Authors: Janet Dailey
“For heaven’s sake, it’s freezing out here!” Muriel pulled her woolen afghan tighter around her shoulders. “Come on inside. There’s hot cocoa on the stove.”
She ushered the children back inside. Henry followed, closing the door and leaving Kylie and Shane alone on the back porch.
Kylie looked up at him, ignoring the slight tremor that rippled all the way to her toes. The faint moonlight, reflecting on the snow, cast his eyes in shadow and highlighted the chiseled planes of his face. The urge to stretch on tiptoe and kiss those gorgeous lips again was almost too powerful to resist. But resist she did.
“Are you coming in?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s getting late. I’ll be heading home to a hot shower and a soft bed.”
The mental image conjured by his words triggered a flush of heat to her face. Kylie tried the old trick of imagining an eraser wiping out the pictures in her head. It didn’t work.
“I hope you know how grateful I am,” she said. “Without you, I would never have known where to find Hunter.”
“No need to thank me,” he said. “Hunter’s a good kid. I was concerned about him, too. I just hope he’s learned a few lessons.”
“Anyway . . .” She hesitated, expecting him to turn and go. Was he waiting for her to say something about the kiss, or even for some sign that he should kiss her again? “About what happened—”
“I know. It was nothing. A weak moment that’s best forgotten.”
The back door creaked open again. Muriel stood framed by light from the kitchen. “Are you two coming in? I’ve poured the cocoa, and it’s getting cold.”
“I was about to leave,” Shane said.
“Nonsense, Cowboy. You’ve got time for a hot mug. It’ll warm your belly for the drive home.”
Still, he hesitated. “I’d—”
“Oh, come on in,” Muriel said. “The mugs are on the table. I even squirted whipped cream on top.”
“Can’t say no to that.” Shane surrendered, holding the door for Kylie as they followed Muriel into the kitchen, where the others were already seated. The chocolate was hot and sweet. The cream made white mustaches on the children’s upper lips. Looking at each other across the table, they giggled.
“So I guess all’s well that ends well,” Muriel said.
“Not quite, I’m afraid.” Kylie held up her left hand. “I’ve lost my ring. I hope you’ll all keep your eyes open for it.”
“Oh, dear,” Muriel said. “Of course we will.”
“Does that mean you’re not married to Daddy anymore?” Amy asked.
An awkward silence hung over the table. Kylie felt Shane’s eyes on her.
“All it means is that the ring’s not on my finger,” she said. “Maybe tomorrow you can help me look for it, Amy.”
Henry emptied his mug and rose from his chair. “I’ll be turning in,” he said. “There’s a good college game on TV. It should be starting about now. Thanks for the cocoa, Muriel. That was right nice of you.” With a good-night nod to the others, he ambled out the back door.
Kylie glanced at her children. Amy looked tired. Hunter was yawning. “Time for bed, both of you,” she said. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth. Hunter, before you get ready for bed, I want a word with you—upstairs.”
Hunter’s expression told her he knew what was coming. He’d broken rules and would have to face the consequences. He rose from his seat and slunk toward the stairs.
“I’ll be going, too,” Shane said, rising. “Thanks for the cocoa, Muriel.”
“Wait, Cowboy.” Muriel’s voice stopped him. “Stay a minute and talk with an old woman. I have something to get off my chest. Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”
As Kylie left the kitchen and followed her son upstairs, Shane took his seat again. Muriel looked serious. What was on her mind?
He was about to find out.
Chapter Nine
“W
hat’s up, Muriel?” Shane studied his longtime neighbor across the table. He’d known Muriel Summerfield since his boyhood. They’d shared years of casual conversation, but this was the first time in memory she’d asked him to sit down for a serious talk. “Is something wrong?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” She gave him a smile. “This isn’t about me, Cowboy. It’s about you.”
“About
me
?” A prickle of apprehension crawled up Shane’s backbone.
“About you and that lady who just left us.”
