Lydia felt a stirring of something green, her eyes moving to the wedding rings Geri wore. Faith didn’t wear any, however.
Ely frowned. “It’s freezing in here.”
“Yeah, it’s been that way all morning,” Lydia said, her voice sounding a little more breathless than she liked. Her cheeks warmed as she noted the women watching her, then Ely, with knowing glances.
Now they knew whose shirt was thrown over the sofa in the other room, of course.
“That’s actually what I came up to talk to you about. Cold in the bunkhouses, too.”
Lydia frowned. “I just had the tanks filled two weeks ago.” At significant cost, she added to herself. Fuel oil wasn’t cheap. “Something must be wrong with the burners.”
Ely’s expression turned serious. “I’ll kick on the generators and we can start the woodstoves and the fireplace until we can get someone out here to see what happened,” he said, grabbing his coat and stepping back into his boots.
“Thanks,” Lydia said.
“Wow,” Geri said, fanning herself as Ely went back out the door. “If that’s how they grow them back in Philly, I think I should have gone to college back east like Mom said,” she added.
Faith laughed. “Aw, you know you wouldn’t trade Alex for anyone, but I have to second that wow. He’s yours?” she asked Lydia frankly. “I can see why you want to sell and go back home. Though he sure fits in here very nicely.”
Lydia stammered, unsure how to respond. How to say Ely had only been hers for a night—maybe for as long as they decided this would last—and there wasn’t anything else going on?
“We’re just friends,” she managed, turning to get another cup of coffee.
“I wish I had a friend like that,” Faith said with a grin.
Lydia couldn’t help but smile. Faith had a way, particularly, of making it impossible not to.
“He’s a good guy. But we’re not involved,” she said, unsure how convincing she was being.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I invited him for coffee? You know, welcomed him to town?” Faith asked innocently.
“No, of course not. He’s a free agent.”
“Well, then, maybe I’ll invite him for more than coffee,” Faith said with a wiggle of her eyebrows that made Lydia stiffen initially, but then she noticed the mischief in both women’s eyes as they watched her.
“You’re teasing me,” she said, shaking her head. How could two people she hadn’t even known for an hour sucker her in so neatly? Usually only Tessa knew her well enough to do that.
“Hard not to,” Geri said, smirking. “You need to loosen up. Get into the Christmas spirit. Hanging about five thousand Christmas lights should do the trick. We’ll start that tomorrow. Your mom kept them up in the attic. They need sorting and checking every year, though.”
Lydia’s jaw dropped. “Five thousand?”
“It’s only about fifty strands of one-hundred-count lights...don’t worry, not as bad as it sounds,” Geri said. “We’ve done it every year with a few guys who are willing to reach the high spots, up on the roof, and along the edges of the barns.”
“Five thousand,” Lydia repeated. “And I take it there’s room in the budget to pay for the electric bill for running those all weekend?”
“Yes. Money we save by having the site donated,” Geri pointed out.
Lydia nodded. “Okay. Then, maybe we can find who’s going to be willing to help me clean out the rest of the attic and the basement. I can get the main floors on my own, but I’ll need help with those two areas.”
Geri wasn’t the only one who could drive a hard bargain.
“Done,” Geri agreed, and Lydia felt some measure of relief that she wouldn’t be facing all of the house clean-out alone. A delicate chime interrupted their discussion, and Faith pulled a phone from her pocket, frowning, the worry coming back into her eyes.
“I have to take this, just a second,” she said, walking back to the front room.
Lydia watched her leave, and then looked at Geri, whose features had also pulled tight.
“What’s going on?”
Geri shook her head. “That girl has too much weight on her shoulders. Family problems, her sister, and her nephew—that kid is going to run them all into the ground. Faith even broke up with the sheriff because of it—they had too many disagreements, though he was just doing his job, getting after Roger. But I’m glad you said okay to the festival, because it’s the only happy thing she has going on right now.”
“Faith was dating the sheriff? Sheriff Granger?” Lydia asked. She remembered Steve Granger from years ago, and noticed he was sheriff right away. Steve was Ginny’s brother, and one of the last people she wanted to run into for any reason. It was also why she hadn’t bothered filing a report—it was hard to believe that Steve Granger would have any interest in helping her.
“They were pretty serious, and I never saw her happier, but then her sister’s husband left, and Julie, her sister, can barely take care of herself, let alone the boy. It all falls on Faith. The sheriff had to arrest Roger one night, and they had a huge fight. He was just doing his job, trying to help that boy, too. She can’t see that—she’s just trying to protect her family.”
Lydia blew out a breath, shaking her head.
“That sucks.”
“Sure does.”
It made Lydia even more certain that she didn’t want to have any of those complications in her life.
Faith came back a few minutes later, looking stressed and saying she had to go. Obviously there was a problem, but Lydia didn’t ask what—none of her business, and she wanted to keep it that way. They were nice enough people, and they had an arrangement that would be helpful to her and them, but that’s as far as it went. She didn’t want to get any more involved than she had to.
8
ELY WALKED INTO the PET heating fuel company, approaching the small desk where an older woman sat with a slick new tablet on the desk, her phone ringing like mad.
