Hers for the Holidays

by Samantha Hunter

  Lydia, shocked, had no response but to respond, aware of the chorus of “oooooooo” and the childish giggles from the younger kids.

  “Sorry. I needed that,” Ely said with a grin and a wink, and strode off looking like...well, like he had just kissed her in front of God and everyone.

  “That looked like fun. I hope you don’t mind that I cut to the front of the line,” someone said, and Lydia looked away from Ely to find Ginny facing her.

  Lydia froze, unsure what to say. “Of course not. Welcome,” she murmured. But then she had no clue what would happen next.

  “Listen, could we talk for a second?” Ginny asked, and Lydia agreed, a lump in her throat.

  “I’ll be back in ten, guys. Remember your spot in line and help yourself to some hot cocoa and cookies,” she said with a too-bright smile as she invited Ginny farther in.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Lydia said, unsure what else to say, and then took a breath. “No, I do know what to say. I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Ginny. I’ve said that a million times over the last twelve years, but never to you, and I should have done that. I never should have goaded you into riding that horse, and I am completely responsible for everything that happened that day. I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I don’t blame you for hating me. I hate myself for what I did. But I am sorry,” Lydia said, meeting her former friend’s eyes squarely.

  Ginny looked gorgeous. Wrapped in a white wool coat and hat, her chestnut hair was gleaming, her cheeks pink, and her big brown eyes took in Lydia with stark surprise.

  “Wow, that was quite a speech,” Ginny said. “My turn now?”

  Lydia braced herself for whatever Ginny had to say, and nodded. “Whatever you have to say to me, I know I deserve it.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Ginny said with a heavy breath, and Lydia just stared, confused.

  “Sorry for what? What on earth are you talking about?”

  Lydia watched as Ginny’s hands clutched tightly in her lap.

  “Well, I won’t say that I didn’t hate you after it happened. I was scared and I felt like everything I wanted was gone—including my best friend, who just...left. How could you go, Lydia? If ever I needed you, it was then.”

  Lydia was flattened. “But I...it was my fault...and your mother. I had to leave. It was best for everyone.”

  Ginny shook her head. “It wasn’t best for me. I needed you. That’s what I was angry with you about. For leaving. I know what my father said to you—but he was just distraught, as well. When you really left, well, everyone was stunned. What happened wasn’t your fault—not entirely—believe me, several years of therapy taught me that. I’m the one who climbed up on that horse. That was my choice. But we were all kids. We did foolish things.”

  Lydia reeled, Ely’s words coming back to her.

  “Leaving was your choice, and I did hate you for that. But then your mother told me about you, what you were doing, the good and the bad, and she knew that you blamed yourself. That you refused to let yourself be happy. She gave me your number years ago. I know she hoped that we’d make contact again, and that maybe I could get you to come back,” Ginny said, shaking her head and turning away.

  “I didn’t call because I thought that you might not want to come back here, be friends with me. That I was somehow repulsive to you. It’s what I thought when we met in the store—you seemed so...horrified,” Ginny said lamely, holding up her hand against Lydia’s protest. “But your mother was sick, and she’s gone now. And if I had called that number, you might have had more time with her. I suppose I feel that you didn’t have that time because of me,” Ginny said, her voice choking. “So for that, I’m sorry.”

  Lydia was beyond overwhelmed, trying to process it all, but her mind was spinning. How could things have been so terribly misunderstood, all of that time together—with Ginny, and her family—so tragically lost?

  But Lydia pulled herself from the past to the present. There was nothing she could do about what had happened; but she could do something about right now.

  “I’m not repulsed by you, Ginny. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now. You’re beautiful, brave...you always were. I just didn’t think you’d ever want me around again. I was horrified in the store, for having to face up to my past and the consequences of what I’d done—not by you,” Lydia said, trying to find words for it all. “I did see Mom before she died, and we talked, on the phone, and by email, over the years. Dad, too. Like you said, that was my choice, too, not coming home. Not your fault,” Lydia said, sitting down hard on a bench by the wall.

