The timing had been entirely coincidental, which made it all the more magical to Bart. The club was a lot different now, a lot safer and a lot bigger, with members Bart didn’t know all that well, but sitting at this table, listening to Badger welcome him home, he could almost, almost believe that they’d simply waited for him. Or that he’d never left.
The seat they’d opened for him had once been Havoc’s, who’d died ten years before. It had been Nolan’s, Havoc’s son, until he’d taken the SAA flash a year ago. The way the men were arranged, he’d ended up almost in the same spot he’d been in before, relative to the officers of that time. Isaac, Show, and Len, who’d all stepped down from leadership, had taken their relative positions to the opposite end of the table—Isaac at the foot and Show and Len at his sides. Sitting next to Show again, but on his other side, Bart, the former, and first, Missouri Intelligence Officer, felt familiar and content. Like the others, he was happy not to wear officer’s flash of any kind. Sitting with the wise old men felt like home to him, whatever his age.
And in this club, his nearly forty-four years meant he was one of the old men, younger than only the former officers.
Badger stood and walked down to the end of the table. Bart stood to meet him. In a gesture the reverse of the one he’d performed during his last meeting in the SoCal Keep, Bart took a gleaming white Missouri rocker from Badger.
Then Badger surprised him and held out a slim white flash patch. Never Say Die, it read.
For a brief moment, Bart couldn’t move. He’d worn that flash when he’d worn the Missouri patch before. All the men who’d fought and survived, and won, the shootout with Lawrence Ellis’s men fifteen years earlier wore that flash. Bart had lost it when he’d given up his kutte.
Since then, he’d worn two other patches. He had not expected to have the honor of wearing that flash now.
When Bart didn’t take the proffered flash, Badger laid it on the table at Bart’s new seat. “You were there, brother. You fought and bled for that flash. It’s yours. And this one, too.” He pulled another patch from an inside pocket of his own kutte.
Havoc, it read. The men who’d worn a Missouri patch when Havoc had been killed wore those on the bottom front of their kuttes. Again, Bart stared. He hadn’t even been Horde then.
“Take it, brother,” Badger said, holding it out.
Bart lifted his eyes and found Nolan, sitting in the SAA’s seat. When Havoc’s son nodded, Bart took the patch.
And with that, he was truly home again.
~oOo~
The mother charter of the Horde was bigger than it had been in years, and it was younger than it had ever been. They’d reclaimed their reputation for wild Friday parties, and Bart had heard all about that while he’d been in Madrone. But on this Friday, when he’d rejoined the charter and was the man of the night, the clubhouse was family-friendly, and he felt at ease about his kids spending the evening in the place.
The Hall was intensely, achingly familiar and also oddly different. It had been refurbished since his earlier time, but it was still a big room for people to play and get drunk in.
The clubhouse as a whole was smaller. The club had given over the big rooms it had used for its dark work to the attached Signal Bend Construction. Now the clubhouse was simply the Hall, the Keep, the dorm, a couple of offices, a workout room and ring, the kitchen, and the bays, where they worked on their bikes and a couple of the guys did freelance repair and customization work. Nothing at all like the high-end Virtuoso Cycles. Just a grimy garage.
Bart leaned against a support beam and watched Tommy and Double A playing pool. Over by the sofas, Ian and Lexi were playing a board game with Millie, Joey, Loki, and Henry. Deck was playing with Megan and Caroline and some giant dogs. Gia had charge of Badger and Adrienne’s little guy, John, and Double A’s old lady, Candy, had their baby in her arms. The other women were working the food and giving the men shit, and all the adults seemed to have at least half an eye on all the kids.
Len came up to him and dropped his arm across his shoulders. “Good to have you back, brother.”
Bart nodded. It was good to be back, too. But he wouldn’t have been if Riley were still alive, so saying ‘it’s good to be back’ out loud came with a lot of baggage.
Len gave him a sharp look with his lone eye, then seemed to get it and changed the subject. “Isaac said that Lexi did okay in the saddle the other day.”
“She did. She was a little sore after, and she’s not ready to ride on her own, but she did okay.” He smiled at the memory. “She was really happy for the first time since…” He drifted off. It was hard to say Riley’s name and any word that meant her end, and he knew the Len understood him.
“Bring ‘em over to our place. We’re fostering three mares and a gelding. The geld and two of the mares are former trail horses. They’d be great for beginners.”
“I will. Tomorrow, if you’re up for it. They start school on Monday, and they’re a little freaked. It’d be nice to have a good weekend before they go.”
“How about you?”
Bart cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“You thought about how you’re gonna fill your time? I know you don’t need to work, but I guess you need to work, you know?”
Bart knew. Neither he nor, if he was as careful as he planned to be, his kids would ever need to work for food or shelter, or comfort, but even Deck would be in preschool several hours every day, and sitting around alone in a house was no way to live, no way to heal.
But there was nothing he wanted to do. No interest he had. That had all died with Riley.
