect time to set another fire with everybody so distracted, isn’t it?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Could you spare somebody to put a tail on J.P. and Charlene Gladstone? They’re staying at Twin Oaks. And they drive a white van.”
Trey heard Harry clicking on his computer. “Okay, got a hit. Nothing stands out about them.”
“They left the chili cook-off a bit ago.”
Misty tugged on Trey’s arm. “Just a hunch. See if he’ll check for them at the tree farm where we put out the last fire.”
The thought made Trey’s blood run cold. It’d be right across from Wildcat Ranch again. And it’d be an arrogant, smug, in-your-face kind of thing to do.
“Who’s that with you?” Harry asked.
“I’ll introduce you later,” Trey said. “Misty Reynolds. She’s a troubleshooter for Texas Timber. She wants to stop the fires as much as we do.”
“Is she our Christmas angel?”
“Yep. That’s her.”
“Okay. I’ll pull Jeremy off downtown and send him to Ruby’s. If the van’s not there, he’ll go on to the tree farm. If he doesn’t get a hit there, I’ll see if the sheriff can spare a deputy.”
“Thanks, Harry. Stay in touch.”
“Will do.”
Trey put his phone back in his pocket. “Could you hear any of that?”
“Bits and pieces.”
“Okay. Harry’s our chief of police. He’s going to send Jeremy over to Ruby’s to check on the van. If it’s not there, he’ll go to the tree farm.”
“That’s a relief.”
“We may be barking up the wrong tree.”
“True. But we can’t take a chance.” She looked up at Trey with a determined glint in her eyes. “And if that fails, we can drive backcountry roads all night till we do find the Gladstones.”
“I can think of better things to do.”
“Not if we catch them in the act.”
“True.” He squeezed her hand. “Harry’s on the ball now. Till we hear from him, we might as well enjoy the hayride. Want to try?”
“Let’s do more than try.”
He pointed toward the line of ATVs with their colorful trailers.
“I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but where are the horses?” Misty asked.
Trey sighed. “Everybody wants horses. They used ponies back in the day, but we’ve opted to hayride the easy way. Less mess. Less fuss.”
“It’ll still be just as much fun.”
“That’s right.”
“Are you driving one of those rigs?”
“Not tonight.” He pointed at the front of the line. “Kent leads the pack in his ATV. I bring up the rear in mine. We don’t haul hayriders. That way, if there’s an emergency or something, we’re free to run up and down the line or go for help. And we’re connected with our cell phones.”
“Are you sure you’ve got room for a passenger?”
“You’ll be right beside me.” He put an arm around her waist and turned her toward the end of the line. They saw Bert Two walking up to them.
“Evenin’,” Trey said.
“Enjoyed the chili.” Bert Two nodded at Misty. “Good to see you again. You had a fine idea to raise funds for animal oxygen kits.”
“Thanks for your support,” Misty said.
“Anything to help our fire-rescue.” Bert Two glanced at Trey. “Dad and I depend on them to help us. And we appreciate all the effort.”
“Regret we haven’t been able to save your buildings,” Trey said.
“Most you can do is try. And hope there’s an end to the harassment.” Bert Two gestured toward the hayride trailers where folks were stepping aboard. “Don’t let me hold you up. Just wanted to stop by and say thanks.”
“Appreciate it,” Trey said.
Bert Two tipped his cowboy hat to Misty. “Now, don’t go forgettin’ my offer.”
“I won’t,” she said.
“You two have a fine Christmas Eve, hear now?” And Bert Two sauntered out into the parking lot.
“What offer? And where did you meet him?” Trey felt a stab of jealousy that he pushed back down.
“Adelia’s Delights. And he’s just being neighborly like folks do in Wildcat Bluff.”
“He and his dad don’t have the best reputations in the county.”
“I’ve wondered if their building fires might be tied in with the tree farm fires.”
“Could be. But Bert’s building fires started before the first tree farm fire or my troubles.”
“Guess there’s no way to know yet.”
“Let it go for now. Engines are revving up for the hayride.”
He clasped Misty’s hand and led her to his big Ranger ATV that could seat four people. Red and black with open sides and roll bars, the four-wheeler was his baby. It’d take on cross-country or streets and roads with nary a whimper. It wasn’t a speed demon, but it was a workhorse. He couldn’t have managed the ranch without it or his other ATVs. Some days a horse was the way to go on the ranch, but other occasions required a four-wheeler.
He settled Misty onto the passenger black leather bucket seat in front before he walked around to the storage bed in back. He pulled two cold bottles of milk out of the strapped-on cooler. He walked around, sat down, and handed her a bottle.
“Thanks.”
