Blue Sky Cowboy Christmas

by Joanne Kennedy

  Well, “you” wasn’t exactly a name, but Carol sure made it sound like one.

  “Carol. Diane. Oh, my gosh.” In spite of their hostility, she was so relieved to see them, she wanted to hug them—but that probably wouldn’t go well. “Where’s Ed? Is he okay?”

  The Harpies looked at her like most folks looked at cockroaches.

  “Where’s Trevor?” Diane asked.

  “Not my day to watch him,” Riley snapped. Regretting her tone, she eked out a polite smile. “I mean, he’s a grown man, right? He doesn’t have to tell me what he’s up to.”

  “Of course he doesn’t,” Carol said. “But he’d be right here, watching the store, if you hadn’t barged in.”

  “Listen.” Riley didn’t regret her sharp tone anymore. “I found the store closed, so I opened it. I don’t know where Trevor is. I also didn’t know anything about Ed being gone. I still don’t, because nobody thought to call me.”

  “We don’t have to call you,” Carol said.

  “No, you don’t, but it would have been common courtesy.” Riley folded her arms over her chest and stared the women down. She’d been down on herself since she’d been such a mouse leaving Griff Bailey’s and had enough anger simmering from that encounter to take on a dozen Harpies. “Plus, I would have been glad to come and keep the store open. You know, so Ed could pay his bills?”

  “Trevor was doing that.”

  “No, he wasn’t. I got here and the place was dark. The Closed sign was up. Nothing was shoveled, either.” Carol started to speak, no doubt to make excuses for the Only Heir, but Riley held up a hand for silence. “I did all those things, and I’m here, ready to work the way I always do. You haven’t had the courtesy to let me know where Ed is, but that’s okay. I’ll just keep working. If taking care of the store is all I can do for him, it’s what I’ll do, but I’d sure like to see him. Is he okay?”

  The women glanced around the store as if expecting a new and improved Trevor to leap out of the back room to assure them he was doing his grandnephewly duty, but no luck.

  “He will be,” Diane said. “His heart isn’t good, you know.”

  Carol frowned. “It’s probably the drinking.”

  Riley folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Ed doesn’t drink.”

  She remembered the night she’d met these people: the bottle of Jack Daniels that Trevor had helped himself to. The coq au vin with its wine-flavored sauce. Apparently, that had been enough to convince the Harpies that Riley and Ed had been holding one long, drunken hoedown until the sisters had shown up to put a stop to it.

  “Just tell me where he is.” Riley was doing her best to be polite, but anger was stewing in her chest, threatening to burst out. “I went to the hospital in Grigsby as soon as I heard, but I couldn’t find him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.” Carol tossed her head, making her sprayed-in-place hair wobble like Jell-O.

  Diane piled on. “Maybe he’s upset that you abandoned him for that man who came here and left him to run things all by himself.”

  “Ed knew where I was, and he knew I’d come if he called.” Riley kept her voice calm, but she was hanging onto the edge of the counter to keep her hands from shaking. She shouldn’t have gotten so caught up in her fling with Griff Bailey. She should have checked in with Ed sooner. She’d been childish, sulking because he hadn’t stood up for her to these women.

  “Well, while you were off with your boyfriend, our brother was airlifted to Loveland,” Carol said.

  “Oh, no.” Riley couldn’t imagine poor Ed so far from home, sick and alone. Somebody should be with him—preferably her. “Are you going down to see him? Can I go along?”

  “I thought you were going to watch the store. Finally.” Carol said.

  “I am. But I thought you said Trevor was in charge, so I thought—but never mind.” Riley busied herself rearranging the blanks on the key lathe. Thinking of Ed in the hospital had made her eyes tear up, and she didn’t want Carol to see. Like any other predator, the woman would strike at any sign of weakness. “I’ll figure it out, okay? But if you see him, could you just tell him I’m here?”

  She didn’t know how she’d get to see Ed. She might protest when people like Griff made fun of her truck, but the truth was, she didn’t like to drive it too far, especially after its collision with the ditch. The thing had always been rickety, and now its rattles had rattles, and it developed palsy if she took it over forty miles an hour. It would be a hazard on the interstate.

