When she stepped into the kitchen, Molly turned to her and smiled. Riley smiled back, and there it was, warm and bright as a string of twinkle lights—the magic. It had always been there, even on the worst of Riley’s many disastrous Christmases. Always, there’d be a moment of warmth when she could remember. It made her think of the carol about the “merry gentlemen”: Let nothing you dismay.
On this day, she would let nothing dismay her. Even if she only got a moment, just a ragged scrap of Christmas, it still made life silvery, magical, and full of promise.
Molly had outdone herself with breakfast, creating a delicious sausage-and-potato casserole to go with eggs, French toast, and her famous cinnamon rolls. Once breakfast was done, the family opened gifts. Mostly they were little things, many of them jokes, like the Christmas tie Jess got for Heck. The man hadn’t worn a tie in ten years, but apparently Jess always got him one. This one had Santa in a cowboy hat riding a bucking reindeer.
Even Bruce got presents—a great big bone to chew and a big, fluffy bed they’d set by the fire. He looked happy, gnawing his bone and enjoying his warm bed.
They’d gotten through all the packages and were laughing over a sexy apron Heck had given Molly when Griff stood up and fished a tiny beribboned box from the branches of the tree. A hush fell over the room as he presented it to Riley. It was small, square, wrapped in silver paper and decorated with a beautiful red-plaid ribbon, shot through with silver threads. If she didn’t know better—if she hadn’t discouraged Griff at every turn from planning any sort of future for them—she’d have thought it was a ring.
Maybe it is.
Her heart danced, but she reminded it that a ring wouldn’t be good news. It would force her to break Griff’s heart again by telling him no, and that would ruin his Christmas, and probably everyone else’s too. Especially hers, because she wanted Griff so much that… Well, she wouldn’t think about how much.
“Okay, Heck and I had better do the dishes,” Molly said.
“What?” Heck looked up from his chair. “Why? I want to see…”
Molly made a “scoot” motion with her hands. “Come on, old man, let’s go.”
“I should help.” Riley hopped to her feet.
“No, honey, Heck and I are looking forward to doing dishes in a full-sized kitchen, aren’t we?”
Riley didn’t know why. She’d had a tour of their fifth-wheel trailer, and its kitchen, with its shiny stainless-steel appliances, definitely outranked the aging ranch-house kitchen’s seventies-era harvest-gold range and avocado refrigerator. The RV even had a dishwasher. The ranch kitchen was still stuck in the hand-wash era.
“You wash, I’ll dry,” Heck said.
Molly laughed. “And then you’ll hide the dishes in all the wrong places so I can play treasure hunt the next time I cook.”
Heck looked a bit hurt, then grinned. “It’s a time-honored tradition.”
Jess rose, too. “Tell you what. I’ll try to pay attention, so I can tell you where he put them.”
Cade was still sitting on the sofa, tracing the tooling on a new pair of boots Heck had given him. Riley didn’t blame him for losing himself in admiration of the fine leatherwork, but Jess kicked his foot, jerking her head toward the kitchen.
“What?” He looked up as if she’d caught him sleepwalking. “Oh. I-I’d better go out there, too, because…” He looked helplessly at Jess for a hint, but she just jerked her head again. “Because Jess wants me to.”
“Reason enough,” Griff said.
“Seriously, I can help, too,” Riley said. “I’ll put away the cookies.”
“Don’t you dare.” Griff grabbed a gingerbread man and bit off the head. “I’m still eating them. Besides,” he said, his voice muffled by the cookie, “you have to open your gift.”
As the others left the room, she stared at the package. She was about to tear the paper when Griff reached out and clasped her hand, box and all, in one big hand.
“I need to tell you something before you open that.”
Chapter 53
Griff opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when someone pounded loudly on the front door.
“Company?” He groaned. “On Christmas morning?”
Bruce looked up from his bone and growled softly.
“I should get that,” Riley said, but he grabbed her wrist as she tried to flee.
“There are how many people in the kitchen?” He lowered his brows, puzzled. “I thought you liked presents.”
“I like Christmas,” she said. “But getting presents—it’s kind of embarrassing.”
He started to speak, but then Heck let out a grunt of surprise, and all hell broke loose.
Griff wondered if Santa had brought a sack full of cats and they were fighting in the foyer—fighting to the approximate tune of “Joy to the World.” The caterwauling set his teeth on edge. Heck emerged from the kitchen, plugging his ears—and Molly had just told Griff he was getting hard of hearing. Bruce had retreated, leaving his warm bed to cower behind the stove, his bone clutched in his jaws.
Jess shouted above the yowling, sounding confused.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re caroling,” said a pair of familiar voices.
The sound was like fingernails raking down a blackboard. Griff had already heard those voices too many times, and he’d vowed Riley would never have to hear them again if he had his way.
But for some reason, Carol and Diane had pursued her all the way to the Diamond Jack, no doubt in order to torture her some more.
Chapter 54
Riley’s heart dropped down into her socks. She couldn’t imagine why Carol and Diane would come all the way to the Bailey ranch to sing Christmas carols unless they’d decided to blame her for Trevor’s troubles after all, and this was a sneaky way to get inside and ruin her Christmas.