“Milk is the best cure for chili heat.”
“Double thanks.” She took a long drink of milk. “What a relief!”
“Know the feeling.” He chuckled, and then took a hefty slug before he set the bottle in a cup holder.
When the ATVs in front started forward, Trey turned on his engine. As the hayriders moved away from the cafeteria, they started singing in front and others picked up the song in a rolling wave till it reached the back of the line.
“They’re singing?” Misty glanced at Trey in surprise as she set her bottle in a cup holder.
He grinned. �
��Didn’t I tell you? This isn’t just a hayride. Wildcat Bluff is waiting to hear our Christmas caroling.”
Chapter 38
Misty laughed out loud with delight and clapped her hands. She’d never have dreamed she’d be having so much fun on Christmas Eve. She certainly wouldn’t have thought of caroling. Trey raised his voice in a deep baritone. She joined him with her soprano as she tried to remember songs she hadn’t sung since childhood such as “Silent Night” and “White Christmas.”
How her parents would’ve loved Christmas in the Country. She waited for the usual pain at their memory to bring tears to her eyes. Instead, she felt tenderness and love for all they’d given her and all they’d shared before the fire. She wished they could be with her now. Aunt Camilla, too.
Misty took a deep breath, feeling her lungs easily expand in contrast to the contraction she’d felt for so long. She’d healed in an unlikely place called Wildcat Bluff—thanks to its wonderful people, enduring spirit, and a cowboy named Trey Duval.
Trey must have sensed her thinking about him, for he glanced over with a hot glint in his eyes that promised more sizzling nights in their future. He took his right hand off the steering wheel and held it out to her. When she clasped his long, strong fingers, she felt as if she were cementing the bond they’d forged from the first moment they’d met on Wildcat Road.
When their train of hayriders wound around to Old Town, Misty was amazed to see folks standing outside on the boardwalk and waiting for Christmas caroling. Businesses were still open with inviting holiday lights glimmering in windows and along the roofline above the boardwalk. A country band of men dressed in plaid shirts with jeans and women in long, colorful skirts played mandolin, fiddle, banjo, guitar, harmonica, and squeeze box in front of Adelia’s Delights.
Kent led them to the far end of Main Street where he stopped so the ATVs pulling colorful trailers with laughing and waving hayriders could line up behind him in front of the boardwalk. Trey brought up the rear and braked at the entrance to Gene’s Boot Hospital.
Soon the band broke into a lively “Winter Wonderland.” Folks on the boardwalk joined in the song, clapping their hands, and the Christmas carolers raised their voices to add to the fun. Their joyful singing filled the night and spread out over the town like the bright jewels of stars across the night sky.
Trey held Misty’s hand as they sang together, easily transitioning from popular country songs to old standards. “Joy to the World,” “The First Noel,” and “Deck the Halls” were favorites.
She could easily see a scene like this played out over a hundred years ago. Only she would be sitting in a horse-drawn wagon wearing old-time clothes—longskirt and stylish hat. She felt a deep sense of continuity, a way of passing time-honored traditions from one generation to the next. She imagined enjoying Christmas in the Country with her yet-to-be little girl. Misty knew her parents had loved being together as a family at Christmas. From now on, she would celebrate the season in their memory and carry forward this fine tradition.
As the music wound down, the ATVs came to life, the hayriders waved in farewell, and folks on the boardwalk waved back. Soon the caravan set off down Main Street, turned onto Cougar Lane, and trailed through neighborhoods as the hayriders sang Christmas carols to people who came out of houses onto their front lawns.
“Are you having fun?” Trey asked, glancing over at Misty.
“Yes! So much to do and so much fun.”
“That’s Christmas in the Country.”
“I can see why folks come here from all over.”
“One of my favorite sections of the hayride is coming up.”
“There’s more? And better?”
“Just wait and see.”
Soon Kent turned down a street and the ATVs pulling trailers with their twinkling Christmas lights and happy carolers followed, one after another, until they disappeared from Misty’s view.
“Now watch closely when I turn down that street.” Trey pointed ahead.
“Okay.” But she doubted there was anything that could top what she’d already seen in Wildcat Bluff.
As he made the turn, he slowed to a near stop, letting the caravan move on ahead without them.
“Oh, Trey! It’s gorgeous.” A large cluster of red, green, orange, and purple giant lollipops wrapped in cellophane were spotlighted by a single bright lamp at the base of the display on one side of the entrance to the street.
“Thought you’d like it.”
“Lollipop Lane.” Misty read the sign below the lollipops made with a fancy, crimson script on a bright, white board. She clapped her hands in delight.