  “All that time wasted,” Ginny said regretfully.

  “Yeah,” Lydia echoed, and they sat in silence for a moment.

  “I loved the tattoo you gave my daughter. She couldn’t wait to show me. I was wondering if I could have one to match it?”

  Lydia’s head snapped up. “Your daughter?”

  Ginny grinned. “The second to last one you did. She’s my youngest, of four.”

  “Four? You have four kids, but...”

  “Medicine has come a long way,” Ginny said with a smile. “I live a more or less normal life. And Charles is...really hot.”

  Lydia laughed, and then they were both laughing.

  “Yeah, he is,” Lydia agreed. “I could definitely do a tat for you to match your daughter’s.”

  As she looked at Ginny and felt the weight fall away, Lydia was quite sure of a lot of things. She knew her mother wanted this above all else—for her to stop punishing herself for the past—and she couldn’t let regrets hold her back any longer.

  Giving in to the moment, she rushed forward and grabbed Ginny in a tight hug. For a second, it was like they were girls again, with all of their hopes and dreams ahead of them.

  “Will you have some time after, or before you go back? To catch up?”

  “I’ll make time. I’d like nothing more,” Lydia said.

  “I’d better open the booth again, or there might be a revolt,” Lydia said with a grin, releasing her friend. “But first, I think I need to do something.”

  Ginny smiled knowingly. “Something with your sexy new friend?”

  Lydia couldn’t stop the answering grin if she tried. “Yeah. I’ve been running away from everything, including him, and I want to let him know I’m not going to do that anymore.”

  “Good call. He’s the kind of guy you want to let catch you, from what I’ve seen.”

  “He really is.”

  Though doubt must have shown in her face, as Ginny’s hand reached out to give her arm a squeeze.

  “Just let him know what you want. The rest will fall into place as it’s supposed to,” Ginny said wisely, and Lydia nodded, taking a bolstering breath.

  “Let everyone know I’ll be back in a bit, and that you’re first in line,” Lydia said with a grin, heading out the door.

  She dashed in between the barns, and the alleys, but there were so many people it was hard to find Ely in the crowd. Then she noticed a light on up in the bedroom of the house, and smiled.

  Maybe they would be taking a little break after all.

  14

  LYDIA CLIMBED THE stairs, relieved to be out of the rush of the festival and eager to have a few minutes alone with Ely. Nerves were rattling inside her gut, but she was determined to do this before she let any reservations keep her from saying what she had to say.

  “Ely, hey, I need to—” Lydia said, entering but stopping short, finding not Ely, but Kyle in her bedroom.

  He paused, looking up from a knapsack he was filling with something. Money, she realized, her eyes focused on the fat wad of bills in his hand.

  “What are you doing? What’s that?” she asked, trying to process what she was seeing.

  Kyle sighed, glaring at her as if she was a nasty bug he wanted to squash.

  “It’s my retirement, and you’re supposed to be busy outside with the festival.”

  “But where...how...?”

  “None of your damned business. Wh
ere’s loverboy? Meeting you up here for a little slap and tickle?” he asked, sneering.

  He reached into the bag before she could answer, drawing out a gun.

  “Kyle,” she said, backing up and putting her hands up defensively. “I don’t know what this is, but I’m not going to stop you. Just go. Don’t hurt anyone,” she said, her heart hammering.

  “That’s how it would have been if you hadn’t come snooping.”

  Snooping? In her own house?

  “Come here,” he ordered, waving the gun.

  She paused, and he asked again, more emphatically, so she did.

  “Finish packing this, while I keep an eye out. Then we’ll take a nice friendly stroll down to my truck, and you can go back to your life.”

  Lydia wondered if he really meant it, but did as she was told, trying to think frantically about how she could signal someone, anyone, from the window, but there was no way.

  She looked down at the bottom of the guest room closet to find the boards pulled up, the remainder of a large stash of money still hidden inside. She reached down and grabbed two handfuls.