Shane stifled a groan. He should’ve guessed what the woman was up to. “Whoa! Kylie and I are just friends, if that’s what you’re getting at.” It was a bald-faced lie if he’d ever heard one. His relationship with Kylie could hardly be called “friendly.” Throw in that kiss, and their connection was more like a lightning storm.
Muriel leaned closer across the table, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Listen, I’m getting too old to waste time beating around the bush. I know you’re planning to sell and leave. But if you’re looking for what’s missing in your life, maybe you should stop and look around. Right here, you’ve got a woman, who lights you up like a Christmas tree, and two wonderful kids, who need a father. You’ve been lonesome all your life, Cowboy. If you hit the road on your bike, you’ll go on being lonesome, maybe for the rest of your life. But it doesn’t have to be that way. You could have it all. You could have a real family.”
Shane shook his head. “You’re jumping the gun, Muriel. Even if I agreed with you—and I’m not saying I do—the lady’s still wearing her wedding ring—or, at least, she’s searching for it. She’s still married to her late husband. I can’t compete with a dead war hero.”
“Horsefeathers! I’ve noticed the way she looks at you. She may be fighting the attraction, but a little encouragement from you could win her over.”
“What if I were to win her over, along with the kids, and then still decide to leave? Sorry, Muriel, I know you mean well. But when I hit the road, I want a clean getaway with no emotional baggage left behind.”
Muriel’s mouth formed a girlish pout. “Promise me you’ll at least keep an open mind. All right?”
Shane stood. “I’m not in a position to promise anything. Helen’s found a prospective buyer for the ranch, a couple from up north. They’re coming to look at the place after the holidays. If they take it, I’ll be out of here early.”
Muriel sighed. “Well, at least that gives you a little time. Think it over, Cowboy. You may be riding away from your one chance at happiness.”
He gave her a scowl. She only smiled. “Yes, I know I’m an old busybody, sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. But I think the world of Kylie and those young ones—and I think the world of you. To see all of you together as a family would give me a happy old age.”
Lord, but this woman knows how to twist that guilt knife
.
“Put it out of your mind, Muriel,” he said. “I could give you a whole list of reasons why it wouldn’t work. But it’s getting late, so I’m going to leave before I start on them. Good night, and thanks again for the cocoa. Tell Henry I’ll be back tomorrow to work on the bike.”
With that, he headed out the back door.
Kylie returned to the kitchen to find Muriel alone at the table. “Where’s Shane?” she asked. “I wanted to pass on Hunter’s thanks for finding him.”
“He just walked out,” Muriel said. “You might be able to catch him. Either way, he’ll be back tomorrow to work on the bike.”
As Kylie hurried out onto the porch, she heard the slam of the truck door and the growl of the starting engine. An instant later, Shane’s pickup rolled down the snowy drive toward the gate. She paused, her spirits sinking. Foolish as the idea was, she’d looked forward to thanking him again and seeing him off. But she was too late. She’d missed him.
Not that it should matter. Muriel had said he was coming back. Hunter could thank him in person tomorrow.
Tomorrow!
Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve with no tree and no presents. Nothing but the same old Christmas music on the radio and the lame Christmas reruns on TV.
Kylie watched the red taillights vanish down the road. She’d had such wonderful plans for this holiday. But they’d all gone as flat as punctured party balloons. She was running out of options. And she had no one to blame but herself.
December 24
The sky was pink with winter sunrise when the delivery van came rolling through the gate. Kylie and her children were sharing Muriel’s favorite breakfast of hot oatmeal with cream and brown sugar. Through the kitchen window, Amy spotted the big brown vehicle. With a squeal, she jumped out of her chair and dashed for the front door. Kylie and Hunter rushed after her.
The three of them were standing on the front steps when the driver came up the shoveled walk, carrying a cardboard box large enough to hide his upper body from sight. Was it the Christmas presents or the warm winter clothes she’d ordered? Either one would be welcome, but she knew what her children were hoping for.