“I thought I’d focus on the house for a while. I want to turn that shed into a playroom for the kids, and the garage and barn need some work. I told the kids we’d get goats and chickens in the spring.”
Len considered him for a moment, then nodded and took a drink of his whiskey. “We had an early freeze right before you got here. It warmed up again right away, but the olds are saying we’re in for a cold winter. You remember winter?” He gave him a wry smirk.
“Yeah, I remember.” Missouri winters could really suck; they weren’t something you could forget. But other than a week in Tahoe, the kids had never experienced anything like winter.
“Send out a call if you want help. Should get any exterior work done sooner than later.”
“Thanks, brother. I will.”
With a hard squeeze of his hand around the back Bart’s neck, Len insisted, “I mean it, Bart. Reach out. Don’t hole up. And talk to Badge and Show, find some work.”
“I got it, Len. Thanks.”
Deck came running over then. “Daddy,” he whispered and then grabbed his crotch. “I need the potty.”
Laughing, Len bowed out, and Bart finished his beer and handed the empty to a passing club girl. Then he took his son’s hand and led him down the side hall.
For now, his work was his family. Making them a home. That was his interest, what he wanted to do. The rest of it, he’d figure out later.
SIX
Ian stared out the living room window and sighed dramatically, letting the inhale lift his shoulders and then huffing it out as loudly as he possibly could.
Since he knew he was expected to do so, Bart asked, “What’s wrong, buddy?” He also knew the answer, but he waited for Ian to say.
“I wanted a white Christmas. I thought it snowed here.”
The winter had come in bitterly cold, as expected, the kind of cold that killed all but the flurriest snowflakes. They hadn’t accumulated even an inch yet since the first lasting freeze.
Bart walked over, stepping through tumbleweeds of wadded wrapping paper and ribbon and locking his knees against a sudden bumbling onslaught by the kids’ new puppy, a little female bloodhound they’d all decided to name Demi, in honor of Riley’s most famous role. A giggling Deck came chasing right after her, so Bart stood and waited until it was safe to cross.
He stood at his older son’s side. “I tol
d you it doesn’t snow on Christmas itself all that often. But it’ll happen. January’s a pretty good month for snow.”
Ian turned and sighed again at the new toboggans leaning against the wall. Big wooden beauties. They had a perfect hill sloping down from their drive toward the house. All they needed was about six inches of good packing snow.
He and Riley had always been, relative to their circumstances, careful about indulging their children. On this Christmas, however, Bart had let loose. The puppy, the toboggans, a television for Deck’s room—Signal Bend had full cable and satellite coverage now—a gleaming white upright piano for Lexi, and a go-cart for Ian. For starters.
He wasn’t trying to buy their love; he had that secured. He wasn’t even trying to buy their happiness, exactly. He just wanted them to have a day of wonder. They deserved to feel wonder again. So he’d taken them out in the bitter cold early in December, and they’d cut down a tree from their own property, and he’d withstood the heartache of hanging Christmas decorations Riley had picked out. She’d loved to cover the house in glitter and sparkle, so they’d done the same in this new house.
They’d been doing better, all of them. Ian enjoyed his new school, and he’d ended up in Henry’s class, so they were becoming extra close. Lexi was struggling a little, simply because she’d never started late before, and there had already been a smartest student in her class. It was taking her some time to figure out whether to be friends or rivals with the boy who had that honor. But she really liked that nobody knew who she was. She’d gone to school her whole life—Ian had, too—with people who knew that she was Riley Chase’s child, even though the kids had Bart’s name. She’d always felt that as pressure to be perfect, and now she was just Lexi, the new kid. By Christmas break—they still called it Christmas break in rural Missouri—she had a couple of friends that weren’t Horde kids.
Her physical therapy was going well. Tasha and the therapist both thought there was a good chance she’d be able to really ride horses—maybe not race, but ride comfortably. And they weren’t saying she absolutely wouldn’t be able to race someday.
She was taking a special ballet class that the therapist had recommended, for young dancers just like her, with some experience, but who’d been injured. Most of them had been injured dancing, but they were all recovering from serious trauma and surgery.
Lexi hadn’t been one of the best dancers in her class even before she’d been hurt. She was never going to be a professional ballerina. But she loved to do it, and Bart loved to see her get it back, in any way she could.
Deck was fine. Deck had adapted to their new life with ebullient joy. His ghost had stayed behind in Madrone, and he loved his room, their land, his new family. He loved school and had a little crush on his teacher. He loved that when he went into the IGA, Mrs. Madigan always gave him a lollipop, and when they went to Marie’s, he always got a bowl of ice cream with maraschino cherries for dessert.
He’d stopped asking about his Mommy. Bart had known it was going to happen, and he’d known it wouldn’t take such a little guy long. But he also knew exactly how many days it had been since Deck had asked without being prompted by something his siblings had said.
Thirty-seven.
One thing kept Bart from despair at the thought that Riley would fade from their children’s memories—that she was, in Deck, already fading: that it was happening because they were healing. The hole in their lives would never fill completely, but it was no longer so deep. They were surrounded by love, and they felt like they belonged.
