3.5 Roasted in Christmas River (7 page)

Daniel looked over at me, forcing a smile.

“It’ll be okay, Cin,” he said. “I’ll go talk to the Drutmans tomorrow. We’ll figure out something. You trust me?”

I bit my lip, then nodded.

“But for now, let’s focus on what’s immediately in front of us,” he said. “And that’s surviving one whole week with Warren under our roof.”

He grinned devilishly in the dim light coming from the stereo. I punched him lightly in the arm. He pretended like it hurt, rubbing his shoulder.

“Hey, that was uncalled for,” he said, still smiling.

“Well, that’s what you get for talking nonsense about my grandfather.”

We both laughed.

Daniel liked Warren as much as I did. He was just trying to lighten the mood.

And it seemed to do the job. Despite the icy road ahead of us, and the dark night all around us, the feeling in the car the rest of the way to the airport was one of eager and happy anticipation.

It was going to be so good to have the old man back home.

Chapter 17

I saw his shiny bald head in the crowd of tired-looking, stone-faced passengers from a mile away.

I tried to restrain myself, but within a moment, I found that my heart had run roughshod over my brain.

Like a kid on the last day of school, I started running, weaving my way through the oncoming river of the recently arrived, dodging large suitcases and duffle bags, my eyes fixed dead ahead on the old man.

It had only been a few months since I’d seen him. But to me, it had felt like a heck of a lot longer.

At the beginning of this year, Warren had boarded a plane to Scotland with a couple of his friends to go study beer in the old country for 12 months. His study abroad adventure had come as somewhat of a shock. He’d never lived anywhere else but Christmas River, and he was awfully old to be embarking on an adventure that was more suited to a college student. I was proud of him for having the courage to do something that big and to follow his dreams.

But I’d missed him terribly since he left.

“Grandpa!” I shouted, throwing my arms around him and squeezing him hard.

I think I might have squeezed him too hard because he started coughing a little. After a few moments, I slapped him on the back and pulled away.

I was making a bit of a spectacle, and I could feel the eyes of the exhausted and ornery passengers on us, but I didn’t care.

Warren coughed some more.

“Cinny Bee, I think you might have knocked the breath right out of your old grandfather,” he said.

He was grinning when he said it, though.

For the first time, I noticed the woman at his side.

She was in her early to mid-60s with long, dark brown wavy hair. She had clear, deep-set green eyes, full lips, and a nose that turned up just a little bit at the tip.

I recognized her as the pretty lady from the photo Warren had been carrying around in his wallet the last time he visited.

“You must be Aileen,” I said, turning my attention to her.

She nodded, a little nervously.

She had a warm and youthful smile.

“And you must be the granddaughter I’ve heard so much about,” she said, her Scottish accent thick.

She stuck a hand out to me, but I wasn’t having any of it.

I embraced her, making sure to use a little less force than I had used when I hugged Warren.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” I said, pulling away after a moment.

She looked a little surprised by my overbearing hug, but she was still smiling.

Maybe that’s not how they did things in Scotland. But that was how I did them.

I looked back at my grandfather. Now that he was finally here, it really did feel like Thanksgiving.

Chapter 18

I sat up in bed, looking at the weak moonlight spreading out across the wood floor.

I let out a long, sleep-deprived sigh.

It was about 2:30 a.m., and by all rights, I should have been in a deep, deep sleep. I was tired enough for it, that was for sure. After bringing Warren back home to our house, I’d been in the kitchen until 11 p.m., prepping for tomorrow’s big feast. I’d made the ginger cranberry sauce, peeled and cubed the butternut squash and sweet potatoes, made the bread for the cornbread cashew stuffing, and tried to do as much prep work for the other items on tomorrow’s menu as I could. As far as I could tell, I was on schedule to serve the first appetizer of Thanksgiving dinner at 4 p.m.

I’d been exhausted by the time I crawled into bed. And with an early start time at the shop in the morning, I knew that I would need my sleep.