Her fingers flew over the shiny screen of the tablet as she fielded the phone calls, making appointments and addressing problems, not even aware of his presence.
Or so he thought. Without looking up, she held up one manicured finger to tell him to wait.
He took in the small office that smelled slightly of petroleum and pine from the small, fresh Christmas tree in the corner. It made him aware of the fact that Lydia had not put up one Christmas decoration, understandable, and very likely to change now that she was part of the Christmas Festival. That had been a shocker.
He couldn’t wait to hear the whole story when he got back to the ranch, although talking wasn’t perhaps the first thing on his mind. The night before had been insane—one of the best in his life—and he wanted more. He wanted to enjoy everything he could with Lydia before their time was done, and they headed back to Philly.
Finally, the woman hung up the phone and sat back in her chair, taking a breath.
“Welcome to PET fuel. I’m Millie. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Millie. I’m here to check on an order that was made a few weeks ago, but was never delivered. Woke up pretty cold this morning,” he said with a mock shiver.
“Lot of people did,” she said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “You’d think they’d prepare earlier. What was the name?”
“Lydia Hamilton? She ordered a fill-up for her mother’s ranch a few weeks ago—”
“Oh, I know the Hamilton place, yes. I did take an order for them, I remember—yes, the paperwork is right here—but it was canceled.”
“Canceled? By whom?”
“I have no idea—assumed it was Ms. Hamilton herself. I didn’t take the call. I saw the canceled order, and just figured maybe she was going with a different supplier.”
Ely frowned. “No. She had no intention of canceling, and we really need that delivery,” Ely said. “You have no idea who canceled it?”
“Nope. We had a temp on that week, and she didn’t take very good
notes.”
Ely nodded. “Is there any way to get a delivery out there today?”
Millie frowned. “I can put you on the schedule, and it might be tonight, at the earliest. The guys are working around the clock right now with this storm.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Ely said with a smile, and Millie smirked in return. Not easily charmed, he could see.
“That’s a slick piece of hardware you have there,” he added, nodding to the tablet.
“Thank you. I finally convinced the boss to get rid of that mammoth desktop computer he had in here and come into the twenty-first century. This little baby does everything I could imagine and more, but I can’t seem to get the cash register app to work without crashing.”
“Mind if I take a look? We have one that’s similar that we use in our business back home, and I think I might know what the problem is.”
Millie eyed him up and down and then slowly handed over the tablet. Ely checked out the application and found it did indeed have the same registration conflict as the one they had started using back home. Within seconds, he had fixed the problem, and showed it to Millie in case it happened again.
“That’s terrific! Thank you,” she said with a smile as the phone started ringing again. “I’ll see what I can do to get you moved up in the schedule today, but no promises,” she said as she reached for the phone.
“Thanks, Millie,” Ely said with a wink, drawing a smile and a shake of the head from the woman as she went back to work.
He was not smiling, however, as he left the office. Someone had clearly canceled the order for fuel with the intention of messing with Lydia again. They were definitely trying to get her out of the house. But why? Smitty told him the water heater had been tampered with, as well. How could someone manage all of this, and leave no path behind? Unless they were at the ranch, he thought, his mind going back to Kyle again.
Picking up his phone, he dialed Jonas’s number. After several rings, his brother picked up only as Ely winced, remembering the time change and that it was several hours earlier on the East Coast.
“What?” his brother growled into the phone, and Ely thought he heard Tessa’s soft laughter in the background. Ely hoped he hadn’t caught his brother and sister-in-law at an inappropriate moment.
“Sorry, Jon. I forgot about the time difference,” Ely said.
Jonas said something to Tessa, who murmured something back, and Ely increasingly felt like he was definitely interrupting something.
“Listen, I can call back—”
“No, we’re up now. I had to get up anyway,” Jonas said, though clearly not happy. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you had found out anything on that name I gave you? Kyle Jones?”
“Not much,” Jonas said, sounding more like himself. “Kind of weird, really. He shows a work history, bank records with paychecks at one of your local banks being deposited over the last seven months, but other than that, he’s either been living off the grid, hiding something, or both. I go back longer than seven months and all I find is some sketchy work history and a few creditors, one last known address in California, but not a heck of a lot.”
Ely took that in. “Sounds like someone trying to hide their past.”
“That, or just a drifter. Picks up work where he can, doesn’t have much past to hide. But no criminal record popped up, from his name anyway. If you can send me some prints, maybe I could have my friends at the Bureau take a look,” Jonas said.
“Getting tight with the Feds, huh?”
“They have their good points,” Jonas said with a laugh. “Lots and lots of resources.”
Ely knew that was true.
“Oh, there’s one other thing, while I have you on the line.”
“What?”
“Guess who’s back here for Christmas?”
Ely peered down the main street of Clear River where people walked to and fro, heading to work, running errands, enjoying the first day with no snow since he’d gotten there.
“Have no idea.”
“Luke. Just got in a few days ago, came by the office this morning.”
Ely let out a whoop, startling several passersby. “That’s great. Is he back for a while? I don’t want to miss seeing him.”