  “What I want to know is where Trevor went.” Carol’s voice had turned high and fretful, reminding Riley she was an old lady, like all the other old ladies Riley knew. An old lady who loved her grandson.

  “Check upstairs,” she suggested.

  “He’s not there. I don’t understand. He was with us in Loveland, and he was heading straight up here to open the store.” Carol lifted a hand to her mouth as if to nibble on a nail, then dropped it to her waist and grasped it tightly. The slight tell made Riley smile. A woman who chewed her nails was at least half-human, right?

  “We’re staying in a hotel near the hospital, but we came to pick up some clothes for Ed and check on Trevor,” Diane said.

  Riley simply smiled and shrugged in an effort to make light of Trevor’s failure, but the women turned and stalked off, and while they didn’t slam Ed’s door, they didn’t say goodbye, either.

  Riley shrugged and went back to straightening the store. She’d give the women time to calm down while she made some sales and showed the good people of Wynott that Boone’s Hardware was here for them. There was a new Home Depot in Grigsby, and she didn’t want people to get in the habit of shopping there.

  She wished her truck was in better shape so she could go down to Loveland, but it was just as well. Ed needed her to keep the store open, so here she would stay. Literally. On a cot in the office.She didn’t have anywhere else to go.

  Chapter 31

  Riley heaved a sigh of relief when the Harpies headed back to Loveland in the morning. Work had always been her salvation, so she puttered around the store, dusting, sweeping, restocking shelves, and ringing up an occasional sale. Nobody mentioned that the store had been closed, so she hoped nobody had noticed. It was getting close to Christmas, and their business always fell off that time of year, although the power tools normally did well.

  Power tools.

  She ought to make a window display, give people some gift ideas.

  Doing the displays was one of her favorite jobs, so the rest of the day flew by. By closing time, she’d posed the Styrofoam snowman with a table saw, cut his carrot nose in half, and placed the cut-off tip on the saw. Giving Mr. Styrofoam a tragic frown, she stepped back and surveyed the effect. It made her laugh, which meant it would make people talk—and that was always the goal of her window displays.

  As she began her closing routine, her thoughts wandered to the ranch—to her cozy blanket and favorite chair, the warm woodstove and the even warmer Griff Bailey—but she couldn’t go back. Griff wasn’t abusive, but he got mad too easily, and Riley couldn’t deal with angry men. That was one reason she wasn’t looking for a relationship; it wasn’t fair to love somebody but not allow them to have negative emotions. Griff was fine for somebody like Fawn, who still believed the best of everyone.

  Glancing up at the clock, Riley saw it was closing time. She thought of her apartment upstairs, so cozy with its slanted ceilings, its cunning dormer windows, and the comfy old sofa she’d trucked home from Grigsby’s Goodwill store. Even the thought of the cramped shower, where she was always banging her elbows, caused a pang of regret. Even though the Harpies had left, it was still their space as long as they stayed. And she was starting to think they planned to stay forever.

  It was her own fault. She should have developed a life plan that went beyond helping Ed and hiding—yes, hiding—in an at
tic apartment for the rest of her life. She needed to find some other option quick, before the Harpies threw her out. If Ed thought it was her choice, he wouldn’t feel so bad about it. He’d helped her when she needed it; now it was time for her to move on so he could help his grandnephew. His real family.

  She counted out the register and made up a bank deposit and balanced everything. As she tucked the bank bag under one arm and locked the big front door, she looked over at the window, where the sad snowman stood regarding his broken nose. It was cute, but she didn’t feel like laughing, because she was a little broken herself. Just over a week ago, she’d been excited about Ed’s sisters coming. Now, she was an orphan again, striking out on her own.

  As she walked to the night deposit, she considered her options. She really didn’t want to sleep in the office again. Maybe she could stay with Sierra for a couple days. Her friend could always use a hand with the foster kids at Phoenix House, and Riley was betting the part-timers there would be glad to get some time off before the holidays.