She headed for the hallway, hoping she hadn’t brought chaos to the Bailey family and spoiled their Christmas, too.
The women launched into another song as she approached. Riley wasn’t sure, but it sounded like “Away in a Manger,” if the ox and ass were singing it themselves.
Griff stood stolidly in the hallway with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, wearing a frown that would have chased ordinary mortals from the door in seconds. The Harpies were oblivious, though, so Riley figured they must be really determined to crash the party.
As soon as the song ended, Molly asked if they wanted to come in.
“Oh, no,” said Carol. “We’re just going around the neighborhood, caroling.”
“What neighborhood?” Griff asked.
Riley knew he was trying to stand up for her, but being hostile wasn’t going to help. She was about to offer the ladies some gingerbread men when she noticed two more figures coming up the walk and squealed, hitting a higher note than either of the Harpies had managed—and that was saying something.
“Trevor,” she said. “And Ed!” She just about knocked the women over rushing to greet her buddy, her best friend, her dad. The Baileys were a hugging kind of family, but she’d still been longing for one of Ed’s special Christmas hugs all morning. That had been the gift she’d always treasured most, no matter what presents he’d given her. Ed made her feel like family, and that was better than any power tool invented. Which, for Riley, was really saying something.
“Riley, honey.” He hugged her all right, but it was disappointing. Kind of hasty, like he was hoping the Harpies wouldn’t notice. “Carol? Diane? What are you two doing?”
“Caroling,” Diane said, but she looked down at the floor like a sulky child.
Ed suddenly channeled Dirty Harry again. “That’s not what we came here for, and you know it.”
Riley had never heard Ed speak to anyone like that. Not even Darrell had merited that sort of scorn. The ladies shuffled around, looking cowed.
>
“Go on,” Ed said. He reminded Riley of a really mean teacher she’d had in sixth grade. “Say what you came to say.”
The women glanced at each other, then fidgeted some more.
“You say it,” Carol muttered.
“No, you,” said Diane.
“Why don’t you both say it.” Ed waved his fingers like an orchestra conductor. “One, two, three.”
“We’re sorry,” the sisters said, squawking the words in unison.
“Sorry, who?”
Riley couldn’t believe the change in Ed. He seemed taller and was carrying himself with an almost martial air—shoulders back, chin down, eyes flashing with anger.
“Sorry, Riley,” said Diane.
“Yes, Riley. We’re sorry,” Carol echoed.
“We were wrong about you,” said Diane. “We realize now what a good person you are.”
“The best,” Carol said. “Because it’s a lot harder when you have so much to overcome.”
Diane frowned. “You make it sound like she had some sort of character deficit or something. But she’s a fine person, deep down, to have come so far in life.”
Riley stared at them, openmouthed. Was Diane actually fighting for her? She turned to Ed.
“What did you do? Pay them?” she asked.
“Nobody paid us.” Diane laced her fingers together, posing like a top Sunday School student trying to get her way. “We’re just telling you how we feel. We were wrong, Riley.”
Ed poked her in the back. “And?”
“And we heard you were thinking of leaving, but we wanted to ask you to please stay and help Trevor,” said Carol. “He told us how much you’ve done for him already.”
“And we need you at the store,” said Diane.
“Trevor can bunk with me,” Ed said, “and you can have your apartment back.”
“Oh.” Riley thought for a moment. She thought about how these two women had come into her home and chased her out of it. She thought about how they’d never come to help Ed, not even when Ruth died, but now they wanted the store for Trevor. She thought about how rude they’d been and how they were only being nice because they needed her.
She thought about telling them to get lost, but then she looked at them, and they were just two old ladies. Not Harpies—just sad old ladies who’d been disillusioned by the boy they loved like a son. And they needed her.
“Of course I’ll help.”
She was relieved when Molly appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Come on in, everyone,” Griff’s stepmother said. “Riley and I made cookies, and we have eggnog.” She beamed. “It’s just wonderful to have carolers clear out here.”
The women entered, followed by Ed, followed by an almost unrecognizable Trevor. The Only Heir had taken a shower and cleaned up. Dressed in clean jeans and a shirt he must have borrowed from Ed, he looked like what he was—a young man visiting family for the holidays.
Molly bustled around, pouring eggnog and plating cookies. Riley moved in to help her but was shushed away.
“Go sit with your family,” Molly said. “I was hoping you and Ed could get together today, and now isn’t this nice.”
Amazingly, it was. She was a little curious about Griff’s gift, but then again, she was amused by his frustration. He kept flashing meaningful looks her way—looks that made the butterflies dance.
Quelling the butterflies, she headed for the living room to sit beside the man who’d been a father to her for so many years. When Molly set two pitchers of eggnog, she started to reach for one, but Griff was already filling up a glass mug for her and one for Trevor from a different pitcher. So she handed her pitcher to Carol and Diane, who served themselves brimming cups full. Griff poured another cup for Ed, and everyone lifted their mugs in the air.
“To Riley,” Ed said. “The heart of our family.”
“To Riley,” chimed the sisters.