Luke Berringer was their first cousin on their father’s side. He’d grown up in New York, and his family had moved to Philly when their uncle had gotten sick. They’d all run together in the same pack as kids. Luke’s IQ had always been off the charts, especially when it came to numbers—that led to a special knack for finance, and starting his own investment company by the time he was twenty. He’d been at the top of his game when he’d suffered a personal catastrophe at his office—an employee he’d laid off had killed himself—and Luke had not taken it well.
Closing everything down, he had signed over the business to his VP, letting him buy out his share, and had taken off to find...whatever. The last thing Ely knew, Luke was spending a year in a meditation program in some exotic far-flung place. He could afford it, being wildly, independently wealthy.
“I think he’s back for good. He was asking about a job, actually.”
“A job? Why on earth would he need a job?”
“He signed over all of his money to various causes and came back to start over. It’s something to think about. He has some pretty high-level computer skills, and he picked up some pretty impressive martial arts and language skills on his travels. He might be able to do some white-collar work for us—there’s been more of a demand for that.”
Ely shook his head in surprise. “I can’t believe he gave it all away, and then again, I can totally believe it. He seems to be doing well?”
“As solid as I’ve ever see him. Different. More focused. More calm. But good. I think he’s made peace with it all.”
“That’s great. It’s fine with me, but if you want to wait until we can all talk to him together, I should be back after Christmas.”
“Staying on through the holiday?”
“Yeah. Lydia needs some help here, and there’s something going on. Someone’s giving her a hard time, and I don’t know what it’s about, but I’ll feel better being here until she’s back, too.”
They continued to talk and catch up when he caught sight of a familiar face—Roger, the young hoodlum he’d seen in the sheriff’s office. From the boy’s body language—and given the time of day—Ely was willing to bet that the kid was skipping school again and up to no good.
“Jonas, I have to go.”
“Sure—you okay?” his brother asked, reading into his tone.
“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later. Thanks on Kyle,” Ely said, shutting down his phone and following the kid to see what he was up to as the young man disappeared around the edge of a brick office building.
In the back alley behind the building, Ely saw Roger meeting with another person who was obscured by the hood on his coat. They obviously had some business to conduct. Buying some weed, probably, Ely thought.
But he was wrong, his senses heightening as he saw the older guy hand Roger a paper bag—and a gun. He guessed the sheriff was right: they did have their share of serious problems here in Clear River. A young, disgruntled teen buying a gun in a back alley couldn’t be good. Ely continued to watch as the exchange took place, and the older guy left.
Roger tucked the bag and gun inside his jacket and moved to leave the alley. Ely stepped out in front, blocking his path as he did so. The young man nearly barreled into him, and Ely stood solid as the kid caught himself and drew back, making as if to run.
“Aw, kid, don’t make me chase you down,” he said on a sigh.
Roger eyed Ely warily. “Leave me alone. Who the hell are you anyway?”
“Just someone visiting from out of town,” Ely said easily. “But I’m guessing you aren’t exactly Christmas shopping back here, and whatever you have in your coat, there, is not a present.”
The kid scoffed. “Depends on how you think about it.”<
br />
“You’re a real tough guy, huh? Give me a break,” Ely said, staring the boy down. To his credit, Roger didn’t blink. The kid had some size, some muscle, though he was no match for Ely, even armed.
“Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”
“Why? So you can go tattle to your buddy the sheriff?”
“I’m going to do that, anyway, so I might as well get my facts straight. Give it to me.”
Roger glared, his cheeks burning red with agitation as he sized up Ely and reached into his coat. Ely tensed, prepared for whatever the kid might pull. He’d learned not to underestimate any opponent when he was in Afghanistan. And Roger definitely had that cornered look.
He relaxed a second later as the kid took the bag out of his pocket, but didn’t hand it over. He looked a lot less sure of himself, though.
“Are you a Fed?” he asked, looking a lot more nervous.
“No,” Ely said. “The gun, too. Before you hurt yourself.”
“My dad taught me how to shoot when I was a kid,” he scoffed.
“And he wouldn’t want you doing whatever you’re doing right now.”
“He doesn’t care about me,” Roger said, looking miserable. “The gun is just for protection. I need to deliver this, or I’m in some deep shit. Like, really deep.”
Ely narrowed his gaze, reaching out faster than the kid could react and snatching the bag from his hands.
“What the hell?” Ely said, dumping the contents of the bag on the ground. “You’re involved in meth?”
The vials landed in the dirty snow, but a few of them broke. The kid groaned, covering his face with his hands.
“Why did you do that?” he yelled, falling to his knees and scrambling to try to save what he could from the broken vials. The gun fell out on the pavement, as well. “You trying to get me killed or what?”
Ely leaned over and yanked the kid up by the front of his worn coat.
“You were the one who broke into Lydia’s house that night, weren’t you? And you dropped one of these? Why?”
Studying his face, Ely would be willing to bet that Roger wasn’t buying or using; he didn’t show any physical signs. That meant he was involved on the other side somehow: supply.
Hers for the Holidays Page 10