  She dropped off the deposit, then crossed the street to Phoenix House. Sierra answered the door looking frazzled. Behind her, Riley heard a boy shout, “Bring on the Exploding Kittens!” The shout drew a massive cheer from what sounded like a crowd.

  “You’re not really letting them play Exploding Kittens, are you?”

  Sierra looked abashed. “It’s a G-rated version.”

  Another shout rose from the lounge.

  “I thought you only had six kids right now,” Riley said, grinning. “It sounds like a hundred.”

  “They have friends,” Sierra said. “Jeffrey’s staying the night. Isaiah, too, and a couple other kids from school.”

  “Sounds like they’re doing okay.”

  Sierra beamed. Phoenix House was a last-chance foster home for kids who’d run through all their other options. The boys, aged mostly eight to twelve, had been moved from one foster family to another without success. Sometimes they ran away; other times they were tossed back into the system for being “too difficult,” “too troubled,” or simply “too loud.”

  For Sierra, no child was ever too difficult or troubled. Though she privately admitted that “loud” drove her crazy, Riley knew her friend worried about the boys fitting in. The school system in Grigsby had been welcoming and flexible, but the small-town kids had sensed these boys were different. For a long time, the Phoenix House kids had stuck together as a unit to defend themselves, making the situation worse, but judging from the racket in the lounge, they’d found their place in Wynott.

  “What’s going on with you?” Sierra asked as Riley followed her into her office. It was a tiny room the size of a closet, but it muffled the shouts of the boys enough that she and Sierra could carry on a conversation.

  “Too much.” Riley had already told Sierra about Ed’s sisters. Now she explained Ed’s illness, Trevor’s issues, and the challenge of keeping the store going while Ed was in the hospital.

  “But you’re staying out at the Bailey place, right? How’s that going?” Sierra waggled her eyebrows suggestively. She knew Riley had a crush on Griff before he left for the military, but she didn’t know what had happened since.

  Riley caught her up, sparing nothing. When she explained what had happened when she’d left—how he’d gripped her arms, shaken her, shoved her—Sierra’s eyes grew wide.

  “You can’t stay there,” she said.

  “Oh, I know it.” Riley sighed. “The trouble is, that leaves me sleeping in Ed’s office on a cot. Which is fine.” She lifted a hand to stop Sierra’s protests. “Except I don’t really want to share the kitchen with Carol and Diane, let alone the bathroom.”

  “You can stay here,” Sierra said. “The back bedroom’s open.”

  Riley’s heart warmed. Sierra was basically the mother of a pack of difficult, lost boys, at least half a dozen but sometimes more, and yet she was always there for Riley. As a junior in high school, Sierra had been assigned to middle-school Riley as a mentor, and she’d had a lot to do with Riley’s recovery. When things had gotten difficult down in Denver, Riley had followed Sierra to Wynott, and the rest was history.

  She might not have a home right now, but she was still better off than she’d been. She needed to remember that.

  “I was thinking I could watch the boys some nights. Or days,” Riley said. “Whatever you need. Your part-timers might want some time off around Christmas, and I could help.”

  “You sure can,” Sierra said. “Plus the Christmas party at the Dawg is tomorrow night, and we have an open spot at our table. I thought you might be going with Griff, but…”

  “I’m definitely not doing that,” Riley said. She tossed her head like it didn’t bother her, but her heart was aching.

  Sierra’s all-seeing eyes narrowed. “You miss him.”

  “Sort of.” Riley sighed. “I care about him. A lot. But I know he’s too much for me to deal with. It’s just… My mind keeps scrambling for excuses, trying to justify the way he acted. I can’t shut it down.”

  “Well, the party’ll take your mind off it.”

  “I’m not really in a mood for social stuff,” Riley said. “I’d rather stay here and watch the boys.”

  “They’re going, too,” Sierra reminded her. “Plus my husband was asking about you just the other day. He said he misses seeing you, and you know Ridge never says anything he doesn’t mean.”

  Riley had to smile at that. Sierra’s husband never wasted a word, so his compliments were high praise.