  “How long has this been hidden here?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve been searching for their stash for over a month. I’ve been through every abandoned property and building for five miles, and this was the only place left,” Kyle said in agitation. “I figured it had to be in the house. I had found it the other day when your boyfriend conveniently agreed to get you out of the house for the night, but then Smitty was hanging around late with some of the festival guys, and I couldn’t get it out without someone noticing. I thought tonight would be the perfect distraction, but you’ve been messing this up from the start.”

  Everything clicked in her brain as she packed more of the money into the bag.

  “Gee, so sorry,” she said sarcastically. “You were in the truck...you’ve been harassing me.”

  “I had another guy helping out, you know, just to throw you off the scent, but you don’t scare easily, do you, Lydia?” He looked at her with something between admiration and lust, and she broke eye contact, shuddering.

  “We’ll be gone in a week or so. Why not just wait?” she asked.

  “The money would be gone then, too—the guys who are coming up from South America for it wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in your head to get you out of their way, so consider this your lucky break.”

  “So this isn’t yours?”

  “It is now,” he said with a laugh, and then was quiet as he watched her pack up the rest and zip the bag. “About time I got some payoff for dealing with these sleazebags all these years.”

  Lydia stared. “You’re a cop?” she asked incredulously.

  “Fed, actually. Been undercover here for a while, and when this opportunity came up, I decided it was time.”

  Lydia hoped that if Kyle really was a cop, he would be less inclined to kill her—or maybe it made him more dangerous.

  “What do you mean Ely agreed to get me out of town? He’d never agree to help you.”

  “He thought he was helping me for his D.C. buddies. When he got involved, I knew I had to move fast.”

  Lydia digested that. So Ely had known about Kyle, and he hadn’t told her? And their entire night together in Billings had been arranged so that Kyle could search her house?

  She couldn’t focus on that now, and Kyle seemed done with the conversation, too, as he hauled her up by the arm, closing the closet door.

  “Okay. Now we walk down to my truck, nice and easy. I’ll have to tie you up so you can’t go run and alert anyone too soon, and then I’ll be gone. If you decide to mess with me, or alert anyone, especially your boyfriend or the sheriff, people will get hurt, do you understand?” he asked, jamming the gun into the small of her back.

  “Okay, yeah,” she said, holding her breath and walking out of the room, her mind spinning.

  What if Kyle didn’t keep his word? What if he killed her, and she never got to tell Ely how she felt, or that she wanted to be with him as more than his casual sex partner? To see if they had a future? To find out if he was even interested in a future, she thought, her mind going back to what Kyle had said.

  Maybe she really was just a temporary fling to Ely.

  She wouldn’t cause Kyle to hurt anyone, especially Ely, or any of the kids running around the festival grounds. She was trapped, she thought as they exited through the back door. Kyle had his arm slung around her in a friendly way as they emerged into the crowd, his other hand holding the gun at her side.

  “Just make like we’re two pals, enjoying the festivities.”

  “People will miss me at the booth.”

  “They’ll find you when they come looking.”

  Find her how, exactly, she thought, a chill taking over that had nothing to do with the cold.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Faith, in Steve Granger’s arms, looking like perhaps they had mended a few fences of their own. Lydia wondered if she would ever feel Ely’s arms around her again.

  A few people said hello, and paused to thank her for such a great time, and she smiled briefly, trying not to sound unnatural as she acknowledged their sentiment and kept walking. Kyle was getting nervous, she could tell, the gun poking harder into her side.

  It only took a minute or two to reach the bunkhouse down past the festival area. They were alone.

  At least, even if the worst happened, she’d kept him from hurting anyone else. It was a comfort.

  Kyle dragged her to the storage shed beside the bunkhouse and opened the door. Lydia heard mumbling. Looking into the small, cold space, she saw Roger—Faith’s nephew—also bound and bleeding from his temple. He was shivering visibly, his eyes bleary.