Tears sprang to Riley’s eyes as they clinked their mugs together. Kind smiles transformed the Harpies into humans. They looked grandmotherly now, like nice old ladies instead of—well, instead of Harpies.
“Oh, this is good,” Carol said.
“Really good.” Diane drained her mug and held it out for more. “What’s your secret ingredient, Mrs. Bailey?”
Molly smiled. “It wouldn’t be a secret ingredient anymore if I told you what it was.”
Riley didn’t really like eggnog, and she wasn’t sure any secret ingredient would change her mind. It seemed kind of bland, actually, but she drank hers to be polite. The talk turned to the new year and some ideas Trevor had for the store—good ideas, Riley thought. She’d finally found the Christmas she’d dreamed of when she’d first heard Ed’s sisters were coming.
Trevor caught her eye and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I know what the secret ingredient is.”
“Really?” Riley wasn’t sure Trevor was any sort of eggnog expert, but she humored him. “What?”
“Booze,” he said. “That’s why Griff poured ours from that other pitcher, I think. My grandmas always get red noses when they drink, and look.”
The two did have a Rudolphian flush. Riley didn’t believe in slipping drinks to folks who disapproved of alcohol, but the sisters seemed to be having an excellent time, and she didn’t want to spoil their fun.
Once everyone finished their eggnog, Ed and the Harpies got up to go. Riley saw them to the door and was stunned when both sisters hugged her goodbye. She stood in the doorway, watching them pile into Ed’s truck, and hugged herself, holding the most surprising gift of all—the warmth of unexpected understanding and forgiveness.
Could there be a better Christmas present?
Chapter 55
When Ed’s taillights had disappeared into the night, Riley turned to find Griff leaning on the newel post and holding a familiar-looking silver box. The rest of the Baileys had once again escaped to the kitchen.
“Open it,” he said.
Riley took the box and carefully unwrapped it without tearing the pretty silver paper. Inside was a velvet box with a hinged lid. Huh. If she didn’t know better…but surely Griff did. She’d made things very clear.
It wasn’t until she opened it and saw the beautiful, old-fashioned filigree setting with its sparkling diamond that she realized it was. It really was. And it wasn’t until she looked up at Griff’s face and saw the tenderness there and the hope that she realized how much she wanted this ring. How much she wanted to say yes.
“I didn’t expect this.”
Suddenly, he was kneeling right in front of her, and he took the ring in one hand and looked up in her face, and oh, she could get lost in those eyes. But they were different this morning. Where before she’d seen a darkness in their depths, the darkness of his past, his tortured memories, today they looked warm and loving. What she saw there was a future—one she could reach out and take if she only dared.
“Riley.” His eyes were fixed on her with so much intensity she had to look down at the sparkling ring, because their tenderness overwhelmed her. “You told me how you like renovating old houses—how you peeled away the layers and found their… What was it you said? Their heart?”
She nodded.
“Well, that’s what you did for me. When I came back, I wasn’t sure I had a heart left to give, but you found it, and you made me want a new kind of life. I let go of the need for a do-over. I learned to forgive myself and found my real purpose.” He paused, his chest heaving, and she realized how hard it was for him to express himself like this, to dig out these emotions and hand them to her.
“Remember how we were talking about happily-ever-after, and I said it only works the last, best time?” he asked. “Well, last night—that was the last, best time for me. And if you don’t say yes, nothing will ever beat it. I’ll never get my happily-ever-after if it’s not with you.” He took a deep br
eath. “I love you, Riley James. I want to marry you. I want us to have a home and a family and a normal, happy life in Wynott. Is that so hard?”
She looked down at the ring, dazzled and confused. It didn’t sound hard. Why had she thought it was? Her mind scrambled for her reasons. The Harpies? They’d obviously come to terms with her place in Ed’s life. And if they could forgive her, surely anyone could.
Then again, she wasn’t sure that mattered, because the man she loved was smiling at her with so much love it made her dizzy.
“Come on, Riley,” he said. “Take a chance.”
The words reminded her of something Sierra said once: Leap and the net will appear.
She’d made a lot of leaps in her life, and the net had always appeared. One had been following Sierra to Wynott. The next had been to jump in and help Ed and Ruth when they needed her. Those leaps had worked out. Why not this one?
She looked down at the diamond sparkling in the lights from the tree. That diamond had a lot to say. Its sparkle reminded her of Christmas lights, and when she looked up at Griff’s eyes, there was a sparkle there, too, one that said he was happy, truly happy. Her grim, haunted soldier had found his place in the world, and that was what she wanted most. He’d still have those dreams, but he was staying, letting Wynott heal him the way it had healed her.
Maybe she could help, not hinder. Maybe this was the start of her outrunning her past. She’d thought the Harpies were proof some people would never forgive her, but the warmth of their goodbye still lingered, and she felt like she really was an elf, newly risen on Christmas morning. And she was done punishing herself for the past.
Maybe magic did last, after all.
With a tearful mew that was kind of embarrassing, she reached for Griff, and he rose to sit beside her and wrap her in his strong arms. Resting her head against his chest, she nodded, just the slightest bit. When he kissed the top of her head, she knew he’d heard her say yes.
Blue Sky Cowboy Christmas Page 30