  “Besides, you know as well as I do that when life gets stressful, you have to be vigilant.” Sierra touched Riley’s arm, her eyes wide with concern. “If anyone has ever fully recovered from addiction, that would be you, but you know the danger’s always there. And with everything in upheaval…”

  “I should go to a crowded bar and drink beer?”

  “You should fill your time with friends and community. You know how much that helps. Plus Santa will be there. You know who it is this year?”

  Riley shook her head.

  Sierra glanced around as if the walls had ears. “Brady Caine,” she whispered.

  Riley laughed. Brady Caine was Sierra’s brother-in-law, a larger-than-life rodeo star who had found fame endorsing western wear and riding gear before he’d buckled down to business—literally—and ridden his way to the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas. He’d settled down after marrying a champion barrel racer, but he hadn’t lost his rowdy, boyish heart. That made him a favorite with the Phoenix House kids.

  “Maybe they’ll find some bucking reindeer somewhere,” Riley said.

  Sierra laughed. “You won’t want to miss it.”

  Riley smiled. Sierra was right; she needed to keep busy. But she was sure Griff would be at the party, probably with Fawn at his side. And even though she was sure he wasn’t the man for her, even though she’d entered into their relationship for the sole purpose of turning him over to Fawn once he was “tamed,” she wasn’t sure she could stand to watch the two of them together as their perfect, storied romance lit up the town of Wynott with love and holiday cheer.

  Sierra was a good friend, yet Riley had never felt so alone. She’d felt that way a lot back in the bad old days, and loneliness had led her down a dangerous path. This time, she’d have to find a new way to cope.

  Chapter 32

  Saturday morning, Griff decided he was done with video games. He wanted something real, and there was no better place to find it than the riding arena that adjoined the barn. He wanted the blue sky overhead, the cold air in his lungs, and a horse’s muscles shifting beneath him. Leaving Bruce on the porch, he headed for the horses.

  They clearly hadn’t been ridden in a while. Thanks no doubt to Cade Walker’s training skills, most were well behaved, but not every ride went smoothly, which was just as well. Griff had to wipe away his memories and fears so he coul
d watch each horse’s ears for signs of rebellion and catch every quick flick of its heels, every sideways crow-hop or rebellious toss of the head. There was no time for his mind to run in circles around Riley James.

  He looped the horses in circles and figure eights, finding their strong points and weaknesses. It was as fine a string of cow horses as his father had ever had, and again he wondered. All these horses. All those bathrooms. Yet a small herd of cows that looked strictly ornamental. What was Heck Bailey up to?

  He shook away the thought. What his dad did with the ranch had nothing to do with him. He might be enjoying the cowboy life a lot more than he’d expected, but he’d left abruptly, barely saying a word to his dad. It would be a long time, if ever, before the two of them could carry on a civil conversation, let alone work together.

  As a matter of fact, Griff wondered why his mind was even heading in that direction. Up to now, his whole life had been about escaping his father’s control. Hadn’t it been his father’s demands that had sent Griff’s mother, Dot, into the arms of another man? She’d explained it all the first time teenage Griff, wounded by her seeming abandonment, had visited her at her new husband’s swanky log home up in Montana. She’d told him how Heck wouldn’t listen to her, wouldn’t see things her way. She’d said she’d hated being a rancher’s wife. Now that he looked back on it, Griff realized that was about the time he’d resolved never to take over the place and to escape as fast as he could.

  Yet his mind was like a barn-sour horse, always hightailing it for home. Once he finished grooming his last ride and sent it back to its herdmates in the snowy pasture, he discovered aches in muscles he’d forgotten existed—but he felt better somehow. He’d had to clear his mind for the sake of the horses, and to his surprise, it hadn’t been that hard to forget the past and live in the moment—mostly.

  He’d managed to push away thoughts of his men, the explosion, and his time in the hospital, but Riley had taken their place as his new obsession. He’d gone from searching his memories of the explosion for something he could have done to change the course of events to reliving his last conversation with Riley and wishing he could find a road to forgiveness.