“Here you go. Merry Christmas.” The driver set the box down on the porch. Kylie glanced at the label. It was from the online store where she’d ordered their coats, gloves, and boots—not the presents.
“I was expecting two boxes,” she said. “Is there another one for us in your van?”
The driver shook his head. “Sorry. It’s probably in a different shipment. But don’t give up. We’re doing our best to get everything delivered by Christmas.”
As he hurried back to the van, Kylie turned to her downcast children. “Hey, don’t look so sad! You have new, warm winter clothes! Amy, now you can play in the snow. Hunter, you don’t have to wear that old plaid coat anymore. And our presents may still get here in time.”
Amy managed a smile. “Let’s go in and open the box. At least we’ll be opening something.”
“Good idea.” Kylie reached for the box, but Hunter grabbed it, hoisted it to his shoulder, and carried it inside. Last night they’d discussed his punishment for running away and causing so much worry. Grounding him seemed useless, since he was already pretty much confined to the farm. But he’d lost his phone privileges for a week. To his credit, he hadn’t argued or whined about it. Her son was growing up.
“Leave the box by the sofa, Hunter,” she said. “We’ll need to finish breakfast before we open it.”
“Aw, Mom, it’ll only take a minute.”
“It’ll keep. Finish your breakfast before it gets cold. After the table’s cleared, we’ll open the box.”
The meal was finished and the table cleared in record time. Then Hunter and Amy tore into the box. The children had picked out their own winter clothes online, so there were no surprises. Still, they were excited to have something new. The puffy, hooded coats were quilted with synthetic down fill; Amy’s was deep rose, Hunter’s navy blue. The sturdy boots were lined with warm fleece. The gloves were wool.
Kylie’s coat was emerald green, a color that flattered her fair hair and complexion. “Now I can stop borrowing your coat, Aunt Muriel,” she said, pirouetting to show it off.
“It’s lovely, dear.” Muriel began running water on the breakfast dishes.
“No, you don’t!” Kylie pulled off the coat and flew to the sink to nudge her aside. “You cooked breakfast. I’ll do the dishes. Just sit down and keep me company.”
“Well, if you insist.” Muriel took a seat at the table as Hunter and Amy, already dressed in their warm winter outfits, dashed out the back door to play in the snow. Kylie added a squirt of detergent to the warm water and began washing the dishes.
“You haven’t found your ring yet?” Muriel asked.
“No, and I’ve looked everywhere.”
“So have I, dear. This morning before you came down to breakfast, I searched every inch of the kitchen. When I see Henry, I’ll ask him to take the drain apart, in case it’s fallen down there.”
“I’m so sorry for the trouble,” Kylie said. “My big worry is that I lost the ring outside in the snow.”
“Well, dear, sooner or later, the snow will melt.”
“That’s just what Shane said.”
Muriel sat in silence for a moment. A ray of morning light filtered through the window to gleam on her soft silver hair. “Did you ever stop to think that you might have lost your ring for a reason?” she asked.
Kylie turned to stare at her. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Somebody needs to say this, Kylie. You’ve been a widow for nineteen months, and your husband had been gone for nearly a year when you lost him. Maybe the disappearance of your ring is a sign.”
“A sign?”
“A sign that it’s time to move on.”
Something tightened in Kylie’s throat. Muriel was a wise woman, but she’d never married. What did she know about love and loss? “Move on? But what is there to move on to, Aunt Muriel?”
“You’re still young and pretty, and you have so much to give. There’s a new life waiting for you out there. All you need is to open yourself to it.”
Kylie shook her head and went back to washing the dishes. How could she just walk away from her vows and memories? How could she let go of the past when, apart from her children, the past was all she had?
“What about you, Aunt Muriel?” she said, deliberately changing the subject. “When Amy asked you why you never married, you said the right man never asked you. So I’m wondering,
was
there a right man?”