Trey turned onto Lollipop Lane, driving at a snail’s pace behind the line of hayriders. On either side of the street in front of the sidewalks ran a long ribbon of multicolored lights that connected the lane like an undulating river with gentle twists and turns.
“Oh! I love Lollipop Lane.” Misty pulled her phone out of her pocket and snapped a few photos. She quickly texted one to Cindi Lou, knowing her BFF would love the sight, too.
Misty glanced from side to side to make sure she missed nothing along the lane. The residents had gone all out for Christmas. She’d never seen such a wide variety of decorations in such a limited area. She admired traditional red and green balls hanging from trees, an inflatable Santa Claus with reindeer, shimmering blue and white icicles stretched along a roofline with an illuminated angel on top, an electronic light show timed to Christmas music, and hand-carved and painted gingerbread folk. The creativity went on and on.
She wondered how the ribbon of light was made, so she looked closely at the ground. Folks had cut the ends off plastic gallon milk jugs and placed a colored lightbulb inside each container before laying them end to end to form a continuous line of stunning color.
She turned to Trey and smiled in happiness. “It’s all so beautiful. Everyone has gone to so much time and trouble. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“My pleasure.” He returned her smile. “I knew you’d like Lollipop Lane.”
“How long have residents been doing this?”
“Years. It’s a tradition.”
“And a wonderful one.”
As the hayriders made their way down Lollipop Lane, singing Christmas carols with gusto, residents came out of their homes to watch and listen. Families laughed, pointed at friends, and waved to the caravan. Many folks carried kids, cats, or dogs in their arms. They were all dressed in colorful holiday clothes, including most of the cats and dogs.
Misty waved back, joining in the caroling with Trey, as the line moved steadily forward. Ahead, she saw that Lollipop Lane came to an end at a cross street. She was disappointed she’d soon be leaving behind this special place.
When she felt her phone vibrate, she checked and saw a text from Cindi Lou. “Yowzer!” Misty chuckled at her friend’s response.
“Important?” Trey glanced down at Misty’s phone.
“No. I just couldn’t keep from sharing Lollipop Lane with my BFF Cindi Lou.”
“And?”
“She loved it.”
“Good.”
As the last of the ATVs pulling trailers turned off Lollipop Lane, Trey stopped his four-wheeler.
Spread out before Misty on the front lawn across the street was a large Nativity scene illuminated by floodlights. The figures were beautifully carved of wood and hand painted to look as real as possible. She felt deeply touched by the beautiful sight. And then she looked closer to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.
“Are those horses?”
Trey chuckled as he pointed at the Nativity scene. “That’s Wildcat Bluff heritage at its finest. Our ancestors decided it’d be smart for Comanche ponies to watch over the Baby Jesus instead of camels. If you look to the side of the manger scene, you’ll see a panther guarding them all. ”
“Makes a Wildc
at Bluff kind of sense, doesn’t it?”
“Yep. Horses once meant the difference between life and death to a person in the West. And cats have long protected this area. First, actual wildcats like cougars. And now other cats. It suits Wildcat Bluff.”
She nodded in agreement as she turned to him with a smile.
He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Just like you.”
Chapter 39
As Trey drove away from Lollipop Lane, his cell phone vibrated where he’d tucked it in his shirt pocket.
He jerked it out and slid it open. “Trey here.”
“All hell broke loose,” Harry said in a gruff voice.
“How bad?” Trey got a sick feeling in his belly.
“What is it?” Misty appeared alarmed in the yellow light of a street lamp as she leaned toward him.
Trey turned on the speakerphone so she could hear his conversation with the police chief.
“Fires all over the place. Looks like somebody’s trying to burn down the county.”
“That’s crazy.”
“You’re telling me.” Harry’s voice took on a hard edge. “Sent out all the rigs. Not enough. We called in Montague, Cooke, and Grayson Counties for support. Fannin County is on alert. Troopers and sheriff are on the job, too. But we’re still shorthanded.”
“Better get Hedy to call out the ranchers and farmers,” Trey said. “They know our country roads like the backs of their hands and I bet they can spot a fire as fast as anybody.”
“Hedy’s on it. Christmas in the Country slowed our efforts, but the event’s winding down so folks are getting freed up.”
“Perfect timing for the culprits, isn’t it?” Trey pulled off to the side of the street, stopped his ATV, and watched the caravan go on without him. Kent could do without backup at this point in the route.
“Yep. Somebody’s got it in for us.”
“How many fires?”
“Not sure.”
Trey groaned. “Okay. Hayride’s over. Kent’s leading the ATVs back to the school. Call him. Soon as they unload the passengers and unhook the trailers, they can scour the pastures on their four-wheelers.”