But here I was, at this dark, dark hour, as awake as if I’d just consumed a whole pot of coffee.

I moved as quietly as I could, trying not to wake Daniel, or Huckleberry, who was snoozing silently at the edge of the bed. Then I pushed my feet into a pair of slippers and quietly shuffled over to the window.

I stared outside. At the crescent moon hanging high in the sky. At the meadow beneath it, bathed in its milky light. A layer of ice and frost glittered all the way to the opposite edge of the woods. I admired the picturesque view, but it didn’t help dispel my troubled thoughts.  

This was me all over. Whenever I had something on my mind that was bugging me, I just couldn’t sleep.

Every night had been like this in the year after my divorce from Evan, my first husband. I’d toss and turn and watch never-ending infomercials about oldies music box sets and high tech blenders and miracle make-up that was supposed to make you look ten years younger.

That restless sleep pattern had lasted for a long, long time.

But then I met Daniel and those nights of sleeplessness became something of the past.

Still, every once and a while when something was really bugging me, I found myself having troub—

I felt pleasant goose bumps break out across my body as he wrapped his arms around me.

“What’s all this about?” he whispered sleepily in my ear, his voice cracking a little with the effort.

He pressed his cheek to mine and looked out the window at the moon, following my gaze.

“Aw, it’s nothing that can’t wait until morning,” I said, placing my arms over his and pecking him on the cheek. “Go back to bed.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late,” he said. “Now I’m awake, looking out this window with you, feeling worried, too.”

I let out a sigh.

“It’s just that… well, I’m thinking about Deb and her kids, and I’m thinking about Tobias and that turkey. And I’m thinking… well, if Tobias
did
steal Jack Daniels, well, maybe he’s waiting until tomorrow to, you know… to eat him. Maybe he’s got him somewhere out there. Maybe Jack Daniels is still alive.”

I knew it was a long shot. I knew it was wishful thinking. And I knew too that this should have been the furthest thing from my mind the night before Thanksgiving.

But I couldn’t help but think… maybe if the turkey was indeed stolen, then maybe there was still a chance, no matter how small it was, for the bird to be saved for the Dulanys.

“I guess that’s possible,” Daniel said.

I looked up at him for a long moment, and then back out the window.

“Well, it seems like a nice night out there, don’t you think?” he said, looking down at me. “Maybe a little cold, but it’s nothing that can’t be handled.”  

I smiled, knowing what he meant.

“I’ll go get dressed,” I said.

Chapter 19

I didn’t make a habit of dragging my husband out of bed at three o’clock in the morning to go on a lost cause expedition.

But I don’t think he minded that much.

We were once again back in his truck, out on the empty streets of Christmas River. The town was deader than a doornail. Not a soul was out at this hour. The streets shone with frost and ice, and there was a stiff wind that made the brittle branches of the trees shake and groan.

I was glad I wasn’t alone out here.

“That Aileen seems real nice,” Daniel said, rubbing his sleep-encrusted eyes.

“I know,” I said. “I think Warren struck gold this time.”

Daniel nodded.

“I don’t know how the old man did it,” he said. “I mean, she seems perfectly intelligent. Doesn’t she? What do you think she sees in that old chatty bas—”

“Daniel Brightman!” I said. “Did I not just warn you earlier regarding talking nonsense about my grandfather? Now you’re going to pay.”

“Easy, easy,” he said, holding up his hands for a brief moment. “I was just checking to make sure you were still awake.”

I crossed my arms, pretending to be angry.

“I’ll have you know that my grandfather is
quite
the catch,” I said. “In fact, I’m sure many a lady would…”

I trailed off, staring out the passenger seat window, noticing a flash of light in the woods that bordered the road.   

“Wait, slow down,” I said, abruptly. “I saw something out there.”

Daniel tapped the brakes and then pulled off to the side of the downtown street.

“This is about where the homeless camp is,” he said.

He put the car in park and then killed the engine. He turned toward me.