Their family had folded them into all their holiday traditions as if Bart and his kids had always been a part. Lilli had invited all the kids over to bake cookies and make candy. Shannon, Adrienne, and Cory had taken Gia, Millie, Megan, Caroline, and Lexi to see The Nutcracker in St. Louis. Adrienne and Badger had taken Deck to Springfield to see Santa with their brood. Isaac, Show, Badger, and Bart had enlisted Bo, Joey, Loki, Henry, and Ian to do outdoor lights on all their houses.
The whole month had been Christmas. Riley would have been charmed and delighted to tears. In Bart’s experience, most Californians had a much mellower relationship to the holiday. Maybe cold weather and the possibility of snow was necessary to fully feel the spirit. Riley had done all she could, but there had never been the full-family engagement in Madrone that Signal Bend experienced.
Signal Bend had carolers. Carriage rides from the B&B. Actual Victorian-era lampposts, with real pine boughs wrapped around them. For all the growth and changes the town had undergone in the years he’d been away, it had remained a small country town steeped in history and tradition and strengthened by community.
They’d spent Christmas Eve day in town, with most of the citizens Signal Bend, helping collect and deliver donations for a gift drive that covered three counties. Kids without much would wake on Christmas morning and have some things to unwrap, get to experience a little unreserved joy.
That night, the Horde had held its Christmas Eve party. The town was invited, and the town came. It was a family event…until about ten or eleven o’clock. Then, kids went home, usually with their moms, and it became one of the biggest blowouts of the year. Lots of hung over—or still drunk—men had to assemble toys with unintelligible instructions early on Christmas morning.
Bart had taken his kids home shortly after supper. And while his children slept on Christmas Eve, on his own in the living room surrounded by twinkling lights and glittery angels his wife had brought home in their life before, he had filled the living room to bursting with gifts.
Demi and Deck came barreling past them again, and Lexi scolded them both: “Be careful! One of you is going to get hurt or break something!”
Bart put his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “There’ll be snow, and it will be awesome. I make you that promise. C’mon, bud. Help me with the waffles.”
~oOo~
The Horde had Christmas that afternoon at Badger and Adrienne’s house. All the kids got another round of presents, and then everyone sat down to a laden table.
With so many people, so many children—and so many dogs—the house was chaotic. By the time supper was over, Bart had had all he could take of good cheer. Though the temperature was well below freezing, Bart pulled his jacket on and went outside with a fresh beer.
Badger’s house was a custom build by Signal Bend Construction. An enormous ranch-style with ample room for his big family. Across the front was a deep covered porch. Bart sat on a chair down a ways from the front door and nursed his beer. His kids were occupied, playing contentedly inside with the other kids and a mountain of new toys.
He just wanted a moment to miss his wife in peace on his first Christmas without her.
But he wasn’t going to get it. As he sat there in the early twilight of a late afternoon in winter, he saw that he wasn’t alone. Nolan was leaning on a small car parked among the crowd of vehicles. The way he was leaning told Bart that he had somebody with him, somebody bracketed inside his body. Which would, unless Nolan had changed a great deal since he’d sat at the SoCal table, mean that he had a girl, and he had her outside in below-freezing winter weather. They weren’t doing anything but talking, but there was something illicit about the scene nevertheless.
Distracted from his own thoughts by the interesting puzzle that was going on over there, Bart tried to figure out who it could be. No club girls had been invited today. He didn’t recognize the car, a compact dwarfed among trucks and SUVs.
Well, goddamn. Show’s oldest kids, his daughters Rose and Iris, were visiting for Christmas, and Bart dimly recalled someone teasing Rose about her ‘go kart’ of a car. Rose was Nolan’s age, Iris a few years younger. Was Nolan pushing up on one of Show’s girls? Bart tried to remember where he’d last seen either of them that day and couldn’t.
As he leaned forward in interest, he caught a shadow moving over the porch floor, and a few seconds later the front door opened and Show stepped out, his eyes focused directly on that scene.
&
nbsp; “Fuck,” Show muttered, not noticing Bart sitting several feet farther down.
“Show,” Bart said, keeping his voice low. The big man turned, surprised, then sent Bart a rueful grin.
“Hey, brother.” He walked over and sat in the chair next to Bart. “You see anything I should know about?”
Nolan was a brother, too. Bart wasn’t getting in the middle of that mess. He just shook his head. But then his curiosity got the better of him. “Nolan and Rose are a thing?”
“Nah. Rosie’s got some guy at home in Chicago.” He nodded toward the cars. “That’s Iris he’s got pinned. Much worse. She wants to stay.”
Iris had just graduated from college a couple of weeks earlier. But Bart didn’t see the crisis. He knew Nolan. “Nolan’s a good guy, Show. You know that. And he knows better than to play lightly with your girl.”
Calm & Storm (The Night Horde SoCal Book 6) Page 35