  “What did you do?” Lydia hissed, turning on Kyle. “Why are you picking on a kid?”

  “Watch it,” he said, grabbing her roughly and jerking her arm behind her back, pushing her into the shed where she stumbled and fell down beside Roger. “Roger was my little helper, and I was compensating him nicely for it, until he decided he might rat,” Kyle said, grabbing a rag from his pocket that he intended to stuff into her mouth, as he had done with Roger.

  “Roger was the one helping you harass me? To get me out of the house?”

  “Yeah, until I caught him heading for the sheriff’s office this morning. Caught him just in time,” Kyle said. “Grab a few of those plastic ties there on the shelf—do your ankles, then your hands—behind your back. Good,” he approved her application of the ties and shoved the gun back into his belt, stepping forward with the gag. “Now this will keep you quiet until I’m long gone.”

  Lydia caught a glint of something out of her eye—someone behind Kyle? She wasn’t sure.

  “So who hid the money?”

  “One of the cartel’s local guys. I saw him leaving here one day, and started searching, but never could find it. Then you showed up back in town and began digging through everything.”

  “The people who come after that money are going to know it’s missing, and they’ll come after you,” she tried desperately to keep him talking, keep him there.

  “That’s the best part. They’ll figure you took it, or the kid, or your boyfriend,” he said with a laugh. “And they’ll never find me, honey, because I don’t exist. I’d watch your back from here on in, if I were you.”

  “I think you should do the same,” she said, smiling as she saw Ely appear behind Kyle in the doorway of the shed, shotgun in hand.

  “Yeah, right. Now open wide,” he said maliciously, intending to gag her with an old rag.

  “Touch her again and I’ll drop you where you stand,” Ely said dangerously, and Kyle froze.

  “Ely, he has a gun,” she said as Kyle tried to reach for his weapon, but Ely closed in and hit Kyle hard in the back of the head with the butt of the gun before the man could do anything.

  Steve Granger turned the corner just then, his expression dangerous, his gun drawn, as well. He looked at Kyle moaning on th
e floor of the shed, and holstered his weapon. Taking in Lydia and Roger as Ely disarmed Kyle and gave the forty-five to Steve, the sheriff smirked.

  “Well, hell, I thought I told you to wait,” he said to Ely.

  “Things move fast, Granger. And I really, really wanted to hit this guy,” Ely said, working on Lydia’s and Roger’s restraints as Granger cuffed Kyle and called for an ambulance.

  Within minutes chaos broke out around them, but all Lydia cared about was being in Ely’s arms. She was safe now. People buzzed all around her as the police shut down the festival early and cleared out the crowd, but Lydia hardly noticed.

  She couldn’t seem to stop touching Ely as the police took her report, and the EMTs took Roger off to the hospital. He would be okay, but had come dangerously close to hypothermia.

  “How did you know?”

  “We saw him go in the house. Steve and I were watching from the crowd, waiting for him to come out, but then you went in, and that changed everything.”

  “So you all knew?”

  “I told Steve I found out that he was undercover DEA, and apparently Steve already knew—they were keeping an eye on him, worried that he was dirty. Turns out it was true. I had a feeling if he found something in the house, he was going to try to take off with it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? How could you keep this all from me?” she asked, bewildered by what was happening right under her nose.

  “I needed to play it close. I also couldn’t risk Ian—Kyle—finding out. It would have put you in danger if he thought you knew. Even more so,” he said.

  He’d been protecting her. It was what he did—his job.

  What she really wanted to know was if their night in Billings had just been part of the plan, as Kyle said, or if it had been as special as she thought it was. But that wasn’t fair. She had set the terms of their relationship—keep it casual. She had told him that she didn’t want commitment.

  He had told her he was looking for a fresh start, new adventures, and nothing to tie him down. He hadn’t come out here for her, but at Tessa’s bidding. None of that had changed even though Lydia had a feeling that she had changed significantly.