“Now, I think you should stay here, Cin,” he said. “We don’t know who’s out in those woods, and it could be dangerous.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“No way,” I said.

“Cinnamon, I really think you should—”

“We’re doing this together, aren’t we?” I said.

“Yes, but—”

“Well, I’ll just worry about you if you leave me here. You shouldn’t go out there alone either.”

He let out a sigh, looking up into the rearview mirror.

After a moment, he looked back at me.

“Fine,” he said. “But you stay right by me, okay? And just follow my lead. These places aren’t pretty.”

I nodded.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s go then.”

We got out of the car, and he grabbed my hand, holding it tightly.

Then we made our way into the frozen woods, following the light of the campfire.

Chapter 20

Two men were huddled around the fire, curled up in thin and worn sleeping bags that couldn’t have provided much warmth against the brutal wind weaving around the trees.

I felt an ache in my heart, seeing them there like that. Much like the same pain I’d felt when I’d seen Tobias sleeping out on the street the other day.

But I tried not to let my emotions get too far away from me. After all, I didn’t know these men. There was probably a reason they were out here and not at home with a family or the love of a good woman.

I tried to stay as rational as I could about the situation as we approached them, though my heart was finding it hard to do.

I stepped on a twig by accident and it made a loud snapping sound. One of the men shot straight up from his sleeping bag, looking in our direction with wide and scared eyes.

“Aw, just hold on now a minute, Sheriff,” the man said in a gravelly voice. “We’re not trying to do no harm. We’re just trying to get a night’s sleep somewhere,
thas
all.”

The man, who appeared to be in his mid-fifties and who had a long grey beard, started getting up, but Daniel waved his arms gently, as if to say ‘It’s all right.’

“I’m not here to bust you,” he said. “I’m just here to see if you fellas have some information.”

A look of relief swept across the homeless man’s face.

“Information you say?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Daniel said. “I was wondering if you know anything about a guy named Tobias? He sometimes sets up outside the drug store downtown. Do you know him?”

“Sure we know Tobias,” the other man in the sleeping bag said, sitting up and propping himself against a log. “The guy never shuts up.”

Daniel turned back, raising an eyebrow at me, as if to say
Now I know why you took a liking to him
.

I guess I had a thing for old guys who liked to talk a lot.

“Either of you seen Tobias lately?” Daniel asked.

“Not since Tuesday,” the one with the beard said. “S.O.B. got lucky and won hisself a bed at the shelter for a few nights. Normally, he’d be out here with us, but I guess we ain’t the lucky ones.”

I looked at Daniel, furrowing my brow.

If Tobias was at the shelter, it seemed unlikely that he would’ve been out on the streets, looking for a turkey to eat.

“Is Tobias the stealing type?” Daniel asked. “I mean, has he done that sort of thing before?”

“No
siree
,” the other man said, shaking his head vigorously. “And I ain’t just saying that either. You see, I know because I was that type once upon a time. If you’re like me, you know one of your own kind when you see ‘em. And Tobias ain’t my kind. He might have thought about it once and while. Hell, we all have. But I’d bet my front teeth that old Tobias wouldn’t follow through with it if it came down to it.”

He smiled. In the light of the campfire, I could see that where his two front teeth should have been was just one big gaping hole.  

He cackled.

“Oops, already made that bet.”

The other man started laughing too. Then the man with the missing teeth started coughing hard.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I like to surprise folks with that one. But I ain’t lying about Tobias. He’s a straight arrow.”

“Just a man with a few screws missing upstairs on account of the war,” the other man chimed in. “But that Tobias ain’t a bad dude.”

Daniel nodded.

He pulled something from his pocket and handed something to both of the men.

“You all get yourselves something nice for dinner later, all right?”

The one with no teeth grinned toothlessly, unfolding the money in his hand and holding it up against the light of the fire.

“Well, you’ve got my vote come next Sheriff’s election,” he said.

The other man just stared down at the bills in his hand with an open mouth, too surprised to say much.

Daniel reached for my hand.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I said to the two men.